I was recently informed that since people can get their information on twitter in one hundred and forty characters or less, people don’t want to read a long harangue about a topic.
I write long harangues.
It must be a strange time to be a student of history or literature or social sciences. You’d have to read. Or perhaps our texts will eventually be turned into shorthand for the short-attentioned, later to be known as the shallow thinkers. We used to call this cliff notes.
MSNBC is on the kitchen television. It’s something called the one minute countdown. There’s a digital clock ticking down the minute in seconds and something smaller than seconds. I didn’t know you could do that! The anchorman is talking as fast as he can. There’s an escaped peacock on a New York window ledge, someone driving a tank over a car parked in a bike lane…. I’m having an anxiety attack to match the ticking flying numbers. Who needs this? I declare this total shit. Do not argue with me. I’m purposefully deaf.
I do not, did not, learn yoga to manage a world of this shit. But I may need to up my game. Oh well, bring it on. I could use another challenge. Living today is not challenging enough, right?