By the horns...
Got me seeing red...
Something is wrong when advances are made on our collective vanities, and against our better judgements we take the bait and bite the bullet or take the bull by the horns in which case turning left or right won't save us from being skewered by the other.
LEFT HORN = NO online presence: we turn left and are left out of touch, out of sync with an ever-changing world in which copious contacts are made or maintained over electronic networks, and new friends and possibilities remain yet undiscovered in intangible, inaccessible, digital domains.
RIGHT HORN = Online presence: we turn right and are caught right between limitless possibilities of freely exchanging ideas, and of ubiquitous, obsequious capitalism. Through our profiles and our weblogs we share our closest feelings, our interests and preferences, our penchants and desires with our families and friends and with the public at large. Together we get birds of a feather to flock while handing over invaluable info about our favourite activities and vacation spots and websites and stars and shows and movies and books and foods and sexual toys - we hand it all over to the ones who profit most by running the whole show, by controlling the code, by steering the bull, in fact by riding the whole damned herd of bulls across a plain
that will eventually be left barren by our willingness to be led by our vanity. Or is it fed? ... Bred?
Aw, whatever; I'm just a pain in the fucking arse.
Something is wrong when advances are made on our collective vanities, and against our better judgements we take the bait and bite the bullet or take the bull by the horns in which case turning left or right won't save us from being skewered by the other.
LEFT HORN = NO online presence: we turn left and are left out of touch, out of sync with an ever-changing world in which copious contacts are made or maintained over electronic networks, and new friends and possibilities remain yet undiscovered in intangible, inaccessible, digital domains.
RIGHT HORN = Online presence: we turn right and are caught right between limitless possibilities of freely exchanging ideas, and of ubiquitous, obsequious capitalism. Through our profiles and our weblogs we share our closest feelings, our interests and preferences, our penchants and desires with our families and friends and with the public at large. Together we get birds of a feather to flock while handing over invaluable info about our favourite activities and vacation spots and websites and stars and shows and movies and books and foods and sexual toys - we hand it all over to the ones who profit most by running the whole show, by controlling the code, by steering the bull, in fact by riding the whole damned herd of bulls across a plain
that will eventually be left barren by our willingness to be led by our vanity. Or is it fed? ... Bred?Aw, whatever; I'm just a pain in the fucking arse.
