It’s sleeker. It’s swifter. It’s sneakier. It’s more aloofer. And every once in a while, it comes up with something snappy. It’s like a face lift, only without the vanity. It’s an episode of literary Nip and Tuck. Nobody saw it coming, and moreover, nobody saw where it went. It’s an online butterfly; a digital phoenix. And a lot of times its activity is more mythological than a Phoenix. It had to be dusted off and spring cleaned. There were dust bunnies romping together, and once, I swear, I saw an Ent scolding the weeds. They were criminals; they were growing up through the sidewalk cracks. There was vacuuming and sifting and sorting to be done, and a whole thing with a killer rat (gimme a scotch on the rocks and I’ll tell that one sometime). But now it is free, free from the oppression of old structures and strictures. It’s the end of a haiku – your view goes from the concrete image to the whole world, and all in three sentence fragments. All the other caterpillars mocked it, but it didn’t mind then and it doesn’t care now.
I come awake, a wyrm from hibernation, a life through birth, leaving a puddle of birthing html fluids all over the midwife. I blink around myself bleary-eyed, like a camera with a smeared lens. Find myself in a strange world, a brave new world which is braver and in point of fact newer and braver than Huxley could have imagined. This world has a digital sheen, a world of glossed pages, lights and suffused with graphics and animation. Life as blockbuster film. It is a world of enlightenment and endarkenment, equally mixed and with a splash of lemon on the side. You know, for zest. Is it a world of substance or of mere lonely soulism, as unfilling as cotton candy? I suppose it depends on how you use it.
Cognition is now. I blog, therefore I am.