Sunday, April 17, 2005

Bicycle Mark

I really like this picture of one man and his new computer. I came across it this morning on a blog site I sometimes read. Bicycle Mark describes his site as: “"The exaggerations of a Portuguese-American, radical, activist-journalist, pretend-academic, university employee, podcaster, blog fanatic, living in Amsterdam".” The photo shows him in bed with his brand new PowerMac G4, in love with a new machine. God, I know that feeling. Last January, while visiting LA I bought a Sony Vaio. I have a photo of myself in bed in my hotel room with my Vaio the morning after I bought it. Are we all mad or just evolving into something else?

Friday, April 15, 2005

O Comments

Not one single solitary person has left a comment on my site yet! This is not surprising; my blog is one of a million other blogs out there blogging about in cyberspace like a message in a bottle. Would a message in a bottle stand a better chance of being read? At least for a message in a bottle there is the chance someday of being washed ashore. Cyberspace, like the universe, just keeps expanding no shores in sight. Maybe there is a secret reader out there waiting with baited breath for my next note? After all, I visit many blogs and rarely leave comments. Too lazy, but I also have this feeling that I’m defacing them when I leave a comment. It was the same of course back in the 20th century when I was once a pen and ink letter writer. I used to love getting letters but didn’t look forward at all to sitting down and replying. Should I, dear reader, tell you more interesting and personal things about my life that might provoke you to comment? I could resort to the tricks of the trade to get my blog noticed. But why would I do that? Because we write to be read I suppose. But blogs are different, closely related to private diaries they have that same duality about them. The need to be private and the need to be exposed are two side of the same coin I think.

Tuesday, April 05, 2005

The Pope

The Pope is dead. Hard to think of his life without thinking about the past 26 years, the prime of my life and how his passing in some way signals the passing of those years. Despite the fact that he was never really a friend of me and my kind, I feel sadness at his passing. I also feel in some way that this is the real end of the 20th century and the beginning of the 21st.

Call Center

Saw this photo in the paper today. A call centre somewhere - India? And do you know what? no one looks sad or miserable in it.