And now, a few words from Irish poet Kevin Barrington on this rowdy, infant medium of ours.
Full text after the jump.
I Love The Internet
By Kevin Barrington
Opium to DeQuincy
Sin to Milton
Congo to Conrad
Aran to Synge
I love the internet
Castles to Shakespeare
Deceit to LeCarre
Dublin to Joyce
Marketplace to Chaucer
Did we say
‘Daffodils to Wordsworth?’
We couldn’t forget that.
Or mounted jihad to Tennyson
Or the weird wild wonder
of the whole g** damn show
to Dylan
I love the internet
Wild, lewd, bawdy, bullying, smelling of cats.
Cranks, crank, meth, conspiracy, snipers, knoll.
Fascists made cartoon on ripe digital soil.
Erudite waltzing with trite.
In eternal ballroom
Dedicated skiers on seas of trivial loon.
Self help soma screaming thinnin tv hair repair.
And always the smiles of the filippino brides
And promises of untold nigerian riches.
Flashing wheel spinning ace poker squared
You Have Been Chosen
But
Shhhhhhh
Somewhere down there in the fly fishing section
the first faint whispers
(If ears are right)
of hushed talk
of
bold revolution.
I love the internet
The sheer
dull
scintillating
infantile
anarchy
of
it
all.
Boisterous Brughel medieval market.
Futuristic Middle Ages
Directed
by
Friar Tuck.
And offset, whispers
of
Robin
lurking
in
wood.
I love the internet.
Cos it’s ours.





My cat smells good. He smells warm, like a freshly baked muffin or a cozy comforter.
My cat smells good too. Yeah - cozy comforter. Maybe not freshly baked muffin...more like Hills Prescription g/d cat food. =^..^=
When did you take Jack out of the oven. LOL
We need the Poets works: Braille for the Sighted
The Internet warns us not to pay attention to old stuff but only to new stuff. Yes that explains the slow takeover of the medium for advertisement. Even as we reminisce nostalgically of the mother and child naivety scene promising smiles and hope of distant communication to new friends, we somehow forget the existing metaphors.
So as history repeats, it reminds us now and then, of what we have forgotten, and we have an abundance of excuses be unaware of the past.
The Internet some few decade old has the all the exponential growth that the proprietors of newness love to invest for short term profits. Only a few know that (hyper-text) markup languages have history dating to the late 1960's (IBM-SGML) long preceding the wide spread use of graphic displays. This was slow start, depending on technology of the single page graphic displays, the slow spread of personal computers, and on, through the flat screens and critical mass software development. From the technical side slowness is more indicative of the huge investment required. The financial side of the Internet story is every bit as important and telling as is any idea dreamed up in ten seconds by futurists and science fiction writers. The development of financial resources in the same period has changed more than the hardware technology, and implacable software development methods.
Now the results come in, slowly, and we finally remember why we need poets.
Every new invention of mankind always seems God sent, but not without so much as a good night's sleep, that invention is always weaponized.
Burning embers of the first fire used to terrorize, the club to solve augments, religions to confuse languages, bronze for swords, iron for spears, print for broadsheets, chemistry for gun power, oil for war ships, mass production for war machines and finally the Internet for the commentariat.
It was cute enough to have hamster dance to Rodger Williams tunes, shown as novel newness by adults acting as child not having outlived.
The danger was immediately known (history you should know), but we have to wait, to hope that development would have been better, but again to wait, to hope that broader exposure to intelligence that it could help, and again to wait for the consumer market place to reward the best and brightest could offer when financed "to the fairly well", but mostly find ways to convert the medium to the advertising messages.
The advertisers' messages have all the labor of poets, but it is devoted to the new, novel, attractive and as free of serious consideration as humanly possible. It is forged irony that the advertiser low message is the highest order to the consumer economy. We are swathed in the best possible mediocrity ever devised by the dedicated dollars of immediate returns.
That being said (and not understood) it easy to predict that will it take fifty years before a poets words are used to educate a generation or two of the unborn to understand that the barrage of negativity from the commentariat is contrary to the educational prerogatives that will be needed to reconnect humanity to its history to remediate for the absence of both sense and the natural power of human native powers of observation.
We see a generation walking with uncertain steps in an unknown direction, with the habit of addiction to a small screen, using thumbs, not listening, seeing or feeling that life of the Earth that passes near.
The Internet is the graffiti placed in privacy by the anonymous to distract those that cannot achieve a meaningful destiny.
Men with opinions. They are a terrifying thing.
swing states benefit so greatly from the attention and advertising dollars, that no politician from these states would advocate eliminating it. However, if the state republicans are willing to sohbet sacrifice the attention and money that comes from these contests, then they can not logically oppose shifting to a popular vote, at least not on those