We Will Always Have Facebook
Oh, that good old diversion, the FaceBook post thread.
How marvelous is the virtual Salon? It’s populated with so many clever people; people who have such gossamer humor, who exude the warm energy of contradictions; their pugnacity oozing with charm — in a wild and wooly place where they fraternize with rugged individuals who peck away longingly at their devices with wild intent and glimmers of hope. “Hope”, that mystery they can never expectorate, even with flabbergasting electronic tools, astoundingly mastered and controlled by habit of marvelous intoxication by brain chemicals.
The body-mind used to map itself out into the world, ever expanding and deepening until the minecraft co-opted its space. How does this new world smell? Perhaps like hot, almost melting polymers? The new world’s pull is more attractive than sweat, laughter, spit, slaps on the body, fine moist things and pains and pleasures. The new world is free of delusions of love, yet still, in so many ways, polluted by hyper-social feelings of needing to fit in.
The new world would be beaten to death if it could be beaten to death.
Is it arousing to know that the Universe is a SIM or is the observation that you are not God made intolerably exasperating because of the jealousy caused by the sudden and glaring awareness that your petty programs are merely derivative of something inside someone else’s game?
With so many marvelous things to contemplate, why would anyone miss the banter at La Closerie Des Lilas; Les Deux Magots; Brasserie Lipp; Cafe de Flore; Le Select; Le Come; The Ritz Paris; Harry’s Bar; CASA BOTÍN; Cerveceria Alemana; CAFÉ IRUÑA; La Bodeguita Del Medio; La Floridita or Sloppy Joe’s?
Nostalgia and face-to-face camaraderie is a quick path to a pulled trigger — far better to be alone with the world; far better to be a sequence of code in someone else’s SIM; far better to be stuck with the delusion that you are a player.
But please, don’t feel bad, we will always have FaceBook.
