Rasma Says

Musings, deliberations, flashes of unaccounted for brilliance…

A few words about nothing that prove something, or not


Eeek, as soon as I set about blogging after a haitus of what, at least 6 months? I get a pop-up that says something like “Now you can call out people on your page with google+ and attract their attention” … whatever the bloody heck that means.

It immediately makes me nervous. It’s like, I know how to write, or at least type, but I don’t know how to communicate with a world that will only notice me if I pull the right plugs or strings or springs or something identified by an icon I can only guess what means.

Is this how one admits to ageing, becoming out of it, losing touch? I asked my students today if they thought of themselves as cogs in a machine. They blithely said Yes, and thus proved Rousseau right: if society, by assigning man work, alienates man from his true holistic connection to nature; then what may follow is that man is so altered as to not, in the end, feel alienated. (This from the “Imagine a village where everyone is getting by, not rich but getting by, grazing their animals on the green and tithing to the church. One day an Enlightened Reformer comes by and says, ‘I will buy your land and animals, start a farm and hire you at good wages, provide doctors and schools…. all you have to do is work for me, on my farm.’ Is this progress?” Rousseau said no, it was alienation of man from his environment. The workers were now mere cogs in a machinery. They had lost their freedom.)

One bright student suggested that the farmers, in their turn, had been mere cogs in another sort of machinery. True?

The point being, because this does connect back to Google+/-, that an Enlightened Reformer has come by, collected all the pencils and said, I’ll give you your own boxes and profiles and thumbs up and down buttons that will give you enormous pleasure to click on… all you have to do is write for me. And when you write for me you write to get the most views, attract the most attention, not by the possible (albeit not probable) brilliance of your content, but by the far-reaching effect of your network. So go forth and connect, like and dislike, link and re-link, and your writing will… be seen.

Here in my little corner, I must take the Romantics’ recourse and shout a loud and resounding… I shan’t be part of it. I can’t more than I won’t. I don’t get it, don’t belong, me no comprendo. Me no take time to figgerout.

So, whatever I was supposed to do to get someone to read this… well, I haven’t a clue what that is. Years ago someone asked me why I had no comment field on my blog. So I put one in. It remains in pristine condition. This is an old story. Nothing new. I have blogged about it before, and may again. But hey, it’s just so much fun typing and typing, fingers flying, that satisfying taptaptapclick of the keys… writing and writing, even though I have nothing really to say. But I feel free to say it! To say nothing that will attract anybody: that is freedom anno 2013. No cog in the net-works of the world, I belong to a distant past, when my pen collection was precious and important and had something to do with writing.

No longer, but that too is progress. Type type type type type. I am because I type.

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This entry was posted on 12/02/2013 by in Uncategorized and tagged .

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