Wednesday, April 4, 2012

Days of War, Nights of Love

What's the point of doing anything if nobody's watching?


We all want to be famous, to be seen, frozen, preserved in the media, because we've come to trust what is seen more than what is actually lived. Somehow we've gotten everything backwards and images seem more real to us than experiences. To know that we really exist, that we really matter, we have to see ghosts of ourselves preserved in photographs, on television shows and videotapes, in the public eye.


And when you go on vacation, what do you see? Scores of tourists with video cameras screwed to their faces, as if they're trying to suck all of the real world into the two-dimensional world of images spending their "time off "seeing the world through a tiny glass lens. Sure, turning everything that you could experience with all five senses into recorded information that you can only observe from a distance, detached, offers you the illusion of having control over your life: you can rewind and replay them, over and over, until everything looks ridiculous. But what kind of life is that?

What's the point of watching anything if nobody's doing?

From Days of War, Nights of Love

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