out with the old

I am one of those people who likes symbolic fresh starts. Yes, I know that the first day of a new year, a new month, a new week is “just another day,” but they don’t feel like that to me. I want lines of demarcation. (Curiously, my own birthday is a nearly meaningless occasion to me.)

So with that in mind, I’m wondering if I could declare today, the half-year mark, as some kind of fresh start, drawing a line under the madness of the first half not because the madness has eased at all but because I think (I think) I am learning to live with it.

I considered this at midsummer as well. It ought to have been at midsummer; I like the idea of tying it to seasonal cycles more than marks on a calendar, but then my head got subsumed in a whole other cacophony of stress over something or some things–I don’t even remember what–and I lost track. I think I was sleeping very badly, which makes everything worse.

This has not been even remotely the strangest or most difficult or disorienting half-year of my life, but it has certainly been uniquely odd and challenging.

I’m starting to loathe the digital world. I realize the irony of writing those words on a blog, but this, like email, has come to seem practically old-fashioned to me. I effectively shuttered my Twitter account months ago; yesterday, I deactivated my Facebook account, and although that won’t be permanent because I do need it for a few things, it was such a relief.

I find myself almost obsessively drawn to the tactile more and more. I remember my first giddy encounters with Kindle, the ease and excitement of loading books on there that were cheap or even free (out of copyright or as part of a special offer, folks: don’t pirate books) and then the dawning realization that I look at screens all the time for work and I don’t want to look at one for leisure, plus I actually like books as objects, the heft, the look of the font on paper, the act of turning another page. I don’t enjoy reading on a Kindle. I just don’t.

I have been walking a lot and thinking a lot about walking and cycling, of going nearly everywhere under my own steam. Of what it would be like to travel the whole world like that. And about talking to people everywhere I go–actually talking, to people in front of me, not their images, and using our voices instead of words on a screen. To all kinds of different people, not just the ones who think “like me.”

To people who only use their phones as a tool, to text someone or look up a business for something they need, not people who conduct large swathes of their lives and relationships online. The impoverishment of that environment becomes clearer to me the longer we stay away from one another and the digital world reveals itself as only a sometimes-useful supplement and not at all a substitute for actually living.

It feels like social media + worldwide lockdowns are collectively driving everyone mad. Everyone is shouting at everyone else and everyone is furious, even more than usual, like people have overdosed on some kind of rage drug. It’s unbearable.

I feel desperate to be in the world, not this stupid wrong side of the mirror world mediated through Online. I’m sure that I sound like a Luddite, and I’m equally sure that I don’t care.

this is not a placeholder

The management would like to apologize for abandoning you for more than two months with nothing but that creepy hand of glory watching over Edward Woodward for company.  We’re trying to get the bottom of just who is responsible for this long radio silence.  As Sam Raimi would say, The Guilty Must Be Punished, and just as soon as we figure out who that is we plan to get with the punishing.  In the meantime, stick around; there’s more content to come and you won’t have to hang around for months and months to get it this time.