Friday, September 07, 2007

Silicon Chips vs. Silicon Tits

Inspired by a true story of sexual harassment way yonder in California but also my current musings on the web 2.0 phenomenon, which are both favorable and unfavorable. Most people barely have the emotional skill sets to have real relationships in meatspace; life online only complicates matters. It's a catch-22: the internet brings people together, but also has the potential to kill intimacy.

I still feel it's a tool, a means to an end, as easily manipulated by the end user as a good white lie and a poker face in conversation. Intuition is difficult to muster without flesh and bone and a voice to gauge. I do spend much time online because of my writing and art, but I also set boundaries in order to harvest what's best for me from that enormous net I've thrown into the sea.

This phenomenon is particularly interesting for my generation because I didn't grow up on web 2.0, but I'm still young enough to be growing up on whatever new webs we are currently weaving (3.0? 4.0? 5.0? I contend this scale would be best utilized for rating orgasms!)

I used to write my high school term papers on a typewriter. (Boy, do I miss the clankity-clank of the keys and ca-ching of the carriage return!) In those days, we lacked a second, ethereal world tied by cables and electrical impulses that creates a simulacrum of ourselves.

Still, most of my dear friends today are people I've met thanks to this blog. But that's just it: we met there and moved on. We no longer live online; the internet is simply our carrier pigeon which, thankfully, helps us share so much of ourselves as an extension -- not a substitute -- of ourselves.

Like I said, catch-22.

Call me old school. Last week at The Abbey, I felt a sudden urge to write and draw. I asked the bartender for paper. He handed me a small notepad and I shook my head: "Oh, no. I'm going to need A LOT." He understood. After looking under a stack of old newspapers, he placed a glorious yellow legal pad before me, which I wrote in feverishly for six full pages. Once satisfied, I thought the words were going to spill out onto the bar, overflowing like the foamy head on my Duvel.

This inspiration would've never occurred on a laptop. Nothing can replace the raw sensuality of writing or drawing with ink on paper.

And most importantly, nothing can replace true human interaction.

Bah. Enough seriousness. Stay tuned for the South Beach version of this cartoon, coming soon to a sexy blog near you!

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9 comments:

Habla Mierda said...

For the past week I've decided not to go out after work and instead sit home and work on a script that has been bouncing around my head for a couple of years now. Only now is it starting to congeal into something coherent.

This past week has been fueled by several vices in the privacy of my own home. I've been using a weird mix of a leather-bound notebook and different pieces of software to get a picture of the story.

I still haven't found what piece of software to use, so everything has become a mess inside of the notebook.

On my laptop it's been a mix of Scrivener and a locally hosted Wiki, but it seems I keep getting caught up in organization rather than writing.

Good thinking on the Abbey though. I've been trying to figure out a bar I can use to write in, but my usual spots aren't really conducive to that; I can't believe the Abbey just slipped my mind like that.

Carrie said...

Nothing like a fabulous notebook. Nothing. I love my laptop, but paper and pen are my first and always loves...and you're right on about cyber relationships...Nothing beats a face to face y un abrazo.

Gus said...

Silicon Chips vs. Silicon Tits = Silicon Twits (as in those who use Twitter to kill intimacy).

Dayngr said...

I disagree. I think there is a great deal of intimacy in relationships online. There isn't much room to fake intelligence in a spur of the moment conversation and there certainly isn’t the distraction of T & A when there is nothing but text between you. Also, what could possibly be more intimate than getting inside someone’s head? Talking to someone one on one, learning about them and connecting with them emotionally, all without the distractions of physical appearance. Isn’t true intimacy based on the mind? What could be more intimate than that?

Verticus S. Erectus said...

I can think of at least one thing.

James Burnett said...

I'm on the fence. I've met a few folks online here in South Florida, who have become friends, or at least friendly acquaintances. Hell, Tere (A Mom, a Blog...) and her husband have been to my house and broken bread w/Mrs. B and me.

On the other hand, I admit there are times I'm fascinated with other cyber friends, but because of the electronic wall up between us I just don't feel inspired to push for an in person meeting.

Very good post. Food for thought.

Ann Nonymous said...

This is a growing problem. It's actually a fucking addiction (heh). Once you connect getting off with removed fantasy, is there any hope for you when the real thing is in your face? Some people just can't handle it, so the handle themselves.

Lane Savant said...

It helps when you are too old and ugly and memories are all you have.

Lincoln Basel said...

Dear Manola,

I notice your cartoons are very messy and sexist. Lots of men slobbering and all. No women looking and acting like horn toads on a summer's night. Perhaps you might want to title your work "Caution: Slippery when wet." It has a double entendre suitable for this kind of humor and affords ample warning to the uninitiated. Then you could draw slurp lines until your heart's content. In fact, slurp lines could be included in all of your cartoons, a trademark running gag if you will.

Or you could just clean up your act and draw less cartoon slurp lines. I think if you follow this bit of advice, you will be able to draw twice as many cartoons in the same amount of time. Or not.

Your Friend, who likes his sex clean and not messy,
Lincoln Basel,
Art Critic for MVB