'tis Sunday: an anguish

‘tis Sunday and all is well! Well, more well’ish than well, but what the hell; a little contradiction has never hurt anyone. Or has it?

With Black Sabbath blaring in the background, the sun shining through the north facing windows and the white MS Word screen starring me in the eyes, I type another journal in reverence to my roguish life. A life that, for all its idiosyncrasies, has served me well.

Yet, this morning, I find myself at odds with the whole virtual space thing. Does it serve a purpose or is it solely the domain of the individualised psyche? A psyche that only serves itself rather than promote a willingness to assimilate all that constitutes life. A self-centred psyche that does nothing but exalt the inner person while hiding behind well-to-do civilised rationale.

And as for the myriad of comments that clutter up virtual space, what do they dish up except to give voice to the internal cynic or give vent to pent-up anguish.

But, before I get all miff, breakfast is calling.

Supposing ... There's only one thing worth debating online
Charlie Brooker
Friday June 2, 2006
The Guardian

There's no point debating anything online. You might as well hurl shoes in the air to knock clouds from the sky. The internet's perfect for all manner of things, but productive discussion ain't one of them. It provides scant room for debate and infinite opportunities for fruitless point-scoring: the heady combination of perceived anonymity, gestated responses, random heckling and a notional "live audience" quickly conspire to create a "perfect storm" of perpetual bickering.

Stumble in, take umbrage with someone, trade a few blows, and within about two or three exchanges, the subject itself goes out the window. Suddenly you're simply arguing about arguing. Eventually, one side gets bored, comes to its senses, or dies, and the row fizzles out: just another needless belch in the swirling online guff-storm.
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