Hey folks above 50! Remember being a teenager and starting
your record collection? Each purchase dreamed of, saved for, deliberated over,
anticipated with eagerness? The browsing at the record store, the moment of purchase,
bringing the treasure home, holding the large object in your hand and gently
setting it down on the turntable? Reading the liner notes and admiring the
artwork? Shelving it next to your other 15 records?
I went through the same process with books and still have a
few of those dog-eared paperbacks with their old paper smell. The books that
burst my world wide open were few— the old classics Catcher in the Rye, Catch
22, Cat’s Cradle, Walden,
Wind in the Willow’s and Whitman’s Leaves of Grass, Tale of Two Cities and Manchild
in a Promised Land. They sat on my growing library shelf with about 20
other companions, each one a door into a larger world.
Things felt more precious way back then, not only because I
was 18 and just starting out, but because there were so many fewer things to
choose from! Each thing had a character— an album with its cover design, a book
with its cover and a special heft and weight—and each had a special meaning
because of all the effort required to acquire. Same process for waiting for a movie to come to town or
scouring the TV Guide for the moment when a favorite would appear.
Fast forward to the virtual world of today, The choices of
what to watch, listen to, read or buy in myriad formats, most with a mere
button push, is staggering. Youtube alone apparently can keep you occupied for
600 years. How do I know this? By walking to the library and going through an
extensive search in the stacks of the back rooms for the hidden volume
containing the sought-after information? No, by an instant button click. And a quick copy and paste:
Total number of
YouTube videos -- over 120,000,000
Number of videos
uploaded per day -- about 200,000
Time required to see
all the videos -- over 600 years
Number of videos watched
daily -- over 200,000,000
Music is no longer the precious
record/cassette/CD carried home and shelved. For most, it’s floating out in
i-Podland. Books read on Kindle all have the same size and weight and smell.
The once-coveted Cassette-tape-compilation of favorite songs given as a gift to
that special someone is now a playlist merged into the ocean of weightless and
colorless information.
Is this bad? Is this good? Would
anyone willingly go back to the labor of searching and waiting? Is the earth
happier without abandoned plastic disc covers from CD’s? Is this even a
discussion worth having?
Don’t ask me. After all, I’m
writing it on this virtual blog. But I suspect that there is at least a small
loss in human health and happiness when everything is instantly available and
stored so abstractly. The amount of sensation available to us humans craving
novelties has increased in massive geometric proportions compared to the
townfolk a mere 150 years ago waiting for the circus to pass through town. And
a sensation inflation brings a corresponding meaning deflation. When amazing
things are available to see on Youtube and we see so many of them, I wonder
whether each decreases slightly in its effect. With 600 years of viewing ahead
of me, I’ll suppose I’ll find out.
(Question: Has this blog has just decreased the value of my
other 474 postings?)
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