PHOTOGRAPHS. Do we need them? To put up a picture on the Internet so that a passer-by will pass it by with the quick click of his mouse, choosing either the “previous” or the “next” buttons. Does he even absorb all that information, that neglected child standing at the backdrop of the photo, the people huddling in the background, chatting about the newly launched car?
He cares only about beauty. He is a voracious voyeur. He spies and salivates over everything the people put out there for him. The nakedness of their bodies and minds, their inimitable actions, that laugh, that smile. The outing at some cafe, the lingering gaze of a boy on a girl, a girl on a girl, a boy on a boy. Outed. We expose everything through the Internet.
He thinks it is his right to see, it is his to consume. If not, who else is the recipient of this scarlet letter? Why do you open your legs if there is nobody there?
So, why should my information be shared on the Internet, my laundry dried out for all to see? Why should I be delivering letters to unknown addresses? Why should I enable their gratification of the visual, the gossip and the cheap? Is not highlighted luxury a profanity?
But Twitter is fine. It is the sending a telegram, doing a Barnes in The Sun Also Rises. I shall tweet to Brett in 140 characters.
No. And so I will be locking down my Facebook account, photo by photo, feature by feature.
Until you see only text.
And text shall you be presented with.
Because things don’t come easy and if there is a want to know, the onus is on you to roll that stone up the hill.