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Ah, cell-phones: I know it dates me and sounds crotchety but oh how I miss the old days when talking to yourself in public meant you were crazy, probably schizophrenic, maybe dangerous or possibly a saint or mystic with a direct line to god. Now it's just a helicopter mom calling her daughter away at college for the third time today to reassure herself the girl can't exist without the eternally present sound of her voice giving advice the kid probably won't follow anyway. Joan of Arc was burned at the stake for listening to the disembodied voices that assault us wherever we go, every day. Doesn't Seem fair. I wonder who has that stake? ~mce
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Oct 16, 2015
Oct 16, 2015 at 3:29 PM UTC
Give Me Meaning Or Give Me Silence
Ah, cell-phones: I know it dates me and sounds crotchety but oh how I miss the old days when talking to yourself in public meant you were crazy, probably schizophrenic, maybe dangerous or possibly a saint or mystic with a direct line to god. Now it's just a helicopter mom calling her daughter away at college for the third time today to reassure herself the girl can't exist without the eternally present sound of her voice giving advice the kid probably won't follow anyway. Joan of Arc was burned at the stake for listening to the disembodied voices that assault us wherever we go, every day. Doesn't Seem fair. I wonder who has that stake? ~mce
mike-essig
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Oct 16, 2015
Oct 16, 2015 at 3:29 PM UTC
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