If I tell people I went offline for a month, it’s like telling them I set up camp on Mars. It hints of apostasy, paganism. Tribes seem to find pleasure in knowing all members suffer equally. But, really, is the situation so dire that we can’t wrangle a little more control? We’ve opted into this baffling baseline of infinite information suck, always-availability. Nobody held a gun to our head. We put our own mouths on the spigot every single day.
Kategorie: Allgemein
Disconnecttention.
Let's all be gardeners forever.
It's already that time of the year again. Yes, really.
Höhe.
Yesterday I increased the height of the seat. A new bar gave me an extra ten centimeters, and room to stretch my legs. The bicycle man and I were in total agreement, barring a slight difference in the way we expressed it: "The bike's too low," I said. "Legs of gaijin (foreigner, actually, outside-person) too long," said he.
Johan Galtung: Johan Lackland (Autobiography)
Forest Freedom.
[...] and when you've spent too much time quietly thinking you'll need to go chop wood, or haul water, or jump in the river to cool off, depending on the season.
Real Digital Scheißegal.
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Kein Ziel keine Meinung kein Bock