Closing off that exit

And now we have cable. Well, we have a wire that comes into the apartment that brings in something like 20 basic channels, in case we really need to see some late-breaking news. People are amazed that I've never had HBO or any of that stuff. Never had time for it. I don't watch televsion...at all. We rent a movie from time to time, but I'm woefully deficient in poplular culture.

Here's one for you: I've never seen The Sopranos.

But come Saturday we had the Internet and I'm not so sure I'm happy about it. I mean, right now I should have my pitiful butt in bed, resting, but here I am blogging and IMing and emailing people at work and actually feeling guilty that I am so sick (trust me, you don't want to hear the noise that warrants a cough coming out of me right now) that I'm not in the office.

I mean, the Internet is no differnt than any other scene, and it keeps us conencted, but at what cost? Sometimes, like now, I need some real downtime. I need to be unconnected. But there's something in us that impels us to be connected. That' s why I like remote places. Mountaintops. Deserts. Out on the ocean. I love that instant when the jet's wheels leave the runway. Oh well, if I left the iron on, ther'es nothing I can do about it now. Because society and technology, whether we like it or not, has a grip on us. Even us who try to check out and fight it as much as we can. In the end, you can't fight it. You can only remove yourself by degrees, that's all.

You can never move far enough away. You can't run from your problems. And there are very few places on the planet, thanks to satallites, that you can't stay connected. Men would join the French Foreign Legion to forget, because the FFL would take them to the most remote, God-forsaken spots on earth. The microchip sealed that deal.