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February 3, 2010

I came home from work today and this photo had been downloaded to my desktop. FML.

The more I study media, the more I can’t seem to think about anything else. To think that these things I consume daily might actually say something about me or my friends or society as a whole and to realize I am living proof of a historic cultural strand is starting to make my mind melt. Hearing minstrel songs and early blues embedded in Grammy-winning tracks is like looking up at the stars and acknowledging how small and meaningless our existence is in the context of the universe. My brain is hurting from all the thinking, but my hands can’t seem to find the time to write it all out. There’s a lot of critical-sounding crap I have bottled up (iPad, Jersey Shore, Little Big Planet, the meaning of Fyfe Dangerfield, etc), but it all just swirls around with each other, avoiding lengthy coherent thoughts. I’m afraid of making a living at this. I’m afraid of turning into Twitter.

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