Work Occuring While Unemployed

Hey there.  So how about that Super Bowl, huh?  Some pretty great footballin, it was excellent really pretty excellent (if you’re into that sort of thing and if you are, that’s great there’s absolutely nothing wrong with liking or even loving football, and I don’t mean to talk down to you either, not that I think I’m talking down to you, but I just think it’s important that YOU know I fully support your passions be they football foozball or murderball)

Ahem —

I don’t really have anything to write about so I’m going to write about nothing, empty space, the void, the vacuum.  What amazes me and starts me on a weird and unusual line of thinking is this: the expanding virtual space into (onto?) which things can be saved, and how said space seems to be shrinking in real space but growing in virtual space.  Take, for instance, this computer on which I type.  Back in the day I would have been delighted to have, say, 1 gigabyte of hard disk space and now I have a whopping 200 gigs.  And this, dear friends, is just the beginning.  I now know words like terabyte (1000 gigabytes) and soon my lexicon will employ words like petabyte (1000 terabytes) and whatever will come after petabytes.  I’m so baffled by where all this space originates and it’s ever-growing nature. 

I sometimes wake in the middle of the night, sit upright, and imagine myself being pulled down into the dark bottomless void that is cyberspace.  Will the space ever reach it’s limit?  Will it begin contracting instead of expanding like the universe?  (Is the universe still expanding?  Have we hit the shrinking stage yet? We’ll tackle that another day) 

Thinking about the end of space, cyberspace to be more specific, makes me feel like I’m living in  weird reality that doesn’t exist.  Step away from the hard drive.  Get your photos developed.  Buy CDs?  Or even better yet, records?  Stuff?!  STUFF?!?  What’s happening to all of our stuff?  It’s being turned into ones and zeros.  Maybe that’s best, maybe when the space gets flushed we’ll all be without stuff, just like John Lennon wanted.