A prisoner often has only a small, albeit barred, window to view the outside world. Or, the prisoner may stand outside near an electrified fence and observe the outside world on the other side. Both the latter and former are simply portals. The prisoner must still rely on imagination to taste freedom.
Yesterday, I referenced the prison created by the "ownership society." We are all incarcerated to some degree. That explains the obsessive reliance on technology (e.g., computers, "smartphones," tube) to provide portals to an imagined freedom. The actual world around us is a structural prison. Hence, we can no longer escape. There is no real freedom. We can only escape through the virtual venues of entertainment to achieve a virtual freedom. The irony, of course, is that there is always a price of admission for those particular venues.
The Net has also been a major purveyor of virtual freedom. Little wonder why the "smartphone" has become a literal umbilical cord. We're talking about a perpetual connection to the Net. Hour after hour, day and night. I've been caught up in its web, too. Now, I have been gradually weaning myself off of the Net.
Honestly, though, what will I do when I approach complete separation from the Net? What alternatives are there? I have already mummified all other forms of virtual freedom. There will be nothing left but to stare at the blank walls of my prison cell, my squalid room at Slob Manor (read: rental housing), or elsewhere.
Typical Dangerous Hottie
No evening outing last night. I was too fatigued because of the earlier laborious loitering at the den of consumerism (read: shopping mall) in Kahala. Instead, I was continuously on the Net from 2:30pm on deep into the night.
I really did not have much choice. The gooks at the Chinaman house next door were having a party in their parking area about a stone's throw from the window of my squalid room. The party was already in session when I returned in the afternoon. Shitty rap music was blaring from a cheap stereo in one of the vehicles. Other vehicles were constantly coming and going. All the while, the drunkard gooks were screaming and hollering at the top of their lungs. I attempted to go to sleep at 10:30pm, but the party shifted into overdrive right at that moment. The music and screaming grew even louder ... 11:30pm ... midnight ... 12:30am ... 1am ... 1:30am ... 2am ... 2:30am ... over twelve fucking hours and still going ... 3am in the fucking morning, finally the dickheads put an end to their stupidity.
Well, at least I made some progress at diminishing my minimal Net presence even more. I deleted my Google+ account and profile. Extreme elation overcame me during the process. I spent the rest of the time on another project to be unveiled later.
A fatiguing day at best. I returned to Slob Manor at 2:30pm, much earlier than usual. I was hoping to take a short nap, but the sun was shining directly in my squalid room unto my squalid bed. Can you believe it? There's really just no end to the stupidity that I must endure.