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I Hate Information!

Google wanted to see if it could calculate with advanced algorithms how many books there were to catalog. It started with a basic billion but Mr. Google (I like to call him that) whittled it down to 129,864,880. 130 million books is a lot of books. I’m not sure if a human being can even count to 130 million in a lifetime if they did nothing else. No, I’m sure they can’t. I tried to figure out how many movies have been made but it’s much harder to come up with an accurate figure on movies since Mr. Google is no help. I’m going to say at least 10 million. People might say that figure is high but try to understand that Bollywood alone puts out at least 1000 a year. Every country has a movie industry and every kid with a camera is putting out a movie now. And let’s not even talk about porn. (If we start talking about porn, we’ll never stop.) There is so much information now that standard sources of information are being choked out. The Ladies Home Journal was in business for 139 years and still has a high circulation but nobody is buying ads in magazines anymore. So bye bye. The list of magazines that have closed in the last few years is gigantic. Gourmet and Newsweek are two examples. Network television is still around but an endless array of new cable stations are getting increasingly muscular. Do you want me to list all the cable channels? No, I know you don’t. But the real giant, the monster that swallows everything in it’s wake is Al Gore’s little baby (sic), The Internet. It is likely to destroy the business model of everything we have always held dear. Tree huggers will be happy because paper reading materials will disappear. Fahrenheit 451 won’t be necessary because there won’t be any books to burn in the future. Vinyl records and acetate films are collectable items soon to be viewed as something cavemen used. The one thing that is growing like a virus are blogs. Dear God, blogs! It is like the great collected unconscious and unrestricted Id is spit at us everyday. It is like everyday having gallons of spit dumped on you. Once upon a time in a time long long ago there was one book. They had to invent a press just so people could read that one book. That was the one book that people tried to read. To be fair, I’m talking about Europe about the time of the Gutenberg press was invented. But you get the point. There wasn’t a lot to read back then. Or watch or listen to. How did we survive? We didn’t have video games. That seems to take up a lot of people’s time now a days. We didn’t have 24 hour sports channels. There are all sorts of sports we didn’t know existed but now we do. The simple fact is the human brain is puny. We always hear how hard it is to duplicate but we can’t assimilate information the way a computer can. Computers can completely process the collected information of mankind from the beginning of time to now. We can’t. Human beings are outmoded. We are obsolete. We are eventually going to be kicked to the curb and ground into the grease for gears. But that’s not important right now. Right now we have to deal with how to schedule a day. It has to be a nightmare if you have kids because they take up some of your preferences. But a lot of parenting is done by putting kids in front of a computer or a TV or a computer and a TV and then leave to sit in front of your own computer and TV. I think it is becoming harder and harder to imagine what life was before the personal computer as it is to imagine what life was like before the Gutenberg press. You get what I’m saying. There is too much information and I hate it. I feel guilty if I don’t know every bit of information flowing out of the great computer mind that is the internet. I feel inadequate and worthless. I am not just a endless collection of ones and zeros. I want to enjoy my information. But there is too much. I feel the weight of there being too much I will never know. Maybe I’ll sit back and read one, and just one, of those 130,000,000 books or 10,000,000 movies. I might even listen a collection of songs that I consider favorites and have maybe listened to a million times. No, I’m lying. I can’t listen to something a million times. Only a computer can do that. But I doubt it enjoys it.