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Implied Consent
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Ideas & Questions
- Hits: 1078
It's everywhere and it's become a little too overwhelming.
If you think about it, philosophically, your entire lie is implied consent - you were born without your permission, you work without it, live, die with out it, it's merely taken for granted. Too much of life happens "TO" you, without any consultation, and at no point in the process are you sufficiently informed to to make even the simplest of decisions.
Nobody is, despite what they tell you, and when you consent to anything you're generally setting yourself up for a whole slew of unintended and unimagined consequences which may well haunt you until the end of your days.
But this isn't about that.
I'm speaking of Advertising, which has become ubiquitous online - and given how much of our lives is conducted online now it's become too much.
In websites, often so cluttered that you can't see the very article you came for, that then try and sell you adblockers for the very ads they're throwing at you - YouTube, I mean you. I mean, fucking hell, I have to watch an ad now just to watch an ad or product endorsement.
Product endorsements are another ones - clickbait articles that lead you to paid advertisements masking as news articles, "New discovery", the abundant products embedded in reviews, movies, books even (American Psycho), the list doesn't end.
The news itself - nothing but product endorsements, those flashes on rising crime, civil unrest, violence, they're all selling you on anti-depressants, security systems, guns, when was the last time you saw a news story about a company that paid for advertising? You don't. You pay for advertising and all the news is good. Pay for the news and you still get the ads, now only they're embedded in the journalism, not in the margins.
Every website rapes you with them - how many don't? Not many, for sure. And they're loaded in before the content - waiting on your article? Sorry, wait for the ads which we have to determine by your browsing history, user profile, internet searches, predicted age, sex, hobbies...
They've made it a condition of accessing the internet - it's become the new social contract, you're on occasion reminded by the insidious "Accept cookies" that pops up from time to time, the terms and conditions of which no one in the world has time to read.
And what's really starting to piss me off is how my email has been hijacked by it. "Promotions" tab for things I have no interest in, have never searched, I used to think it was that Rod Boyle Bastard in Australia signing me up for all sorts of random shit (Actually, I'm sure he's a pretty solid guy. With a name like that...), but of late I'm just convinced that it's google trying to monetize the fuck out of me, sure, I could get a new email address, but I've had this for years, and there's the "Sunk-Costs" fallacy, that I've invested in this email, who has time to change it, my letterhead and stationary, notify relatives, businesses? And they know this, that's why they start this shit with you.
I've come up with a theory that I should perhaps just start over online. Ditch all my emails. Only surf the net in full privacy mode. Physically write out the music videos I like and scrub my online presence. Maybe.
Nomadland
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Film
- Hits: 1000
Directed by Chloé Zhao, starring Frances McDormand, I found this poignant, affecting - more than I might have guessed, in no small part because my life is in too many ways running tangent.
This is not a bad thing, entirely, merely the looking at it from the outside in is not always so comfortable. And the characters, eminently plausible, it could - for the most part - be a documentary, Frances McDormand being the actress, everyone else playing themselves.
Excellent, but not happy, merely thoughtful, reflective, somehow generalizing from the problems of the individual to the problems with society.
The Sinking of the Titanic
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Dreams
- Hits: 2094
I was flying to the site of the sinking of the Titanic. I asked them if they knew where it was, but they didn't, and so I volunteered to go down and search for it with them.
The ocean, cold, big waves, dark, it's night, and sliding beneath the waves...
They must have a pretty good idea of where it should be, because were in an inlet, little harbour, and shortly beneath the waves there is a layer of ice, and we can see where the ship slid in, beneath the ice, and skidded along the bottom, coming up to break the ice (still under the sea) on the other side...
The ice, it's a flat layer, it's why they couldn't find it....
And now I'm on the ship, bright, cold, fluorescent lights, there's still atmosphere down here, it's like an abandoned - ? - place, there are beds, rusting, rotting under cold fluorescence, and there are people here I know, that must be why I came...Don, the old alcoholic chef from the restaurant, and another kitchen staff member, Dave, and maybe there are more, the paint, white and peeling to rust, too-bright fluorescent lights, and I'm here to rescue them, perhaps....
***
That's it. My dreams have been shit lately, lacking purpose, plot, meaning, merely discomforting, unquiet, restless. At first I put it down to my excessive drinking - but, cut back on that, and the dreams remained the same. Short and fragmentary. Sometimes several in a night, none memorable. And I tried Pot, a little hesitant to swap one vice for another, - and a few nights of that - the pre-shows were great, but I'd never find the energy to write all the images down, and ... well, no dreams remembered. And the dreams the same, cryptic (they were always, but I could decipher, now they are more so...), and so this is the best I can remember and it isn't much, still dreaming, but they've lost a lot....
Apocalypto - Mel Gibson
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- Written by: Rod Boyle
- Category: Film
- Hits: 937
This - despite the version I downloaded having out of sync/poorly written subtitles - was excellent. Arguably, while working subtitles would have enhanced the experience, it's perfectly understandable as is. Five Stars. And kudos to Mel for his attention to historical accuracy and detail.
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