I guess I'm bored. No, I'm not bored, I wanted the +1 button and I couldn't add it to my old template.
Oh well... *shrugs*
Saturday, July 23, 2011
Tuesday, July 19, 2011
Packaged People
That's what we are. Packaged products.
We live in large, stacked boxes containing smaller boxes and we call the smaller ones "homes". We occasionally have to deal with leaks and other refuse coming from the neighboring packages. Talk about poor packaging, sometimes more than one products are stored in the same box. And sometimes, often enough, these products are not compatible with each other. Then a reaction occurs, sometimes an explosion. Sometimes older items are packaged together with newer ones. Then sometimes the new ones get tainted with all sorts of noxious emanations if they spend enough time in the same package with the old ones.
Every day we escape our home packages and we go follow our dreams and ideas somewhere else. We temporarily enter different, mobile boxes we call "transportation". These move using certain paths in the huge warehouse we call "city". God forbid you miss your box, or get into the wrong one. In that case, we may be late for what we call "work".
Then we reach our destination, the box called "workplace". The products we share the space with are of the same make as we are. Different lots, most likely, but the same make. At my workplace, we stare at other boxes and push some buttons, trying to communicate with them. We're basically training those little boxes to do things for us. The other products in the workplace are doing the same thing. Most of the time, all you can hear in the "workplace" box is the click-click of the different kinds of buttons. Then there's the lunch break and we eat out packaged lunches.
Only in the evening, when the work is done for the day, we may get to look around as we walk through the warehouse, towards the transportation box station. Some parts of the warehouse are even beautiful. Trees, a lake, some frogs jumping clumsily across the alleys (btw, how the hell did those frogs enter the warehouse?). If we choose the right path, we may even see the ducks and the swans and the peacocks. All of them are just different products, unaware of their condition. The white peacocks and the black swans are my favorite. Brilliant idea, to make them come in different colors, I suppose their inventor must be at least some VP by now.
Then we arrive at the "home" box. I, for one, will immediately open another box, similar to the one in the workplace box, and this box inside my home box will grant me access to some virtual boxes with no material boundaries. I call those "on-line communities". Extreme metal box. MMO box. Geeky box. Twitter box. Google box, I am now putting a story inside a smaller box inside this one. Why am I doing this? I don't know, it just occurred to me that I should store it somewhere and this looked like a good place.
Then I'll make some instant coffee, packaged in a jar. Or some tea, packaged in bags packaged in cardboard boxes. With some water packaged in pipes. And sugar packaged in paper bags and then in another jar. Everything packaged in a cupboard packaged in a kitchenette packaged in a single-room apartment packaged in a box called "block of flats". Stored in a warehouse called "city". Matryoshka style.
Oh, and, before I go to bed and sleep my instant sleep, I need to ask: is there any way to escape from the packaging system?
We live in large, stacked boxes containing smaller boxes and we call the smaller ones "homes". We occasionally have to deal with leaks and other refuse coming from the neighboring packages. Talk about poor packaging, sometimes more than one products are stored in the same box. And sometimes, often enough, these products are not compatible with each other. Then a reaction occurs, sometimes an explosion. Sometimes older items are packaged together with newer ones. Then sometimes the new ones get tainted with all sorts of noxious emanations if they spend enough time in the same package with the old ones.
Every day we escape our home packages and we go follow our dreams and ideas somewhere else. We temporarily enter different, mobile boxes we call "transportation". These move using certain paths in the huge warehouse we call "city". God forbid you miss your box, or get into the wrong one. In that case, we may be late for what we call "work".
Then we reach our destination, the box called "workplace". The products we share the space with are of the same make as we are. Different lots, most likely, but the same make. At my workplace, we stare at other boxes and push some buttons, trying to communicate with them. We're basically training those little boxes to do things for us. The other products in the workplace are doing the same thing. Most of the time, all you can hear in the "workplace" box is the click-click of the different kinds of buttons. Then there's the lunch break and we eat out packaged lunches.
Only in the evening, when the work is done for the day, we may get to look around as we walk through the warehouse, towards the transportation box station. Some parts of the warehouse are even beautiful. Trees, a lake, some frogs jumping clumsily across the alleys (btw, how the hell did those frogs enter the warehouse?). If we choose the right path, we may even see the ducks and the swans and the peacocks. All of them are just different products, unaware of their condition. The white peacocks and the black swans are my favorite. Brilliant idea, to make them come in different colors, I suppose their inventor must be at least some VP by now.
Then we arrive at the "home" box. I, for one, will immediately open another box, similar to the one in the workplace box, and this box inside my home box will grant me access to some virtual boxes with no material boundaries. I call those "on-line communities". Extreme metal box. MMO box. Geeky box. Twitter box. Google box, I am now putting a story inside a smaller box inside this one. Why am I doing this? I don't know, it just occurred to me that I should store it somewhere and this looked like a good place.
Then I'll make some instant coffee, packaged in a jar. Or some tea, packaged in bags packaged in cardboard boxes. With some water packaged in pipes. And sugar packaged in paper bags and then in another jar. Everything packaged in a cupboard packaged in a kitchenette packaged in a single-room apartment packaged in a box called "block of flats". Stored in a warehouse called "city". Matryoshka style.
Oh, and, before I go to bed and sleep my instant sleep, I need to ask: is there any way to escape from the packaging system?
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