Arguably the perversity of the Internet is not what it contains. Not in the least. It's how it contains in proximity. Such that an obituary -
and a correct, sad one, at that
- of Gil Scott-Heron, stands centimeters -
although it is not even a marked distance, just an approximation of monitor size and data and how it is to lean
- from a review for a video game -
in which we learn that Punches and kicks are strikes, which take priority over throws. Throws take priority over holds, while holds overpower strike and overall it is given a B, which is to say a neuter, so no one will buy or not buy it more or less because of it, such that it need never have been written in the first place, although It’s a solid package all around, and one that has, for the most part, escaped the troubling sexism that defined earlier entries. There’s no morality at work here
- and just millimeters from an ad that moves unbidden, in which a gorilla holds a shaving device, but it is not meant for him, it is meant for a man, or that thing they imagine to look like one, with a body all smooth and a face half gray and a big leaf covering where the legs meet -
and it is there that you are told to deforest yourself and, in so doing, to reforest the earth, and what does it mean, we bawl like Militina when he says and, and, and what the hell are these pieces we make? if we recognize even in a glancing blow that we exist in a situation in which market research has encouraged Norelco to increase sales by drawing a clear-cut between not just shaving your testicles or purchasing a special electric razor to do that but playing a Flash game featuring a cut-rate Tarzan named Willy, such that you are shaving the foliage around a character who is supposed to stand in for a penis, yet who is himself a full human, such that there is an impossible transference of subtraction from landscape to crotch, between that playing and between them giving $0.25 to plant trees, without specifying where but with specifying only up to $75,000 -
and this, all this, is something over which our eyes flicker at least a dozen times a day.
How can that which we mean by care for one another not be a total abjuration of what is.
And how can that mean more than a morality at work here. For it means too much to be just or only that.