I have become a consumer.
I used to witness events. Now I witness events, hear about them on the news, hear the talking heads' opinions of the news of the events, look up reactions to the talking heads' opinions of the news of the events, read comments about the reactions to the opinions of the news of the event, and end up forgetting that the event ever happened. It's almost like the event is of secondary importance now. The world spins, people live and die, solely to assuage the mass of rabid information consumers. I am the worst of them all.
I used to live in a place where the things that happened to me were what I knew. Personal experiences shaped my life and I wrote about them with, in retrospect, naivete. But now my brain is shoved full of not only information, but reactions to the information, and reactions to those reactions. Turn on CNN right now. I can tell you what Democrats will say about whatever story is happening. I can tell you what Republicans will say, what old people, young people, southern people, northern people will say. I have become an expert in the study of unwarranted opinions.
My writing has reflected this, and I'm afraid it's not for the better. The naivete of before led to what I think was a more crisp way of articulation. Or at least a more interesting way. Now I feel like all of the words are being shoved together, brick by painstaking brick, rubbed with mortar and placed on top of each other to make some shoddy hut. They used to flow, a feeling I miss more than anything. I feel like I used to want to do something. Then I wanted to observe something. Now I observe the observations, consuming everything that comes my way in a desperate attempt to be seen as knowledgable.
It's almost impossible for me to watch a movie anymore. I try. I get thirty minutes in and think I have an idea about how the movie will be. My laptop and smartphone sit next to me, begging me to look inside their respective pandora's boxes. I slog my way through another ten minutes before whipping my laptop open, looking at the tomatometer percentage, read all of my favorite critics' reviews, look at the message boards on imdb to see what normal people have to say about it. And by the time the orgy of information overload is finished, and I shamefully shut my laptop and press play again, I've lost interest. The movie is no longer important. I got what I came for, and I get this funny feeling that I've accomplished something.
I haven't accomplished a thing, though, and what I came for, I'm afraid, is validation. I no longer can have a wrong opinion. My opinions are thoroughly researched, damn near every one of them. How can that be a bad thing? I'm beginning to think that it is. Am I well-read about what I talk about? Definitely. But it's not the same type of "well-read" that existed 20 years ago. I don't know only the facts. I know the opinions. And it's led me to become sure of my views. That's not a good thing. I remember when I wasn't sure of anything. And I think I liked that a whole lot better....
"The best lack all conviction, while the worst are full of passionate intensity." --Yeats
