no-thingness

sitting here in the w-lan enriched enviroment of an urban restaurant with my macbook, find it strangely attractive to regard my consiousness in combination with this hi-tech gadget as two of the most complex phenomena in the known univerese, unable to apprechiate this insight with according enthusiasm, in a similar way one can´t bite the own teeth or touch a fingertip with this very same part of the body. I decide for the moment to contemplate over the local  latte macciato prices, which i could not -as a digital bohemian- afford. At the same time doubting that with souch frame of mind ever to make ANY money, even in my young information age. i will hardly afford that very caffein enriched product , of couse dear reader, for better and more lucrative thinking in my very same closed circuit restausant-me-macbook complex. At the same time enjoying myself with water, toothpicks and a good old bunch of electromagnatic waves… it is difficult: my mind mumbles with partly convincing arguments that this macbook grew out of the human system called thechnology, like i myself grew out of the universe on this peopleing rock in the outer arm of the galaxy we call our home. programming poor, but as a member of the global creative class, i am in the rather interresting position to analyze styles, trends and patterns in the postcapitalistic memeswarm, that one experts call “everyday culture”. Doing so for the sake of it, deeply without finding desperate corporations i can sell my precious coolprey to. The evolutionary consequence of money from my digi-spiritual existence is not a very satisfing idea in this naggingly material situation. Suddenly the idea comes in handy, that from birth on i MUST suffer from extremely bad taste. It also is possible, as the mere result of personal equation, that i am a “postcog”, a person noticing trends and tendencies long after they have happened. This determinism cools my brains like a nice, sweet bowl of haagen-daz. i should have lived in 2012 or so, i would have been with souch conceptions, a fighter for the global avantgarde, pushing the limits, reading gibson and sterling, praising freedom, nets and hive intelligences. the mob allways wins, says the waiter and hands me a pack of free sugar.