(no subject)
I promised, some time ago, that the next thing I wrote would be an explanation of some things I'd said in the past.
It seems I lied. Deploy your crack legal team, if you will.
I sat, atop some plateau, and thought. I thought long and hard.
Comparing myself to the Shadowman had a point, a point I failed to articulate. He and I do the same thing - we direct powers far greater than we should, things the average man does not believe in. Of course a bokor can't really point at you and make you die. Of course a hacker can't destroy my life. Of course there's no magical snake coiling through eternity, sticky with the dead. Of course the internet isn't a living mirror of earth. Of course there's no Shadowman, no rictus-grinning psychopomp, waiting for me to die. Of course there's no Forkbomber, no sardonic reaper of information, waiting for me to log out.
Of course.
What else do we have in common? We look like we do it because we want to. We do it because we must. Now, we differ in origins, in some ways. Mike got into his business by a string of his own mistakes and greed, and believing there were prices he could get away with dodging, and now he does what he does because he is bound to it. I got into what I do because I sought truths, and as they wriggled in my grasp, I dug deeper and, as I wormed my hands into the fertile soil of knowledge, the roots of fact wormed their way into my hands, up the veins, and now I am riddled with fibre-optic and copper, my nerves operating alongside, impulses racing against the flow of information in and out.
I am, if you wish to put it in such ugly terms, bound to do what I do. My life shaped me. My experiences formed this man we call Bjorn. Maybe I'd react differently somewhere along the line, fail to take some key decision, move along another branch. Perhaps I'd have no path at all, sleeping alongside so many other predators, unaware of our combined teeth.
But I didn't. At the end of one day and the beginning of another, somewhere along the dateline, experiences shaped behaviour, and learning provoked reaction, and the forkbomber emerged from a coccoon called Bjorn, and now we cohabit, my nerves and his signals; curious dichotomy, really - wired is secure, wired is fast, wired is direct, but wireless is the signal they cannot stop. Can't.
So, here I am. Shadowman? Perhaps not. I draw parallels, but similarities do not make us twins.
Whatever connects, or does not connect us, we both do things. We're active, in our ways.
I've missed the opportunity to discuss that thing again. I'll do that some other time. Soon.
It seems I lied. Deploy your crack legal team, if you will.
I sat, atop some plateau, and thought. I thought long and hard.
Comparing myself to the Shadowman had a point, a point I failed to articulate. He and I do the same thing - we direct powers far greater than we should, things the average man does not believe in. Of course a bokor can't really point at you and make you die. Of course a hacker can't destroy my life. Of course there's no magical snake coiling through eternity, sticky with the dead. Of course the internet isn't a living mirror of earth. Of course there's no Shadowman, no rictus-grinning psychopomp, waiting for me to die. Of course there's no Forkbomber, no sardonic reaper of information, waiting for me to log out.
Of course.
What else do we have in common? We look like we do it because we want to. We do it because we must. Now, we differ in origins, in some ways. Mike got into his business by a string of his own mistakes and greed, and believing there were prices he could get away with dodging, and now he does what he does because he is bound to it. I got into what I do because I sought truths, and as they wriggled in my grasp, I dug deeper and, as I wormed my hands into the fertile soil of knowledge, the roots of fact wormed their way into my hands, up the veins, and now I am riddled with fibre-optic and copper, my nerves operating alongside, impulses racing against the flow of information in and out.
I am, if you wish to put it in such ugly terms, bound to do what I do. My life shaped me. My experiences formed this man we call Bjorn. Maybe I'd react differently somewhere along the line, fail to take some key decision, move along another branch. Perhaps I'd have no path at all, sleeping alongside so many other predators, unaware of our combined teeth.
But I didn't. At the end of one day and the beginning of another, somewhere along the dateline, experiences shaped behaviour, and learning provoked reaction, and the forkbomber emerged from a coccoon called Bjorn, and now we cohabit, my nerves and his signals; curious dichotomy, really - wired is secure, wired is fast, wired is direct, but wireless is the signal they cannot stop. Can't.
So, here I am. Shadowman? Perhaps not. I draw parallels, but similarities do not make us twins.
Whatever connects, or does not connect us, we both do things. We're active, in our ways.
I've missed the opportunity to discuss that thing again. I'll do that some other time. Soon.