I've got thirteen channels of shit on the T.V. to choose from.
I've got electric light.
And I've got second sight.
I've got amazing powers of observation.
And that is how I know
When I try to get through
On the telephone to you
There will be nobody home.
Information is dead
It's long since dead to be honest.
We did believe it's something substantial, something we could refer to as it was a material object.
We could analyze it, we could interpret how we sensed it, we could conceive it. It could be mysterious, misleading, hidden.
Moderns did create dimensions where the information could live. Someone gave it birth by genuine analysis and insights, someone did grow it, and someone even consumed it, attacked it, swallowed it. Professionals blossomed by it's generation and consumption.The information seemed to be immortal like species (apart from individuals) do. But information as species had to struggle to compete with other species. As contemporary biology suggests, the most fruitful species that gives birth to offspring maximum number win in the competition.
Then, the most fruitful kinds of message production survived: ads , marketing buzz, rumors, and ever-ending confirmation of ones existence, it is the creation of symbolic products around, event interpretation. Professionals seem to start declining. Profanes rule the world.
And it seems like the most miserable ones are professionals who want to see their delightful information fruits in the hallucinogen mushrooms of everlasting messaging, news.
There is no responsible decision making. There is no truth. Just actions, visions... and pain.
When will we find that ethics is converged into epistemology... Or when we find out that our epistemology is born by the bizarre "mass" ethics of 20-th century?
