non multo bene

A popular social networking site has closed the account of one member in Italy because of her sharing an image of a same-sex kiss in honour of the International Day against Homophobia (over the weekend) was deemed to violate “the community’s standards on nudity and pornography.” Her own friends were relentless with their outrage and disgust and would not let the matter rest. People post offensive material all the time and convictions ought not to be shaken by the free expression of the contrariwise, and such utilities as social platforms have some nerve trying to legislate what is decent and presentable being that they are notoriously prying for every detail of ones existence in the first place. Network hosts can nonetheless choose to do whatever despicable thing they want and can choose to shy away from the hint of controversy they wish to avoid—although that is the bailiwick of oppressive regimes and might not fancy pretenders usurping their scapegoats. I have a feeling, though, that any cowardice or careful and insincere morals are not going to do anything to stop this activist and her message.

social contact, social-contract

Writing for BBC Future Magazine, Michael Bond presents an engrossing feature article exploring the human mind’s resiliency and fragility through the lens of deprivation and isolation.  From time to time, everyone craves peace and quiet and everyone has a different social threshold and defines interactions differently but no one wants or ought to feel secluded and lonesome.  Citing several extreme cases, experimentally self-imposed and on long, solitary adventures or with imprisonment and ransom, Bond examines the physical and especially the mental toll that lack of human contact causes.  The metrics have already been established when it comes to the inability to focus and concentrate properly as well as degraded immune and slower rates of healing when it comes to bodily health and performance, but the psychological yardstick is something that was only measured in feats too brave or too dangerous and cruel to be repeated—mostly.

Absent others as a projection or reflection of ones inner-thoughts, fears and expectations of what is normal go unchecked, and alone, one can quickly slide into madness with no way to measure or moderate ones monologue—though happily there are many stories of endurance and finding meaning and ways to cope with ones isolated state.  Of course, these mind-bending examples clearly demonstrate the effects that long-term loneliness can present—however, I wonder too, if researchers are inspecting those less intense periods when remoteness is refuted—by degrees at least, by outreach and being social at a distance.  I wonder if we don’t risk losing the ruler that society and culture imbues, as with extreme isolation.  It seems we might court more than bad manners if there’s no one else to mediate our demands—or cause us to step outside ourselves; we can too easily run away from the here and now and tune out challenges those physically present, like co-workers, present to our own virtual tribes of agreement, like turning in on ourselves—comfortably self-sufficient.  Those members are not the same as the imaginary friends that some have successful created to withstand the assault of separation, as there are bonds outside of the medium, and human contact via the æther is still rewarding and fulfilling, but I do think we ought to be careful not to confuse the familiar and amenable as a genuine means of de-authenticating the common struggle.

the internet is leaking

This advertisement installed in a field on the roadside was funny and a real Hingucker with the aliens Felonius Gru and one of the minions of Doctor Nefario from the movie Despicable Me. I recognized the little pill-bodied creatures instantly but had to ask to find out what they were all about.

adrifters

An older but enlightening and reassuring post from the archives of Today I Found Out was really something to assuage the fears of silent-worriers, explaining the nature of those strange and sometimes persistent odd shapes that glide over ones field of vision. I always thought that these transparent zeppelins were microbes darting around ones eyeball (always there but easier to discern when focused on infinity—blue or grey skies—or in any visual landscape of low-contrast), which usually receding just to the periphery if one tried to focus on them, only to return to the centre of ones eye when not looking.
TIFO informs readers, as a public service it seems since there were quite a lot of people relieved to find out it was not some dread sign of the onset of blindness, poisoning or the effects of staring at the sun too long as a kid during long car trips, that the phenomenon is common to everyone, even if they are loath to discuss such optical figments as they are hard to articulate—and besides, it sounds a bit crazy and may be a sign that something is seriously wrong with them—and goes by the name mydesopsia (eye-floaters—or en france, mouches volantes und auf Deutsch, fliegende Mücke, flying flies) and are gelatinous bits of the vitreous humour coming loose from the rear of ones eyeball and then floating around inside of it. The squiggly flashes that avert themselves from ones gaze and cannot be studied (or fretted over directly) are usually the electric impulses released as bits of the vitreous humour detach and bump against the receptors and nerves of the eye, the discharge interpreted by the sense of vision as flashes. The article has some bonus facts and some warnings and disclaimers, as no one should take this or any accounting as a substitute for a professional diagnosis, nor be afraid to share ones own weird mirages.