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The next American Idol.

Kids These Days.

When I take a step back and look at my day, I realize that a large chunk of time is spent sitting. Sitting at a computer. The internet is an amazing thing with with endless amounts of knowledge¬†information. Computer games can be quite entertaining, co-oping with friends and people on the other side of the planet I otherwise never would have met. There are countless avenues for me to discover new music, how else would I have heard The Flat Duo Jets? A mid 80’s-90’s rockabilliy punk blues band, whom only achieved mild success, but deserved far greater. A few key strokes here, a click there, a flick of a finger, and I know what all my brothas are doing at college. What they’re eating, who they’re flirting with, it’s like I’m practically with them.

But when does it become too much? Where do we cross the line and say, “Alright, I’m relying too much on the internet for my self-satisfaction. For my entertainment. For my day-to-day life.”

We’re the last generation to remember what life was like before the internet was mainstream, before computers were an integral part of our lives.¬†

Well, I’ve had enough. For 30 days I’m going to have up to one hour a day (but preferably less) of recreational computer use. I’m also going to try and cut down on any tasks that have non-computer based alternatives.

Instead of iCal use a real planner. Enjoy the scratch of the pen as it glides across the imperfect paper. As the ink spills out, permanently etching every flick of the wrist.

Listen to records or live music. Really listen. The sound isn’t compressed, the sound waves aren’t coming at you squarely, they have fluidity now. Hear it? I do.

Read a book. A novel, science fiction, romance, I don’t care what it is—just read something. Note the smell of the book as you open it, the imperfect print, the familiar coarseness of the pages. The Nostalgia that floods in after you’ve been waiting to pick up right where you last left off. The characters haven’t move an inch, uttered a word, waiting for your presence. They are all conjured by you. Sure, they may be the writers creation, but how you interpret them is yours and only yours. Not something on a cinema screen that everybody has seen, but a private screening for your eyes and your eyes only.

Well, I suppose I’ve used 30 minutes of my allotted time for today then. Think about it, try it for yourself.¬†