I'm currently reading a book called "The Shallows: What the Internet is Doing to Our Brains", by Nicholas Carr, and so far it hasn't told me much that I hadn't already figured out for myself. The internet is distracting us and ruining our attention spans. Carr provides the reader with a lot of interesting background information though, so from my perspective, it's still worth reading.
I'm reminded of another interesting piece of information that I once read (or heard), pertaining to the reason why people often walk into rooms and suddenly forget whatever mission they had in mind. It has to do with the fact that we evolved in a world without compartments, where there were no rooms. Once we moved away from the wide open vistas and stuffed ourselves into compartmented boxes, it in turn compartmentalized our thought processes. The end result of this is that when we suddenly find ourselves in a new room, whatever it was that we were thinking in the previous room sometimes vanishes from our mental horizons.
The internet can be like that. The continuous landscape of a book vanishes into a welter of enticing, neon-lit alleyways down which every imaginable distraction (or vice) is displayed. Every link is a doorway leading to another "room". It really isn't surprising that our thoughts can end up scattered and our internal calm shattered.
On the opposite end of the spectrum, I notice that some physical shops are taking things in the opposite direction. Yesterday, Willow and I were wandering through Berkeley (after stopping by a friend's house to buy a truly impressive record with real leaves pressed into the vinyl, followed by lunch at Zachary's pizza with Uncle Greg) when we stumbled across a coffee place called Artis. See an article here. We mostly went in just to use the bathroom, and I figured I'd pay for that privilege by buying some coffee. I figured it would be one of those places that brews each cup by hand, and I was right, but they took it one step farther. They roasted the beans by order too. I bought a pound of beans and watched them roast it for me. I must add that the bag that contains my newly roasted and purchased beans exclaims, "each bean in this bag was PICKED LOVINGLY BY HAND thousands of miles away".
Taking this to its logical conclusion, I envision that one day citizens will be able to wander into coffee shops and witness beard-tugging hipsters gathered around pots of soil as they watch coffee plants grow, waiting for the beans to be ready for harvesting so that they can conclude their transactions.
I wonder if this kind of thing is a reaction (conscious or otherwise) to the fast-paced, hectic online world that many of us inhabit. If so, I approve.
After we left, we went to East Bay Vivarium and looked at snakes and spiders. Willow wants me to get another python. I still have my eyes on the Beaded Lizards.
In other news, Willow's softball season is up and running. She keeps saying that each year will be her last, but keeps signing up again anyway. She's a busy girl.
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