Monday, November 26, 2007

I got mail, therefore I am.

Dilbert got the human psyche spot on here. Most people need continuous confirmation that they exist and the easiest, least stressful method is via superficial attention from other people.

Most people have outrageously big address books crammed to the rafters with gratuitous addys that link to gratuitous people that are also seeking confirmation of a robotic existence that gains meaning via email.

This curious human affliction is great to watch from the sidelines and to speculate even wager on who of any given grouping of lab rts has a breakdown first.

One could sceptically wager big bucks on whether the said breakdown is actually real or just a desperate bid to keep up with the latest fad.

Most people boast about the size of their onbox and enthuse about the wasted hours wading through meaningles mails that clog the system just like cholestrol clogs the arteries and leads directly to heart failure.

All in a vain bid for affirmation and confirmation of existence. Vain because fleeting, as the whole process begins again at least once a day and has to be repeated as and when necessary.

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