Cypher: "You know, I know this steak doesn't exist. I know that when I put it in my mouth, the Matrix is telling my brain that it is juicy and delicious. After nine years, you know what I realize? [Takes a bite and chews]... Ignorance is bliss."
— The Matrix
Well, it's been about a week since I unplugged from
the Matrix social media in the form of Twitter. So far, the Prozac, Xanax, and vodka tonics have kept my DTs (delerium tweetens) to a dull roar. But I must admit I can't resist feeling for the empty plug in the back of my skull every now and then, and I miss all the wonderful imaginary friends and admirers I had collected there. The call-and-response format of the medium is highly addictive to prolix egomaniacs such as myself, and its realtime interruptions and distractions are a pleasing way to fill up the frequent, dull downtime which plagues an investment banker's day-to-day existence. (Twitter is ideal for telephonic drafting sessions and conference calls, for example.) One might even begin to suspect it was specifically designed to keep specimens such as me plugged happily into the battery piles of our Silicon Valley overlords.
At least for now, however, I remain escaped and at large. In addition to all the flattering attention and ego gratification, I miss the constant flow of clever tidbits, quotes, and links which people I followed fed into the stream. I also miss sharing the amusing and intriguing nuggets which I discovered with my followers. This forum is not appropriate for such—at least the way I have traditionally used it—and I have no intention of shaking one demanding monkey off my back only to transform this site into another. There is also the question of appropriateness, since I already try the patience of those readers who come to this site expecting wisdom—or at least amusing tirades—about things financial with poetry, pictures, and other innumerate drivel. Perhaps I will find a way to share such items in another way. I am experimenting as we speak.
In any event, friends, family, and colleagues in the real world seem to be pleased with my recent return to undistracted consciousness. The only one who is truly displeased with me is the Woman in Red, who complains I have abandoned her to other, less attentive digital louts. Sometimes I feel bad about this.
But then I remember she doesn't really exist anyway. Right, honey?
© 2011 The Epicurean Dealmaker. All rights reserved.