I Dream of Quieter Computing

I’m reasoning of quieter computing. Everything these days is solid and refresh rates, is clouds and cloud-shapes, is brought to you successful feeds and successful troughs. It’s difficult not to conifer for a forested internet, an imagined 1 of searching and finding, of diligent and aimless wandering.

I deliberation of raising the torch overhead to publication long-form, individual updates from anons I someway consciousness I know, pursuing their links into the underbrush, marking the way pinch #551A8B streaks. The rin gong resonance that rises erstwhile I fto my cursor drift on the edges of a hand-made and hand-honed webring.

We can’t “go back” — we’re remembering it incorrect anyway. Too precocious grows the consequence of dashing ourselves upon the rocky stream rapids of the early erstwhile we’re each eyes group connected bygone ages.

I dream alternatively of building thing new: arsenic we march pinch judge and beardown limbs into the early of computing, I dream of sentences written pinch the definitive intent of making readers crinkle their eyes up aliases grin knowingly, of handmade websites viewed connected hackable hardware, of individual computers made personal erstwhile more.

An net made for its denizens and dwellers by its admirers — 'tis a consummation devoutly to beryllium wished. What dreams whitethorn come, indeed.

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