I’ve copied an excerpt from http://jasonkelly.com/, a very insightful site and newsletter on stocks and the current state of the world ecoonomy. This exerpt is more about life though.
I highly suggest subscribing to his paid weekly letters. They help keep me up to date on the world’s happenings and are from a very knowledgeable source.
“I’ve noticed recently when meeting people visiting Japan from abroad that I rarely find the meaningful conversations I crave — and found in times past. The overseas-travel filter used to deliver learned, inquisitive people into my life. We’d size each other up, find common ground, then traverse that ground to find what the other could contribute to our own body of knowledge. We’d both emerge better informed, in possession of a wiser perspective on this mutual journey around the sun.
What I get now is a collection of thought fragments, most of them irrelevant. I’ll begin discussing a topic and find myself instantly removed from it and embarked on a kaleidoscopic journey through an internet trivia wonderland. It goes something like this:
“The cracks and bumps in this road are remnants of the March 11 earthquake,” I say while driving toward the disaster zone. “Believe it or not, the road was much worse than this until a month ago.”
“Oh, wow,” says A. “I saw a YouTube video of road crews fixing highways after disasters. I think I have it here.” He pulls out his smartphone and starts searching.
“I took shots of the longest road on earth,” says B. “It’s in Australia.” He flips open his iPad and starts swishing through a gallery of photos, then taps one to fill the screen. “See? It was an amazing journey. Just amazing. I met a guy there who’d been around it three times on a bicycle. This is him. The guy on his left was named Bill, I think. He was amazing, too.”
“Here’s the video!” cries A. He turns up the volume and plays a video of a road crew at work somewhere. Nobody knows why we’re listening to it.
“Did you see The Simpsons’ road trip episode?” asks C. “It was brilliant, absolutely brilliant.”
“The one where Bart made a fake driver’s license?” asks B.
“Yeah! I was dying. I think I have it here somewhere.” He starts searching his device.
And so it goes. What happened to the earthquake-damaged road we were driving on? What happened to the scenes passing by? What happened to getting somewhere in a conversation? Who cares about all this digital inconsequentia? Why are we looking at and listening to evidence of other experiences, instead of absorbing the current experience?”