The true measure of emptiness in this heedless age of bleating self-promotion may very well be the 'tweet'. A besotted pendulum sways not with dependable rhythms but with the faithless currents of sexless infatuation. Images and ideas no longer have currency outside the empty aura we appropriately call the"viral."
My dear friend Currado Malaspina is a lonely man dwelling in the past. He no longer knows what to make of all this 'new media'.
He recently found the following on the internet while doing an innocent search for 19th century Celtic limericks:
Alas, the private life of contemplation is no longer available to him. He now glows vermilion as a ubiquitous presence on social media. After so many years laboring at his craft he has been pitifully reduced to the condition of a cute kitten yawning into a pillow.
Dada is now officially dead.