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By Ophelia Chong June 11th, 2008
Under: Columnists

You know where I went to High School (High School Reunion), you listened to my latest playlist (Muxtape), you know where I was at lunch (BrightKite), you know my favorite blogs (Digg, Tumblr), you’ve seen my latest vacation photos (Flickr), you probably know who my friends are (Facebook) and it’s all my own doing.
With every click of the keyboard I build tendrils that stretch across other tendrils. Each one intertwining and spinning off to new directions. My tag cloud meets your tag cloud and will spawn a rainstorm of commonality.
Too Much Information
Our intersections meet and fuse with similarities and differences. We connect or disconnect with each glance at our flickering images. I can hold you at your word, the ones you wrote two years ago. You can tell me that I was never in Geneva, or that the statue I am standing next to is a copy of one in Las Vegas, which is a copy of the original in Rome. I have no where to hide because I have shone the light on my life.
One of my favorite Jerzy Kosinski novels is Being There (1971). The main character “Chance” is a middle-aged gardener who lives in the townhouse of a wealthy man in Washington, D.C.; “Chance” has lived in the house his whole life, tending the garden, with virtually no contact with the outside world. In today’s world he would be the man who has no cell phone and no computer. He has no email address, he doesn’t even consider getting one, no matter how many times he’s offered one. He owns only a single lens reflex camera. He reads the newspaper. He has basic cable. His phone is connected to the wall. You probably get a birthday card from him in the mail, and his handwriting is legible. He will only say hello to you if he’s shaken your hand. He is the 20th Century man, and you can’t find him, because he sees no value in being known by strangers.
We made our bed and we must lay in it, and in twenty seconds you will see images of it on Photobucket. We are at the mercy of our need to leave a mark, to show we exist. “I am here!” you shout, “look here and here! I am unique!” you cry. Yes, you are and I am forwarding your uniqueness to all my friends. And if you are really special I will add you to my RSS feed.
Once we have reached our limit TMI (too much information), will we back off and start taking down those bits of jetsam and flotsam we sent out to the ocean of collective memories? Can we? Words on the internet are like raindrops in the ocean, it’s virtually impossible to erase yourself completely.
You know too much, yet you know nothing because its all just words until you have shaken my hand.
Ophelia Chong is an artist out of Los Angeles, you can find some of her wonderful work at Flickr.
If you enjoyed that why not find a job or read our guide to working in the 21st century. You can also join our Kiva team or hire me for your project.
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