Dangerous ideas. Now that’s a romantic idea. As if, as if, the whole world is at risk. The something thought by your thought producing organ produced something — an idea — so risqué it shook the world and hit the magnitude ‘DANGEROUS’. In capital letters, this Dangerous Idea is a creature of its own — it has become a thing. A Thing. Why are we afraid of radical ideas? Why are there so many ideological barriers? The technicals so easily overcome, but these damn ideologies, cramping our style.
Bees, chickens and goats become emus and zebras and bears in ideologies. Ideas… ideologies. What?
And now all I can think about (ideas) is whether it is appropriate to pause whilst free writing. I hope so… otherwise its not very freeing. [Pause]
Perhaps that’s what we need more of in this world: pausing. Drink in this god-awesome air! Stand in awe of the potential. Lie flat on the earth, rain falling. Feel it spin — the earth spiraling with you. Enjoy the ride. Chase the pavement, or tundra, or whatever floats your boat. Water. Whater. Ha.
Water is like an idea. Both have little to no value to most of the world. We don’t pay for them, we only pay for their delivery. For the service they offer to us. Toilet flushing, tea drinking ideas, window wiping ideas.
Teardrop ideas. I’m not sure if this makes me sad or not. Do we need to put a price on everything? We say it’s strange that we don’t value ecosystem services, but in the race to quantify costs, aren’t we missing the point?
Ideas are priceless. Perhaps that is what makes them dangerous. Meme or no meme. I want my ideas.
How do you describe a meme without existing in one anyway? Sounds like bullshit to me.
Writing a full page of text takes longer than 10 minutes.
