This is a test of the Internet Broadcasting System. For the next sixty seconds I will expose a private thought to a faceless audience. This is only a test.
Broadcast media are at everyone's fingertips. We post. We update. We publish. We send. It has never been so easy to have an audience.
Readership and friendship intimate fame; followers and subscribers spawn celebrities. We want to leave an imprint in our world, even if it's digital and the village is virtual.
If we are honest, these status markers are mere substitutes for the emptiness, loneliness, and disappointment we feel with our page on the time-space continuum. We can't stop biting our nails; we can't lose five pounds; we can't stop downloading pornography; we can't stop accruing debt; and we certainly can't persuade others to do the same.
But we can publish posts and leave comments. We can update status and forward emails. We can share personality tests and suggest music for iTunes. We can feed the endless stream of bandwidth, clogging the virtual toilet with more binary code that suffices for ourselves.
Internet Broadcasting System (IBS) is wireless, tireless, and high-speed. Make sure you clean up after yourselves (i.e., 1110010100001).
If this had been an actual emergency, you would have been instructed to tune into one of the broadcast stations in your area.
This shift, from receiving to generating media, has created an enormous epistemological shift between reading and writing, from talking to writing. Reading, by virtue of the constant interruptions we face due to electronic communication, is harder than ever before, whereas typing and publishing have become easier than at any point in human history. (Freeman, The Tyranny of Email, 98).