In the future, offered Andy Warhol in a more memorable moment from a long time ago, everyone will be famous for fifteen minutes. If you are wondering who Andy Warhol is, then perhaps he misspoke himself ever so slightly. But I digress.
Now, in answer to a question no one, I suspect, has ever asked, you can live on and in theory forever, at least on Facebook, after you've shuffled off this mortal coil. So now I'm thinking I'll need to amend my will to list a legacy contact and set up caches of profile pictures and banner photos that this person can use after I've unfriended this life.
I'm not sure if Irene Cara is serving as advisor to Facebook on this type of policy revision (based on the video, I think she took herself out of contention as a fashion consultant) though I think if Mr. Zuckerberg were to contact the spirit of Jim Carroll, he could line up enough business to take him into the new millennium.
-bill kenny
Showing posts with label the good is oft interred with their bones.. Show all posts
Showing posts with label the good is oft interred with their bones.. Show all posts
Tuesday, February 17, 2015
Monday, December 1, 2014
The Evil that Men Do.....
Sometimes politics is geographic and not just philosophic. When the nuclear reactor in Chernobyl failed and clouds of poisonous pellets poisoned the air and water around the Cancer Zone that was ground zero, my family (which in those days was my wife and son) and I lived in Offenbach, West Germany.
A story that was page one on this side of the Atlantic when it happened and then slid below the fold and then to an inside page in a matter of days, was a front page fixture for weeks at a time in our newspapers. Patrick and his friends were kept away from the sandboxes in the public parks because, well, you just didn't know and I followed with a morbid fascination the end of life stories of very brave, but ill-equipped, people who had hoped to stop a calamity that overtook and consumed them.
I confess to having nearly forgotten about it, all of it even while hoping the world as an abstract would never so do. Last Sunday evening "60 Minutes" reminded all of us again what happens when we play God and when we fail.
There will come soft rains falling forever on the streets of Pripyat and elsewhere until everything we know is just swept away and we remain, naked and heedless of the lessons life tried to teach us.
-bill kenny
A story that was page one on this side of the Atlantic when it happened and then slid below the fold and then to an inside page in a matter of days, was a front page fixture for weeks at a time in our newspapers. Patrick and his friends were kept away from the sandboxes in the public parks because, well, you just didn't know and I followed with a morbid fascination the end of life stories of very brave, but ill-equipped, people who had hoped to stop a calamity that overtook and consumed them.
I confess to having nearly forgotten about it, all of it even while hoping the world as an abstract would never so do. Last Sunday evening "60 Minutes" reminded all of us again what happens when we play God and when we fail.
There will come soft rains falling forever on the streets of Pripyat and elsewhere until everything we know is just swept away and we remain, naked and heedless of the lessons life tried to teach us.
-bill kenny
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