I listen, I read, I watch videos. I follow one thought to the next . I let the hours slide by. Then, wonder why.
Is it really a lust for learning? A curiosity for knowing? What am I to do with this insight into change, community, journalism, technology and, now cancer, dying fathers and blogging.
I like the idea of zero life when I hear that someone too young has died. If I don't hear the news, does it happen? As I wait for my father to draw his last, labored breath I realize everyone is too young
Edward Vielmetti started me off on a tangent when he delicioused a link on going EmailZero, which, when I read led me to his Oct. 8 post on Twitter Zero.
Basically, the argument is don't read all of Twitter; just keyword it - that is search for keywords that you care about. It worked in Usenet; works elsewhere too.
Again, I stumbled into this practice without realizing others do it; just as I once could not ignore a ringing phone, but now can with ease I find that I can dismiss unread items in the rss; ignore twitter for days; skip friendfeed, facebook. too...
Instead, I rely on the Tweetscan of words I'm most interested in for Twitter, RSS feeds by individuals of Twitter or subjects collected via search.twitter.com
I read via Ed about Facebook Zero - no, but maybe the sepia idea would work
Scott Brown on Facebook Friendonomics Brown called the Facebook app Fade Utility, something that would blur the neglected profile. It calls attention to what you are ignoring, then you can decide if you should/could/want to pay attention
But I'm usually happy enough reading the status updates via the RSS. But even then I'll just nuke the whole thing.
Wish I could nuke some of what is happening now. My daughter jokes with a coworker that it is a good thing that they didn't start the weight-loss contest a few weeks ago. After all, the pounds slide off easily now - 12 pounds in 10 days despite the fact that she's emptied the Halloween candy bowl twice, gobbled chips by the handful and endured her mother's forced home-made meals, plates of vegies and offers of cheese. Yea, Katie has a legup. She has cancer.
It's the same reasoning e she uses with a co-worker moaning about weight gain over pregnancy. "I know a cure," she says quietly.
And when another co-worker complains about a bad day - something happened at school - Katie stops that with a smile, and the line. Oh, really you have cancer too?
The lines tumble out of her mouth so quickly. I wonder if this is her way of ensuring she knows that it is real.
Today gives us another reason to move back home. The MRI folks need the ultrasound. The ultrasound guy says he sent it three times and he knows the fax is working because no one else complains. The fax? I don't think so.
That smile carries her into a district meeting, where the boss announces with tears what's up with Katie. That tears up more, who offer to help in anyway they can. She jokes so they stop crying.
ha. ha. ha.