@thefurlinator – – –
Most importantly though, books are magazines are real. They have gravity. You can even stack books on top of each other to form a makeshift TV stand. That’s big. The presence of a raw, physical, individualized object allows our monkey brains to form a relationship with a book — but also a phone. And herein lies the danger. Developing existential bonds with books, which are one thing and that thing only, is directly tied into the content of the book. Nobody forms sentimental relationships with books just because they look and feel nice — though those are certainly important factors. But you bond with it because the material resonates with you. The fusion of those bonds makes books feel special, even yours. Magazines kind of replicate the same thing, inasmuch that the idea is to develop a relationship with the brand instead of a single book. But still, they live with you. They sit in the corner of your bathroom floors. Bathroom buddies.
This is the relationship we now have with our smartphones. But because the content inside the raw physical object is a never-ending infinite stream of progress, insanity, and everything between, the secondary relationship to the content and soul is lost amid a sea of convenience and list of things you forgot about and are now being told to love. And video games. And social media. There’s so much other shit to do on our phones than read that (focused, conscious) reading almost never wins out in the end. Our anxiety about being up-to-date on pointless goings-on in major social media hemispheres almost always gets the best of us (and it certainly affects the best of us as well). Articles are written to reflect an average landing time of fourteen seconds before the user hits a clink or swipes left, on to something that could potentially be better. Forever.
How to remedy this?
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excerpt from Furlin’s recent Queen House Publication