Monday, October 1, 2007

Web content is probably one of the worst time investments ever, with more than four solid years under our belts, and yet we appear to march willfully onward, no end in sight. Think about it. An evening discussion takes 30-40 minutes to publish and only 15 seconds to consume, all for free and sometimes by complete strangers, which puts things firmly in the red.

Now, obviously I’m not suggesting we charge for this shit, nor do I expect you to read for a commensurate 30-45 minutes–this isn’t the slow class, after all, where subject-verb conjugation am spooky–but the wacky proportions are interesting. It’s like you build an enormous blimp powered by unicorn farts and fancy, and then prior to liftoff a passerby drops a lit match into a fuel tank. That’s if I were doing this for any other reason than shameless self-interest, of course.

I’ve been trying to broaden my media portfolio recently with an influx of books, and the current interest is Freakonomics, a fascinating look at the mechanics whirring beneath everything from rigged sumo matches to how realtors sell their own houses. Books simply feel more real, a far more authentic experience than, say, the Internet. The physicality of the medium plays a huge role in this, and the tactility is something I appreciate. Sure, I probably won’t retain anything after reading this book, but at least the pages felt good.