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Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of someone gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
“Tis some visitor”, I muttered, “tapping at my chamber door-
Only this, and nothing more.”
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of someone gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
“Tis some visitor”, I muttered, “tapping at my chamber door-
Only this, and nothing more.”
A quirk of literature in general is that it is open to interpretation. And despite what an author may have originally intended, a poem can have a completely different inference and can even draw new meaning. A song can mean something completely different after that first kiss behind the bleachers. And so here we are, 165 years later and rapping at my chamber door has new context.
In this day and age, everyone is plugged in to some degree or another. We can text, tweet, blog, forum post, instant message, digg, and that’s only mentioning what I did this afternoon. The list is practically endless. Is it a bad thing? Absolutely not, it brings us more options to communicate.
Only this, and nothing more.
Is there a problem? Possibly, I find myself spending easily a few hours a day on all of it. I must check my favorite news sites in the mornings, my sports scores, respond to some cheeky text my old roommate sent me, keep up with my email dutifully, read my tweets religiously, and get in a game of Sudoku all while on the train. All at my finger tips, this is … wait for it… awesome! It truly is. But tonight on my way home, my mobile was dead and I was sad and bored. I ended up doing something I do not normally do on the train. I looked up and around the car.
And there is my raven.
I left work a bit later than usual, beyond peak commuter traffic. The car was only half full, but most of them were undoubtedly off the clock and heading home as well. With one key difference, their devices all had juice left, and people were texting, talking on the phone, playing games, listen to music and the like. I spent the rest of the ride to my home city thinking of how much time I spend plugged in, doing something. I had to stifle a snicker at the situation.
Nevermore?
Doubtful, I need to be plugged in. It’s how I communicate with people who live cross country and beyond the border. This isn’t a preach article to go become a hippy either (if you want to go that route, I hear folkies do it better, just saying).
This is an open thought, interpret away.
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