‘Grab one of those,’ Caleb says, pointing to a little plastic basket like the pharmacists put their meds in. The thing bristles with thumb drives, a scaled mountain of information built by an avalanche of bytes. I ask why there are so many and he makes a cadent sound in the back of his throat, an I don’t know with the consonants removed. ‘It’s a breed of social dissonance, people validating themselves by feeding media to others. USB’s are just the latest mix-tape.’ I take one at random, wondering how much thought went into all that discarded data.
Nic Addenbrooke is a freelance writer, editor, content creator, radio broadcaster, part-time poet and sometimes artist. Nic has been coming to terms with existence for years. He currently lives and works in Brisbane where he struggles to turn the cacophony of voices in his head into things of substance. It doesn’t always work but occasionally produces a nice veneer of sanity.