A pean to the disrupted – The end of coherent thought is neigh
If New York City never lacked for something, those are the immensely talented, greatly gifted writers, whose words flow from the keyboards like milk and honey and whose voices whisper in your ear things no one wants to pay attention to. There is a sense of too much education wasted on too many lost causes in this essay by LEON Weiseltier…
The contrary insistence that the glories of art and thought are not evolutionary adaptations, or that the mind is not the brain, or that love is not just biology’s bait for sex, now amounts to a kind of heresy.
Journalistic institutions slowly transform themselves into silent sweatshops in which words cannot wait for thoughts, and first responses are promoted into best responses, and patience is a professional liability. As the frequency of expression grows, the force of expression diminishes: Digital expectations of alacrity and terseness confer the highest prestige upon the twittering cacophony of one-liners and promotional announcements. It was always the case that all things must pass, but this is ridiculous.
