I’m working some ideas through my head for an essay. I’m wondering, what are the ontological consequences of anonymity, specifically in the era of Web 2.0. In fact, I’m also interested in the ontological consequences of amateurism (read ‘Web 2.0′). Web 2.0 is stripping away Dasein and slowly removing the humanity from existence. Not that this is a humanist manifesto. The individual is in contrast to the community and there is a reciprocal relationship, but Web 2.0 is destroying this bond by tightening it to the point where these two are not distinct. Web 2.0 is the linearization of ontology. The hermeneutical circle destroyed, we’re left with no answers, but simply no questions.

Web 2.0 is a bleak existence.

It’s a working title for a book. You’re going to be poor, it’s inevitable. Hyper-inflation will make your money worthless, plummeting house prices will make your house worthless and you aren’t qualified to hold down a job in a sector that will be employable in an economic depression (i.e. you’re a worthless little options trader). What then?

My advice is simple: the gold price will follow the way of the economy for awhile, but it will bottom out and then rise dramatically. When it gets down to around 600, buy, then forget. Put everything you have in gold and then read books for the next 10 years. Read lots and lots of books, improve your cooking skills, grow vegetables, learn an instument and learn a language or two. Use this time to improve yourself in a real and substantial way. Improve your inter-personal skills, become sincerely interested in flower arranging, talk about Kierkegaard and have debates about Napoleon. Go for long walks and become a better swimmer. Become formidable.

Nationalism is an anathema to me. It really ought to be an anathema to all Australians (in bygone years this has really been our national identity, to have an aversion to national identities), but recently Australia has fallen victim to the flag-toting, icon-revering ways of nationalism. Now, I understand the national pride that came out of the French revolution — fighting for universal suffrage is a noble and monumental act. I would have been the first to follow Napoleon into battle. I must stress, though, that Australia does not have anything to fight for, nor does it have much to rally around and celebrate with religious fervor…but, apparently, we should anyway.

It always starts with the cricket. A few hundred alsorans turn up to the summer series with their green-and-gold thongs (flip-flops), Australian flags and ready-at-hand racial slurs. After the cricket comes the tennis, where we celebrate the Australians until they all get knocked out, at which point we drape our flag over whichever poor sucker has the strongest connexion to our beloved land of magnificence and splendour. Finally, it ends with Australia day, where we celebrate our unlawful invasion and the subsequently mediocre culture that we have fostered in this, a nice place to live. Yes, Australia is a nice place to live, but it ain’t a cultural gold mine with a significant history and identifiable culture. We have much to celebrate and be happy about, but absolutely nothing to get fervent about. So, the next time somebody asks me where my patriotism is, I’ll respond with this Australian line: Up yer arse!

I don’t understand the Japanese insistence on whaling in the southern ocean, but I don’t understand the fervent anti-whalers, either. On the one hand we have a practice that is economically insignificant, culturally void and generally pointless; and on the other we have people fighting for a reasonably hollow cause. I’m not a bastard (I hope) when I say that whales really don’t matter all that much. Yes, they’re important for the ecosystem and they’re nice to look at, but in the grand scheme of things, a concentration of that many resources and that much fervent energy would be much better served in reducing human suffering.

Speciesism? It’s either a misguided dolt or a depraved intellectual who levels this sort of attack. Zoon logon echon — man is the animal that speaks with the logos. Aristotle knew it, you know it. It’s not a matter for ontics (read ‘science’), but something that goes right to the heart of ontology. Dasein, the authentic condition, is not for whales. Selfishness? I once knew a biology student who claimed that animal charities were more worthy of our help than human charities because “animals can’t look after themselves”. I don’t know where to begin in describing how selfish and cowardly this statement is, so I’ll leave it to you to contemplate.

Corey Delaney (Worthington?) is no person, he is a personage. He is not merely the embodiment of a generation, but a symptom of an age – he is the poster child of modernity, the caricature of globalised capitalism, the product of an ill-planned industrial revolution. In a word, he is the objectified.

In his hodge-podge ensemble of cheaply manufactured clothing, adorned with sunglasses, darkened for anonymity, with yellow rims that crave attention; Corey Delaney is MySpace, Facebook and the dunce cap all rolled into a singular form. An insolent child, an aspiring adult – he is neither. Corey Delaney is the illiterate given to editing the work of Dante, the tone deaf taken to criticising Rachmaninov, the amateur elevated to expert. Like any other citizen of this planet, he was given a computer and an audience. 500 people turned up to Corey Delaney’s party; how many did he know? 30? Corey Delaney is Web 2.0 and Web 2.0 is 500 underage drunks.

Corey Delaney’s saga is briefly summarised by the BBC in this article.