The World Wide Web
I find these days, I swim more and more in an oneiric information fantasy. Whereas previously information informed our world, it now structures it, but on the basis of an ever-wandering walk of connections, a hallucination of an investigation, a vacuuming of our lives into the endlessly recursive vicarious from which only the lucid dreamer and surrealist can pull use.
Action, and the aesthetic appreciation of lived moments, seem like the only escape from this opiate miasma.1
Notes:
1 And yet, dedomenaut I am, and a lifetime or hallucinogens and academia has well trained me for such.