“That's
the word that comes to mind,” Peter said, “Impermanence!”
Unfortunately, I
hadn't heard the question. Our meeting of the Sarasota Chapter of the
Florida Writers Association was having a discussion of impressions of
readings we had just heard, and I had thoughtlessly wandered off
mentally while taking notes about the meeting. I caught Peter's
response and scribbled it down on a fresh page, but I missed the
question. I was stuck with “Impermanence!” staring at me from the
otherwise blank page. I'm pretty sure we weren't discussing Buddhism,
but Rod, our moderator, soon moved to a different speaker so I was
left adrift in a room full of avid, attentive listeners who decided
“Impermanence” was indeed the right word!
The
word bounces around in my mind like bug in a Mexican jumping bean. It
magically appears on the computer screen as I sit here typing. How do
I rid myself of this enigma? I can only envision one quick definition
of impermanence, and it has absolutely nothing to do with our meeting! Impermanence is my definition of the Internet. Can
I sneak in an article about the evolution of the electronic media
that has so revolutionized our vocation, or avocation, redefining
impermanence, as a blog component of last Wednesdays' meeting?
Probably not, they're a sharp group. But, here goes anyway.
Nothing
better defines impermanence than clicking through your bookmarks on
your PC. Really! Try it! Start at the top of your bookmark file and
click your way down the list. See how many of your favorite websites
are nothing more than a “404” error. Impermanence! Those valued
treasures that you so diligently marked for future reference fall
victim to today's economics. If no one pays money to keep that
website active, it fades into the ether as easily as it came into
being. As a matter of fact, it disappears in a single keystroke!
Web
sites disappear so much quicker than the printed word. Once the
Internet has pulled down your website, you are on your own. If you
didn't electronically copy the material to your own temporal
universe, you are out of luck. There is no recourse.
Books
are not subjected to the same stark, brutally traceless removal from
the face of the earth! Your library may remove old, tattered, or
unpopular books from their shelves. Brick and mortar book stores may
not ever carry the printed material you want to read or buy in the
first place, but there are resources around the world dedicated to
saving the printed word. The Library of Congress is dedicated to that
end, but who saves the websites? And how could they?
Anything
found on the web fits the definition of impermanence. Don't believe
me? Just click through your bookmarks. Let me know at my e-mail
address, let's see, this month it's aah, no. not that one, let me see
if I can find the current one I use...
