In my grandparent’s basement, on the wall, there are pictures of ugly, frowning people, relatives of mine, in that ghostly, milky sepia coloring all those 19th Century photos have. They’re dead, those people, and some part of them is part of me – but if they had ever spoken to me through those dusty frames (and I imagined they did), Great Great Grandfather would be dead twice, his second life smashed on the mantle.
Blogs Make You Immortal or Infamous
Writing is the surest way to become immortal. At least it was, until Writing married Google and their children grew up blogging. Immortality is now open to the public, but diluted in such a way that would-be giants have little to chew. All can and will live on, but will shrink to fit the room – and talk about each other incessantly with voices much bigger and lasting than themselves.