I wrote a piece about SOPA and what it could mean for the Internet. It’s not as comprehensive as other articles, but I think I addressed some real issues surrounding this bill. People were upset over the idea that porn would be stripped from the internet, but I’m not too sure the U.S. wants to fuck with a billion dollar industry.

Music websites though… independent artists and retailers though… our blogs though… We need to be active in attacking SOPA and PIPA.

SOPA. Stop Online Piracy Act.

Also, there’s the corresponding Senate, Protect IP. Preventing Real Online Threats to Economic Creativity and Theft of Intellectual Property Act.

I’m pretty sure I can separate myself from the internet for one day. Especially if it is in protest of a bill that threatens my experience on the internet.

I understand the premise of the bill: to prevent internet pirates from exploiting the creative work of others. I just can’t help but think it really protects the corporate interests that wish to monopolize their assets while further curtailing the artists that actually create that work.

Fuck them.

It’s weird.

What differentiated Facebook from any other social networking site before it, and has made it such a big part of our lives, is that it brought reality to the internet. Initially people couldn’t simply sign up with an email address, you had to be a real person with a college/high school account.

Anonymous and fakes were unheard of, the life you lived off the internet was the life you lived on the internet. Even initially, when the website was opened up to the entire world, you were the person you said you are, and you could meet people who said that they were.

But then people started to embellish who they were, as they have done on MySpace or Twitter or CrushSpot. Worst, they begin to imitate others as the website grew. The faces in this book belonged to others with no idea of what was happening.

But that’s normal.

I think that’s why people are so protective of Tumblr. The first rule of Tumblr, “To not speak about Tumblr,” is to protect one of the last havens of internet personas. It is said that the people on Facebook are people you know (unfortunately), but people on Tumblr are those you wish you knew.

I’ve had experiences with fakes here though… many…

I’ve been fortunate to allow people I’ve met here into my real life and friended them on Facebook, but is that really the point?

How many people have their Tumblrs and Facebooks connected?

How many folks here would get the mean side eye from friends and family if they read their blog?

I’m not condemning anyone who wants to keep Tumblr and their blog secret. We need outlets an escape from the torments of the real world… and Facebook.

I was watching Book of Eli last night. I’ve become rather obsessed with the movie since I saw it opening weekend. How can a blind nigga spend 30 years walking across the country brutally murdering anyone that tried to stop him from reaching “West” and still maintain so much swagger? It’s still absurd to think about.

I’ve paused from my extensive reading of various philosophy, economics and Hip-Hop mags to reread The Great Gatsby. A man, so consumed with his love for a high socialite, built a huge fortune out of the deepest depths of the criminal underworld. Here is a man with so much stuff and so much love, and yet he still didn’t measure up to her standards.

I remember a time when material things were our treasures. Our collections sat on shelves or in displays, not on websites or in hard drives. When our art consisted of paint and ink and wood and stone… and not of pixels and vectors. Our music were composed CD’s and vinyl… even the occasional cassette… with booklets containing credits and artwork… and not in iTunes with the artist and composer listed.

Some of the simplest tools mattered in Eli’s world. Chapstick… toys… music (in the form of a 1st generation iPod and BEATS BY DR. DRE)… hope…

Eli could devote more than 30 years to protecting and studying the King James Version of the Holy Bible, to the point that he could recite It word for word and died only after he had done so. It was all he had left, but Gatsby had this vast fortune and none of that mattered to him. Once he had been rejected once and for all, he was nothing. His murder at the end of the novel was useless compared to the death of his spirit.

Who are you?

What matters to you?

Can you find three things that represent who you are? That you can’t live without? That you can live with… because that’s all you have left?

I’m going to find my iTouch and spend some more time on Tumblr…