Copyright © Louise Bostock 2007-2013. Please give credit where credit is due.
Cold. Cold. Cold. Sunny. But cold.When I think of the millions of people who write weblogs, and the millions more who chatter to themselves on Twitter, I think of Adlai Stevenson, the American politician, who wrote : "The sound of tireless voices is the price we pay for the right to hear the music of our own opinions."
Stevenson died in 1965, and could never have imagined the virtual cacophany that would break out in the last decade of the 20th century. We all have the legal and political right, and now many of us have the means, to publish our own thoughts and opinions. But amid the millions of voices all busily trying to make sense of the world as they know it, who is there listening to just ours? Tuning in to just our one voice amid the chatter?And, most important, who out there cares what I have to say anyway?
Cold. Cold. Cold. Sunny. But cold.When I think of the millions of people who write weblogs, and the millions more who chatter to themselves on Twitter, I think of Adlai Stevenson, the American politician, who wrote : "The sound of tireless voices is the price we pay for the right to hear the music of our own opinions."
Stevenson died in 1965, and could never have imagined the virtual cacophany that would break out in the last decade of the 20th century. We all have the legal and political right, and now many of us have the means, to publish our own thoughts and opinions. But amid the millions of voices all busily trying to make sense of the world as they know it, who is there listening to just ours? Tuning in to just our one voice amid the chatter?And, most important, who out there cares what I have to say anyway?
