The sweeter result of tools that are also toys is upon us. They have no hardness save a necessary hardness of expression. The time when tyrants could use social convention to easily impose psychic isolation has passed. In mid-century America, Allen Ginsberg set to make us blush with tales of formerly forbidden longings in the night. And because form emanates from us, there is no fear of foolishness in us.
Nothing can mask our duty to live fully.
Expression is not an occasion for Prufrock's diffidence but a mere vibration of vocal chords. On the realization that webmastery is a responsibility of truth, Ritter's pages echo the anxieties that vexed the modern world of the 1900s. Now spasms vex anew, infinitely more so since technology became 0s and 1s. It is normal and fitting we begin a quest of self-discovery with humility. Humility enough to be anxious that we find just that voice, just that word, and just that illustration of it.