Uncanny Valley, Anna Wiener

«Sometimes I would worry about my internet habits and force myself away from the computer, to read a magazine or a book. Contemporary literature offered no respite: I would find prose cluttered with data points, tenuous historical connections, detail so finely tuned it could only have been extracted from a feverish night of search-engine queries. Aphorisms were in; authors were wired. I would pick up books that had been heavily documented on social media, only to find that the books themselves had a curatorial affect: beautiful descriptions of little substance, arranged in elegant vignettes -gestural text, the equivalent of a rumpled linen bedsheet or a bunch of dahlias placed just so.

Oh, I would think, turning the page. This author is addicted to the internet, too.»

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