Note: unfinished post.
Still waiting, dear worst-reader. Still waiting for the moment of zen. Or am I waiting for an awakening? Nomatter. The deluge of arm-chair spying lead by some whipper snapper from god’s country, better known as herenorthere, who now lives in god’s former country, has no end. It’s as though the floodgates of happy-armageddon have been painted with bright smiley faces only so that those same faces can brighten the very dim-lit skyline of today is called Berlin but should be called Eine Trostlose Ruin mit guten Nightlife. Indeed, dear worst-reader, there is no sight in end… Wait. Scratch that. Again. There is no end in sight for the bottomless (and topless) yields of proving, in this wondrous western fail-upwards world, whether or not individuality or collective will be the mantra for guiding our species into the future.
Berlin’s digital exiles: where tech activists go to escape the NSA | World news | The Observer.