The highs of cheap wine
I’ve jotted down some thoughts on knowing nothing, ai in the arts, writing, and some poetry. These posts all coalesced into more confusion: I don’t even know how this place works; I can’t figure out why people read what they read; what I think is interesting maybe isn’t.
At first this put me off. How can a random post about ai become a champagne toast while a poem—that I think should hit—falls off the vine like a wrinkled, dried out, tasteless grape? Is it subject matter? Tags? Meta descriptions? Me? And yes, for a bit, it bugged me.
People like the cheap samples and not the more expensive bottles at the back?
The ubiquitous boxed wine sold out while the Grand Cru sits undisturbed?
And then it came to me. None of it matters. The content, the blog posts, the product just sits on a shelf, like any other commodity. Some of it gets consumed and some of it lays around. Unlike a commodity, it will continue to sit there (unless I delete it, which I‘ve decided not to do) and maybe, with luck or with time, a passerby may pick up an old bottle, blow off the dust, uncork, decant, and enjoy the best damn glass of wine ever...
...they may even try another bottle next time.
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