Instant

I recieved a record amount of emails today - sixteen just for me, not including the ones I picked up for the family. That's what happens when you start trading online. The problem is that you're expected to respond to all of them quickly. Not like the pre-email days, when a message actually took some time to get from A to B. When you sent a letter, you didn't expect a response for a few days at least - now, if you're a few hours tardy in shooting off a reply the recipient notices. Everyone appears to feel time speeding up on them, and subsequently our methods both of interrelating and living in general are becoming more frantic. Or is it the other way around? I've always wondered why it seems that each year passes more swiftly than the last. Could it be a result of our increasingly "instant" society? We want food now and are given McDonalds. We want entertainment now and are given television. We want health now and are given quack diets and artificial excercise routines. Oh, we've done quite the impressive job of creating an instant world, but does anyone enjoy it? I suppose some do - like an old addict enjoys a hit - all the savour and thrill gone, only the aching need remaining. Instant is killing us almost as fast as crack or heroin, it's true, but that's not the worst of it. It's leaching our glory and greatness away. Yes, Men were great once - imperfectly and twistedly great, but nevertheless they were mortal gods compared to the mean residue that society (created by our choices) has made us. We have worn ourselves out "like butter scraped over too much bread" in panting after piddling trifles. Time is not at fault. It is as constant as it ever was. The blame rests directly on our doorsteps.