Between us, there are things I’d like to remember. I can’t put them into bits, though, because security by obscurity has a limited lifetime. I’m also not sure what you wish to remember, whether some of it you’d rather chalk up to momentary lapses of composure… reserve… reason… sanity… niceness… judgment, and let it go unmarked. And vice-versa. But maybe you’d change your mind – or I would – and one of us would still like to remember, beyond what our grey matter permits as time passes.
Director-elect Dilettante Deb, while wearing her professor hat, notes that her students are becoming more wary of the notion of the public, digital expression of identity, and exhibit concerns about the lack of privacy they face, how the information they may have expected to be shared in a small community of interested people can be taken and repurposed in ways to which they hadn’t assented.
And that’s not what I want for our conversations either. But now that you and I won’t have as many chances to meet over coffee, or share taxis to the airport, or backchannel on irc until I make you spit out your coffee, or laugh in a way that brings both of us sheer pleasure, how do we make those places for us, just between us, not for the minutes? How can we keep track of the things that matter, entre nous?