Futurist sensibility = no sensibility.

The "Futurist sensibility", according to Marinetti, is the modern mind set brought about by our dependence on telephones, trains, cars, tv ... all technology, essentially. All our crazy gadgets have effected our psyche more than we realize, he argues. He dwells on a list of the phenomena caused by our obsessions. They all move us further away from European ideals (the laissez fair lifestyle, 'less is more' attitude, and emphasis on sensuality) and closer to a cold, isolated existence. Here are a few notable items on the list ...

- Acceleration of the pace of life in general. We want things to happen faster than instantaneous, not just online, but everywhere.

- Dread of quiet. I feel this. Silence makes me nervous, perhaps because I am a child of the interwebs. I think this has a lot to do with the first point. Silence is stillness, stillness is slowness.

- Attitude of daily heroism. This one I find sort of halarious. I'm not sure what Marinetti means by this. To be sure, the internet grants us freedom in the possibility to manipulate our identities, greater agency over our life and activities, but he's talking about technology all across the board, including bikes and trains and stuff. He even refers to a telegraph - so I guess this was written before the days of ye ole' interwebs. I can't imagine how sending a telegraph would make you feel like a hero. (I guess theres something to be said for crossing something off a to do list though...and if that makes you feel like a hero, then more power to you).

- Multiplication of human desires. The idea that we can't simply be happy with what we have anymore scares me. I think theres an element of human nature present here in the fact that we are pretty much inherently envious creatures, and when we see Pam Beth and Sherry with sweet highlights, we instantly think of ourselves and how much we deserve that, too. In terms of technology, as more becomes available to us, the more we desire.

- Man multiplied by the machine. AVATARS ATTACK!

- Idea and love of the record. We've always had this, I think. Technology just helps. Bazin said that we are creatures who have a strange preoccupation with preserving things. He called this our mummy complex. Hence, our fascination with film and photography and its unparralled ability to capture a moment in time. We treasure these things, especially after those who they depict are gone.

- Disdain for 'amore'. Certainly, I think romance is being abandoned in this modern age ... its changing, at least. In terms of the internet, sex becomes the selling tactic, the lure, the point. It's the "cut to the chase" mentality. In the disdian for amore, Marinetti refers to the fact that women are granted more agency over their own lives with technology, and are exposed to a world of substitutes for love. He refers to the general "latest model" which I find sort of presumptious and superficial, and makes said women that Marinetti refers to sound materialistic and lame. (Again, I fail to see the relevance of the telegraph here.) Unless of couse said women are sending hateful telegraphs to ex lovers showing off how much more satisfied they are with the "latest model".

All these products of technology have generated our "pictorial dynamism, our antigraceful music in its free, irregular rhythms, our noise-art and our words-in-freedom." Marinetti makes a bunch of huge sweeping statements in his general "technology" he speaks of. I think the points above could apply to the use of the internet, but not necessarily a bicycle or something. A pencil can be considered technology, for crying out loud. I reckon a pencil won't cloy our humanly senses so entirely that we throw away any conception of amore.

While I'm at it, I think as long as there is Grimaldi's pizza, there will be amore. As long as there's chocolate, there will be amore. As long as there's Jon Cusack there will be romance. And I don't forsee him ever dying.

Besides, noise and words in freedom sound pretty cool to me and Marinetti sounds super old fashioned and frigid. His lament of this futuristic sensibility seems to me like a lament for how damn dreary he is.