T.S. Eliot on How to Navigate Life on the Internet

The poet's understanding of the Internet's perils was ahead of its time.

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Time is a flat circle. At least, that's what it feels like when you revisit T.S. Eliot's "The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock," and realize that, despite being written nearly 100 years ago, every stanza applies to your (mostly tech-driven, one-note) existence right now. Especially if, like myself, your life is a perpetual pivot between one social media platform to the next.

Eliot may not have contended with Tinder, but he instinctively understood the hyper-specific struggle of existing on the Internet. In truth, the difficulty of making meaningful connections with other humans is a tale as old as time. The Internet didn't create this conundrum; it only gave us a new medium for abjectly failing at it. 

Here are 13 Internet-specific issues the gifted poet understood without ever having experienced them. It's National Poetry Month—get off the fucking Internet and read some poetry IRL. Trust me, your soul needs sustenance another list (not even this one) can provide.

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On the inability to keep up with Internet slang:

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On the inability to keep up with Internet slang:

“For last year's words belong to last year's language
And next year's words await another voice.”

Little Gidding

On mass-texting "r u up?" late night:

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On mass-texting "r u up?" late night: 

“My nerves are bad to-night. Yes, bad. Stay with me.
'Speak to me. Why do you never speak? Speak.
'What are you thinking of? What thinking? What?
'I never know what you are thinking. Think.”

The Waste Land

On the sexy women on Tinder who will never swipe right for you:

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On all the PYTs on Tinder who will never swipe right for you:

“I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each.
I do not think that they will sing to me.”

The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock

On the decided boldness of drunk tweets:

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On the decided boldness of drunk tweets:

“The awful daring of a moment's surrender which an age of prudence
can never retract.
By this, and only this, we have existed.”

The Waste Land

On feeling futile in the face of Facebook's privacy policy:

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On feeling futile in the face of Facebook’s privacy policy: 

"If you haven’t the strength to impose your own terms upon life, then you must accept the terms it offers you.” —T.S. Eliot

On how social media only makes you feel more lonely and alienated from other humans:

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On how social media only makes you more lonely and alienated from other humans:

"What is hell? Hell is oneself.
Hell is alone, the other figures in it
Merely projections. There is nothing to escape from
And nothing to escape to. One is always alone.”

The Cocktail Party

On only sharing positive thoughts and experiences on social media:

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On only sharing positive thoughts and experiences on social media:

“Humankind cannot bear very much reality.” ―Four Quartets

On how the Internet remembers all of our mistakes:

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On how the Internet remembers all of our mistakes:

“Time present and time past
Are both perhaps present in time future
And time future contained in time past
If all time is eternally present
All time is unredeemable.”

The Four Quartets

On the ill-effect the Internet has on our attentions spans:

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On the ill-effect the Internet has on our attentions spans:

“Distracted from distraction by distraction.” ―Four Quartets

On the inevitable rise of men's style blog:

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On the inevitable rise of men’s style blog:

"I grow old … I grow old …                                           
I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled."

The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock

On the self-inflicted angst that occurs when stalking your ex on Facebook:

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On the self-inflicted angst that occurs when stalking your ex on Facebook:

“So I find words I never thought to speak
In streets I never thought I should revisit
When I left my body on a distant shore.”

Little Gidding

On sending flagrant inflammatory tweets you instantly regret:

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On sending flagrant, inflammatory tweets you instantly regret:

"Do I dare
Disturb the universe?
In a minute there is time
For decisions and revisions which a minute will reverse."

The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock

On our inclination towards only reading articles with GIFs:

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On our inclination towards only reading articles with GIFs:

“For you know only a heap of broken images.” —The Wasteland

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