Well, I live in the U.K. in 2017 and I'm like every woman in this country who flips through supplements and magazines - I'm bombarded with pictures of so-called perfection.
I love my family, I love my relatives. One special request I have is for the media back in Taiwan to kind of give them their space because they can't even go to work without being bombarded and people following them.
We are truly bombarded by images. To break through and be observed, let alone focused on, you have to have impact and power.
That is, we are bombarded by all kinds of images and influences and we have to fend some of them off if we're to take in any of them, or to carry through just our ordinary day's work, or really deepen whatever we have to do or say.
When I was a kid, phone calls were a premium commodity; only the very coolest kids had a phone line of their own, and long-distance phone calls were made after eleven, when the rates went down, unless you were flamboyant with your spending. Then phone calls became as cheap as dirt and as constant as rain, and I was on the phone all the time.
Every day, I absorb countless data bits through emails, phone calls, and articles; process the data; and transmit back new bits through more emails, phone calls, and articles. I don't really know where I fit into the great scheme of things and how my bits of data connect with the bits produced by billions of other humans and computers.
From pink water bottles for breast cancer to dumping a bucket of ice water on your head for neuromuscular conditions, it seems we're bombarded by requests to be 'aware' of one thing or another.
I bought a place in Milan, but Missoni headquarters are out in the country, in Sumirago. My whole family eats out of the same vegetable garden; my mother raises chickens. I love the city, but if you're always bombarded with stimulation, you get numb to it. I need to get bored to create.
It honestly affects my mental health, social media, on a really profound level. Because I'm constantly being bombarded with an image of femininity that I feel I have to adhere to. And I think there's a lot of pressure in this industry, as well, being constantly discriminated on your aesthetic appearance.
We're all bombarded with so many dietary messages that it's hard to find time to sort through all this information, but we do have time to take a look at our kids' plates.
Even if that is so, there will remain A word wakened by lips that perish, A tireless messenger who runs and runs Through interstellar fields, through the revolving galaxies, And calls out, protests, screams.
I think what people are really crying out for is simple information they can trust when they're bombarded by attack ads, fundraising pitchers and all sort of comment and opinion all over the place increasingly.
How irritating it must be for people, to be bombarded with me!
It remained for the twentieth century to discover that locked within the atom is the energy of the sun itself. For this energy to be released, however, the atom must be bombarded from without. So too, locked in every human being is a store of love that partakes of the divine-the imago dei-image of God, it is sometimes called. And it too can be activated only through bombardment, in its case love's bombardment
Phones with numerical keypads worked best for dialing phone calls. Incidentally, phone calls tend to be the primary function of a phone. 'Smartphones' completely ignore these basic facts, resulting in some of the least intelligent devices I've seen yet. Oh the irony.
In the garden of gentle sanity,
May you be bombarded by coconuts of wakefulness.