Physical Media Matters!
Yes, digital media is convenient. Yes, it saves space. But that’s about it. There’s no genuine connection. You don’t study it, sit with it, or meditate on it. You just consume and then forget.
Sure, there are pros. Digitizing files is a gift to researchers. Old newspapers crumble, film deteriorates, and history gets lost. Imagine seeing some of the earliest films, an actor’s first role in a commercial, or letters from historical figures—manuscripts and notes that were never published, tucked away in attics and nearly forgotten. We’ve preserved a lot of history, but mostly by luck. People painted over paintings and erased and replaced words because they lacked extra paper.
Digital books and music make discovery easier. You stumble across a band with an awesome name—like Big Fat Chihuahuas Strung Out on Ranch Dressing—and you have to hear what they sound like. You don’t have to drop twenty bucks on an album and risk it sucking like a bathhouse party. Instantly, you can check it out.
Same with books. A title sounds intriguing, the synopsis pulls you in, but then you spend fifteen bucks on a paperback that reads like the back of a cereal box (but less interesting). Streaming services let you find movies you’d never see in the DVD section of Best Buy (back when it existed). And if the movie’s a dud? You’re just out the cost of your subscription. But you also find gems, so it evens out.
But here’s the catch. You don’t own it. Even if you paid for it. You can’t really interact with it. Things disappear—again, even if you paid for them. And if your device dies, or the service goes kablooey? You’re just shit out of luck.
Physical media is infinitely better. Nothing beats walking through a good used bookstore. Picking up books, leafing through them. The smell, the feel, of them. You interact with them, and when you buy it, it’s yours. You can mark it up, use it as a filing system, read it over and over, lend it to a friend, curl up on the couch with a soft light and just be with it.
Same with music. Flipping through albums, seeing the cover art, reading the liner notes. Physical media lives on a shelf. It is a tribute to your tastes, your personality, your self. You can take it down anytime. You see what you have. No scrolling, no clicking.
Movies? Physical copies often come with bonus content. You get commentaries, gag reels, deleted scenes, interviews, subtitles in multiple languages. You can slow-mo a horror scene and catch where the real becomes fake. Zoom in and see what’s on the shelves, or read the button a character’s wearing. You can skip ahead, rewind, fast-forward, and you can do it without the glitchy mess streaming gives you.
But really? You own it. It’s yours. You see it. You feel it. You love it. And it won’t vanish because of licensing deals or corporate whims. But with physical copies, with proper care, things survive. You hold the past in your hands. You study it, enjoy it, pass it along.
Digital is fine for convenience, but physical media is life. It’s yours. It lasts. So yeah, buy the book. Buy the album. Buy the movie. Keep it. Live with it. Let it be yours. It’s worth the space on your shelf.