Adam, Not the Atom

At this moment, I am connected to a Bluetooth keyboard typing on an iPhone 15 Pro connected to Wi-Fi 30k feet in the air and listening to Midwest emo losslessly streaming through noise cancelling headphones. 

Holy shit we live in a miraculous time. I have every knowable fact at my fingertips. I learned how to reverse park my car on YouTube, watched a full set of Drive Like Jehu in live in Corvallis, OR from 1992, and tracked down a limited to 275 screen print of American Psycho done in the style of Patrick Nagel. That was fucking yesterday. 

Every knowable fact is at our fingertips. Up to the moment news and information. Endless access to the most niche interests. The tiny screen in front of me is a portal to anywhere. It guarantees I’ll never be lost, points me to the nearest pinball machine when I’m traveling, and let’s me shitpost memes with one of my best friends in France.

Future now. 

Yet there is a generation of Luddites who want to demonize technology. Are we at the beginning of the reverse hockey stick part of technology? Yes. Do we have any idea what the world will look like in five years? No. Do we have to hear finance bros pontificate endlessly about the blockchain? Unfortunately. There are costs to doing business.

The blank slate in front of you is pregnant with your genius and your flaws. Flagged by your ISP for downloading a terabyte of feet pics? Can’t stop hate-scrolling your more successful artist friend? Up until 2AM doom-scrolling Tik Tok? The black mirror in your hands is only as cracked as you are.

What is horrifying about technology is what it reveals about us. What do you really value? The box is empty. It’s for you to fill with your dreams and nightmares. You can build or destroy. Serve or perve. Produce or reduce. It’s a bulldozer waiting for direction.   

This is what makes technology terrifying. It is us. Our desire to pacify, stave off, and nullify the relentless anxiety which pervades our everyday is immeasurable. 

The dopamine feeder bar no longer lurks in the seedy part of town, closing at midnight. It’s in your pocket, tugging on your coat like a kid begging you to play with it. It is a playfield multiplier for our nature.      

Hell, Adam and Eve got up to no good without even an Aux cord. No one thought to blame the apple, but now we sending Apple the bill. Our sin isn’t knowledge. It’s being heartbreakingly, profoundly, and perpetually wack.

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