My name is humanity,
and I have a problem.
For full effect, download "This Place Is A Prison" by The Postal Service and play at maximum volume throughout the duration of this post.
For the record, this will be a two-part blog about the dumbing down of today's society, the shallowness of our relationships, and the issues we face because of an influx of digital technology, social media, and just flat out laziness. #extremefirstworldproblems #thesystemisdown #grandpaisashamed.
A few weeks ago a very lovely girl and great friend of mine who shall remain anonymous for sake of respect made a vow she would trade in her iPhone. She would give up all the apps, all the Instagram photos, all the Flappy Bird high scores, she would trade all of those in for a $10 flip phone she bought at Target. A rather daunting task, I know. But do you want to take a guess at how long she lasted?
Less than 12 hours.
I don't tell you this to demolish the character of a rather amazing girl, because honestly she is one of the best people I know, and a person who Chuck Norris would more than likely respect. I tell you this to prove that no matter how remarkable anyone of us may be; we are all bound by the electronic shackles that have been placed upon us. We, as a society, are all addicts.
That's a fair statement to make, is it not? Can I safely say that every one of us has an addiction? I know that sounds rather harsh, but isn't it the truth? Think about it, every single day we check our Facebook feeds and laugh at the .gif our friend posted mocking peoples underwear choice in Wal-Mart, we pin the updated chicken pillow with cashews recipe to our public boards, we have a smorgasbord of shallow dialogue using only our thumbs with faces we are not even looking at, we are bound by the digital devices we recharge every single night.
Why is this?
Why must we pay more attention to the most upvoted post on Reddit than to our little sister who wants to go get Swig on a Thursday afternoon? Why do we care more about Instagramming a spectacular picture of a sunset on a Saturday night than we do about taking a few seconds to witness the creator working his magic on Earth’s canvas itself? Why do we think the devices we hold in our hands are more important than face-to-face conversations with long lost high school friends, friends who meant something to us before we were bombarded with the outbreak of this digital disease?
I don't know. I really don't know. And the fact that I'm detached from a Sunday school lesson this very second typing this blog is a fine example. I have not disconnected. I, just like you, am an addict.
We have a problem my friends, a big one that gets swept under the rug and lost in the commotion of Twitter feeds and Foursquare check-ins. A problem that has yet to be diagnosed, or confronted, or attacked, a problem that a 600-word blogpost is not going to solve by any means. We have become a legion of drones whose lives are not defined by the quality of our interpersonal relationships; rather, rated by the number of followers we have online. We need to be better people. We need to wake ourselves up. We need to confront our addictions.
My name is Brock,
and I have a problem.
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