Tag Archives: technology

Lots of Rabbits, Lots of Holes

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As another year arrives on our doorstep, it’s time to predict the size and shape of the upcoming ride. Many like to entertain the possibilities of fresh starts, clean slates, or open roads. Others mark falling calendar pages as nothing more than the routine business of spinning clock hands. I sit somewhere outside both of those conceptualizations.

When daily existence is locked on a curve, turning endlessly around a fixed circle, it’s impossible to see what’s ahead. The looping, habitual mundanity of making only left turns doesn’t offer the freedom to target the horizon or look beyond the here and now. One foot in front of the other. Spin. Spin. Spin. Repeat.

But I am supremely grateful that the alignment of contemporary society and its increasingly isolated construction followed the trajectory of my unbalanced concoction of brain chemicals. The opposite would have been a living nightmare, and I can’t imagine what those who deeply crave human interaction and attachment are feeling right now.

When I was the happy-go-lucky party guy—ready for adventures and experiences, thrilled to be part of a bonded collective, and watched the world through optimistic eyes—the only way to achieve connection was through proximity and physical touch. Screens didn’t steal eye contact. Plans weren’t canceled or postponed with a last-minute text. We all seemed to stand on similar pages. Now we’re simply hidden away in covert caves, writing separate stories.

So, is this merely a chicken or egg scenario? Does the perpetual retreat of mankind into solitary silos cause our chemicals to shift at a biological level, or do we just adapt to whatever technological environment is presented to us? It’s a question that may not get answered until a few more generations have run the gauntlet.

But one thing is certain: If I still had the neurobiological makeup and sociable motor of my “former self” and was forced to navigate this modern minefield of dwindling attention spans, evasive maneuvering, and social media manipulation, I would have lost my mind even earlier.

Good luck to us all as we continue to jump, dodge, bob, and weave.

We’re going to need it.

Adolescence Interrupted

Keep It Real

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As we hurtle toward an uncertain future, soaked in deepfakes, cheap fakes, AI trickery, and all the modern technological manipulation you can eat, I wonder if there will be a renewed thirst for some sense of grounded authenticity.

If we are inundated with artificiality at every turn, will we grow weary of having to constantly decipher fact from fiction? Always wondering if someone was real or created. Never being entirely sure about who or what to trust. The tedium of that task would be torturous.

A grand puppeteer pulling the strings of the global perception of reality, making merry mischief with his marionette. 

It’s the stuff of sci-fi nightmares…and yet it is already so much closer and worse than we’d like to admit. 

The sad truth is that once the general public is first made aware of anything, that invention, innovation, or discovery is generally pretty far down the path. So any sense that AI is a “new” thing is somewhat laughable. If we know even basic, surface details about something, its development is already light years ahead of any bare-bones prototype currently making the beta rounds.

Once that horse has left the barn, it’s not circling back for another round of currying.

So, do we desperately try to pump the brakes on the inevitable digital transformation, or do we collectively decide that stripping everything down to its essential qualities and reclaiming the concept of humanity will yield a healthier and more manageable harvest?

It may not even be a choice we have much longer to make. But there is always strength in numbers…and the will of the group is a tough will to break.

Adolescence Interrupted

Strangers in a Strange Land

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The rules have been rewritten. The destination is hazy. The compass is hiding.

We are a people lost in the desert, on a search for solutions, seeking the meaning behind the motivation. But separation sits at the heart of the aimlessness, and a world that promised constant connection has failed to deliver.

With eyeballs perpetually fixed on blue light screens, we have chosen the velvety warm hug of cushioned insulation over the highly unpredictable and uncontrollable task of thorny socialization.

Even the most gregarious of today’s butterflies couldn’t come close to flapping wings with any of the prior pre-phone/pre-internet generations. Technology was supposed to shrink the isolation gap. Instead, it only widened the chasm. We falsely believe we’re all inseparable, but we couldn’t be more distant.

Rates of depression are skyrocketing, and a youth culture subjected to a daily barrage of hurtful slander and forced comparison is rotting our self-esteem at its core. Humans are bonding with machines and filling days, weeks, and months with passive entertainment. Get up and go simply sat down and stopped.

Apathy, avoidance, disengagement, laziness, rapidly deteriorating health, hopelessness, and general malaise can all be traced to a simple, obvious starting line. When we collectively plugged in, we all tuned out.

Looks like Timothy Leary was Nostradamus.

Adolescence Interrupted

The Nerds Are Driving the Bus

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In recent years, a troubling trend has been developing that feels worthy of exploration. With the exponential rise in the rate of computer development, we are given the opportunity for some groundbreaking advancements in medicine, science, communication, learning, etc. But those presents often come with a caveat and the tradeoff may not be worth the sticker price.

The leading “tech gurus” seem to share a similar, disconcerting vision of our future, and it requires bending the planet to the whims of the insulated and isolated. Society is being influenced by and molded to the preferences and impulses of introverts unable to express themselves or make human connections in the real world. So the creation of alternate, virtual realities to hide those inadequacies behind cartoonish avatars or absolute anonymity feels like a warm safety blanket of protection. They can cower beneath a cloak of invisibility, never forced to reveal their authentic selves.  

Innovation directed toward helping hermits spend more and more time detached from reality to compensate for a total lack of social skills should not be the ultimate goal for humanity. If anything, we should be looking for ways to walk away from our desks, engage with our environment, and embrace the living, breathing ecosystem…while the air still passes as tolerable.

As someone who regularly stares at a screen, processing hundreds of pages of text every day, I see technology’s value as a powerful learning tool. But I also recognize the perilous nature of its quicksand construction. Our mental health and physical well-being are suffering under the crippling weight of split-second attention spans and an incessant pull to constantly redirect focus.

We’re spinning in place and dizzy from the effort.

Finding a balance between the body and the machine before the electronic puppeteer pulls the last remaining strings should be the primary objective.

Adolescence Interrupted

Everything New Is Old Again

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Novelty is a nasty little trick. Senses excited by the freshness and originality of the unknown, untested, or unused soon face the harsh reality that anything shiny will ultimately lose its sheen.

This goes well beyond the new coat, car, college, or company. Brainwashed from year one by an onslaught of marketing ploys to convince us we are never fully whole, we crave the latest, most advanced modern marvel promising to ease our pain, simplify our lives, and save us time.

Leave the heavy lifting to automation, so we can stockpile precious seconds to spend on screens and devices built by the same companies promising (and selling) the fantasy of tangible untethering.

With each day that passes, the new becomes old, and the old is discarded. A cycle of inattention, lack of focus, and rampant consumerism has become a cyclone, and it’s destroying everything in its path.

A counterargument proposes the merits of our impressive adaptability. We are a dynamic species, exhibiting a high proficiency for transformation and reconstruction. Ready to spring back to standing after every takedown, humans tend to face a fight or challenge without allowing buckled knees to shake us into a sense of inaction.  We simply find ways to justify the new normal.

Shoes are off at the airport. Masks are on in the stores.

But the belief that tomorrow will present some gift that today is unable to wrap creates a dangerous habit of sacrificing the now for the then.

There isn’t always something waiting around the next corner. Sometimes it’s just an empty sidewalk.

Adolescence Interrupted

Take Two

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clapperboard1 2For more than a year, I have been burdened with the weight of lost opportunities, disappearing days, and a sense that I have made some very wrong turns on the road of life. I started to become acquainted with the lack of passion and the repetition of carbon copy weeks, but the last few months have brought some more pronounced realizations into focus.

I am not the person I wanted to be, the adult I envisioned, or the man fulfilling the dreams of my youth. I am merely existing, walking a line of straight, colorless paths with no discernible destination.

There is a buzz in my brain like the frequency of a guitar amp someone left humming in the corner of the room. That white noise has been there for years, but the murmur used to be a higher pitch, and it would fluctuate when life threw a curveball or offered a piece of good news. Now, it’s more of a drone,  whirring without variation in volume or tone. A flatline.

Luckily, I don’t get depressed, or this situation could get sticky. But, the fact that the current state of affairs is offering little in the way of options or progress is certainly a concern.

I am no longer a wily, wide-eyed teen with a long list of life’s adventures waiting to be checked. But I’m also not a twenty-something with ample time to make mistakes on the way to self-discovery. The blisters on my feet from spinning in circles on the road less traveled are starting to bleed through the socks.

Current technology doesn’t allow us to roll back the clock for another chance to do it right. I used to think that every situation and experience are specifically put on our plates to teach us lessons and make us who we are today. But, I have started wishing for another shot at living life the right way.

Like an adult do-over, I’ve been thinking about clean slates and going back to the starting line. I don’t mean this in a “if I knew then what I know now” kind of way. I’m talking about a true reboot. I want to begin the whole process again, without squandering my talent, wasting my time, and getting in my own way.

Reincarnation is probably my only viable shot at this plan, so I suppose I just have to cross my fingers and wait for round two.

I’m reminded of this quote from one of my favorite films, “Rounders,” and it hits home now more than ever:

“You don’t hear much about guys who take their shot and miss, but I’ll tell you what happens to ’em. They end up humping crappy jobs on graveyard shifts, trying to figure out how they came up short.”

Luckily, I’m not punching the graveyard card clock just yet, but I can certainly identify with the sentiment.

The future is not entirely bleak, and I’m taking the steps necessary to generate momentum. But, hitting a giant reset button doesn’t feel like the worst idea.

I suppose I’m stuck in this skin until it wrinkles and sags, so I may as well make the most of it.

Puppet Shows for All the People

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photo (2)Is life an illusion?

Now, I’m not asking this in a Matrix-y, alien-controlled consciousness kind of way. But, the more I step back to observe modern society and the dance we all do for each other, the more I see the green screen.

There’s an inherent irony in the fact that we crave reality and authenticity, but seem to do everything in our power to present ourselves in a wholly contrived and artificial light. This goes beyond stiffly posed selfies and the artifice of our various social networks. There are examples everywhere.

I spend a lot of time on sets, so I get to see the wizard behind the curtain on a regular basis. Still, each time I watch an actor or product in extreme closeup, only to see an army of disinterested crew members sleepily checking their phones or watching the clock, it’s hard to invest in the emotional stock of an actress with tears streaming down her face.

It’s all about framing, but I suppose we crave this type of art forgery because we keep buying. Audiences at live tapings coaxed to holler and scream at the most mundane jokes, the epilepsy-inducing graphics at sporting events, or “reality” shows cut and edited to the point of absurdity have all become so commonplace that any version of something substantial is merely a filtered illusion.

We are hyper engaged and video crazed, and real life moves way too slowly. Instant gratification at breakneck broadband speeds and temporary comprehension are the trends of the day.

Now, I admit I’m the first to jump on a technological bandwagon, but this is only the roller coaster climb. We’re not slowing down and we’re not asking for a return to accuracy or purity. We hunger for the fireworks and we like to believe people can be superheroes. But if the gimmicks get us through the day, who am I to argue? Life is tough enough.

I guess it’s time to go live vicariously through more of the French Open.

Giving Doubt and Taking Back the Benefit

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phoneThe regular ridicule I’ve gotten in my life for keeping records, taking notes, and tracking telephone interactions is all just extra paint on the big colorful canvas I call an organized existence. Jab me about my checklists and poke fun about my calendars, but the self-satisfaction I’ve gotten the last few months from flawless follow-ups to customer service representatives makes all that fun-making fade into the distance.

It’s easy to call it compulsive. Marking down the dates a letter is received or when an initial phone call is placed might seem excessive or unnecessary. But, it’s pretty effortless and it saves a mountain of frustration in the end.

My “key theory” falls into the same category. How often do people run around the house at the last minute, searching for their elusive keys, with each tick of the clock exacerbating their tardiness? If they were kept in a designated key area, there would be no reason to alert the bloodhounds to join you in the hunt or create false scenarios about bad traffic and road closures when you walk past disapproving scowls, stumbling into the morning meeting 20 minutes after donut distribution.

Preparation and order rewards those who allow them in their lives. To be reliable and informed—as opposed to a scatterbrained flake—is something to be praised, not punished.

So, back to my telephone tag/faulty case number/taciturn supervisor juggling routine. The universe happened to unload multiple situations requiring boundless patience for bottomless hold times and the kind of diligent record-keeping rarely seen outside of IRS offices. If I were Johnny Casual, I would take those people at their word, thank them for all their helpful information, and wait for those guaranteed returned phone calls and speedy case resolutions.

But, we live in a world where almost no one does what they’re supposed to do—or even makes an attempt at punctuality. These are simply the realities of our modern society, as we make the sluggish transition from humans to computers. We are wrought with growing pains and this spreading plague of unrestrained apathy isn’t making things any easier. I can’t even begin to talk about the post office. I don’t have the strength.

The best we can do is take a stand. We can strive to be as efficient and organized as a machine, thus elevating ourselves above the sluggish drones and into a space where the air is fresh and the flickering fluorescent lights aren’t melting our brains.

But, I have to admit, rattling off the names of each supervisor, the dates I called, each digit of my assigned case numbers, and the particulars of the discussions not only ironed the wrinkles of what should have been unbearable transactions, it felt damn good.

You can retain your unintelligible reminders, unwieldy paper trails, and shoebox receipt shenanigans. I’ll be here with my alphabetized file folders and a bold, almost laughable level of record-keeping confidence.

The Beauty of Authenticity

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MASKMost of us walk through the world craving truth and validity, wearing masks to hide our intentions and insecurities. We post pictures capturing flashes of how we’d like to be perceived, and delete anything that might prove contradictory. We manufacture images built from aspirational notions, and hope no one notices the holes in our Swiss cheese.

It’s a high-wire routine, and many times we’re left swaying on a safety net—feeling anything but safe—and wondering how we fell. But, what if we removed the mirage and abandoned the ruse? What if we stopped filtering our words and screening our thoughts?

The consequences would be disastrous, right? How would we manipulate one another, gaining what we want by leaving a trail of unsuspecting victims in our path? How else could we construct perfect alibis and hide honest opinions inside of false compliments?

I’m not claiming this transition would succeed without bruises, and I don’t know if it’s even feasible in a technologically translucent society. But, beating the bedrock to expose a fallacious foundation may not be the worst use of our united efforts.

Games are fun, and they serve their purpose at birthday parties, baby showers, and wine-guzzling get-togethers. But, an existence safeguarding every word and action is a life spent toiling against the grain. Leave the fantasy on stage, and say what’s in your heart. It’s a dose of fresh air in a crammed elevator, and it feels fantastic.

Old habits die hard, but allowing even a modicum of legitimacy to creep into your vocalized notions will give the those tiny roots permission to sprout. Before long, we’ll all be standing atop a tree of transparency…or not.