Life is complicated. I suspect it always has been. Throughout human history, if you weren’t dealing with technologically-induced societal disruption, you were fighting class hierarchy, strict social oversight, ecological disaster, infectious disease, and apex predators. No one gets off easy. It’s just the way it is. Life is difficult, no matter how you slice it, and we’re always going to fill the time allotted doing what needs to be done, with the only finish line being our final demise. Still, it does seem like we’re living in an overcomplicated age where we are being constantly assaulted by so much more than our primitive brains have evolved to handle, so much more than is necessary or warranted.
Lately, I’ve hit a wall.
I was happy to go along for a time, even when I found myself late to the party. I would readily adopt the next round of technology, with only the slightest reluctance, purchasing the next gadget, immersing myself in yet another new ecosystem, right up until TikTok came out. I’m not saying I was on board for everything along the way, and I still don’t understand the attraction of Reddit, but TikTok was where I drew the line. It was such an obnoxious assault on the senses that I wanted no part of it and no longer cared if I got left behind by pop culture. Almost everything that’s come since, especially anything AI related, I’ve written off as not worthy of my time and attention. I’m all filled up.
It’s not just modern technology, but most of pop culture, including most forms of entertainment, that seem to vex and annoy me these days. There are some new musical artists I enjoy, but so many more that I truly don’t. Journalism is almost entirely broken, newspapers and magazines are dead, and television news hasn’t been worth a shit since Murrow was chain smoking darts in monochromatic fashion.
There’s just less and less of the digital dalliance that does anything for me. I’m down to reading books and writing stories, walking up and down my street, and working. These are the most archaic, analog things you can imagine. I don’t have any other hobbies, and no other forms of distraction, nor am I looking for any. I’m thinking maybe I can just ride this life out till they toss me in the furnace and make ash out of me. I don’t see any downside.
A lot of the pop culture stuff can be explained by my age. I’m closing in on 60 and that’s just not an age they target when making shiny new shit. I no longer care who is performing at the Super Bowl Halftime Show, who is hosting the Oscars, or who is even up for any of the awards. My only motivation to watch would be the “In Memoriam” segment, and that’s just sad. I just skip it.
The straw that broke the proverbial camel’s back has been Artificial Intelligence. Combined with the Trump administration and all the subhuman idiots who supports it, we have to be living in the worst age in human history, although I hear medieval England was pretty awful. Even then, everyone knew what to expect, whereas now, no one has any idea what’s going to happen, and there’s little to suggest we all end up in a magical after life.
I try to keep up with what is going on in the culture, but I’m increasingly put off by what I read and hear. I have no interest in that movie or television show. I’m sick of the expense of streaming platforms that offer thousands of things I don’t wish to watch. I’m slightly more open to new music, as long as I don’t actually pay any attention to the manufactured identity of the artist. I can’t take the personas and stage names, so eager to be seen as special and unique.
In the previous century, most artists went by their given birth name. Jackson Pollack, Audrey Hepburn, Earnest Hemingway, Frank Sinatra, Harper Lee, Steve Martin, and the like. There were plenty of celebrities who changed their names to sound more fabulous, but they went from normal names like Norma Jeane Mortenson to that of Marilyn Monroe, not Charlotte Aitchison to Charli XCX, or Shawn Carter to Jay-Z.
Today’s artists often sound more like a strong password than a human entertainer. My favorite is when they just start adding punctuation into their name, or better yet, a dollar sign. Soon, it’s just going to be an incomprehensible string of random letters, using both upper and lower case, but will be pronounced Kennebunkport OG.
I never wanted to be ordinary, never really wanted to fit in or be part of the popular crowd. Well, almost never, or at least not that I can recall now. I’m sure there were times, especially when I was young, when I desperately wanted to fit in, but I don’t remember ever agonizing over it. Everyone wants to be popular and well-liked, at least to some degree, and no one wants to be ridiculed or ostracized. Most people just want to get by.
We want to be successful in life, or at least seen as such. For me, more than wanting to fit in, I wanted to stand out. I’m still not entirely sure why. Ego is certainly a significant part of it, but it’s more than that. I believe I was born with certain talents and feel a sense of purpose and duty to use them to the best of my abilities. Otherwise, it feels like a waste of spirit and a failure of imagination. Unfortunately, my desire for immortality seems less and less likely with every passing year, so I’m beginning to rethink how I spend my days in the remaining time I have left, and little of it involves racing the other rats around the track.
I’m not one of those people who desire to go back to doing things the old fashioned way. I’m not going to start using a typewriter, develop and print my own film, or start churning butter any time soon. There is a lot to like about the digital world and I have no interest in shitty grunt work, but a little tech goes a long way and we don’t have to indulge every new bit of wizardry they throw at us just because someone had a bright idea. We can choose the things we care about and ignore the rest.
One of the common refrains one hears when discussing your rejection of all things AI, is that you are going to be left behind on the road to greatness. I accept this, but not for the reasoning the Tech Bros are using. I have no interest in going where they’re going. I have no interest in the future they’re trying to create. I will happily stay behind while they go hurtling off a cliff with their hair on fire. I don’t need to keep up with an effort to self destruct. Thank God I’ve had a choice in the matter, so far. Not everyone does.
I’m only 58, which is old by young people’s standards and young by old people’s. It’s why they call it middle aged. You’re no longer young, but not really quite old. You’re not new, but in the immortal words of Monty Python, you’re not dead yet. In fact, you feel happy and you’re thinking of going for a walk.
The point is, if I’m relatively lucky and don’t suddenly die of some awful disease or get hit by a bus, I have quite a lot of time to do a great number of things. We waste so much time, and fall prey to this idea that we must be productive in order to be fulfilled. It’s all nonsense, of course, and has nothing to do with sucking the marrow from life. I don’t need productivity apps, transcendental meditation, yoga, CrossFit, or bean sprouts.
I did, on the other hand, buy a new sketchbook, broke out my old pencils, and began sketching again. I have this little backpack, something I bought for my wife years ago, when she was hiking more. I’m thinking of spending some time this fall, walking in the woods a few times a week, bringing my sketchbook, and sitting and sketching for a bit when I’m finished walking. I hoping to treat it like the point of my day, and then filling in with work, rather than the other way around. I am, therefore I draw, paint, write, and sing. I don’t have to do any of it well. I just have to do it.
Small pleasures. Simple goals.