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The Little Culture Deaths

An old man excused himself to ask me for directions. I can’t remember the last time that happened. Not in the car nor on the sidewalk. Everyone’s got their snarkphone GPS to tell them where they’re going.

We the people are atomizing, socially and neurally. Our gadgets make us stupid and solitary. We are losing those common social graces and facial cues and verbal tones that have helped us for millennia navigate complex social arrangements and the demands of civilization. The rotten fruit of this devolution to a human-paramecium hybrid is all around us if we’re willing to see it with open eyes and de-politicized egos. For the latest example of it, see #MeToo. Men and women have stopped knowing how to deal with each other, preferring instead snarkphone listicles that make fun of people who still cling to their antiquated notions of sex differences.

The little culture deaths will add up until nothing is left but for the barbarian hordes to storm our unwalled fortress of mass solitude and put the decomposing, fap-wearied body of our nation to rest.


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