As we become more advanced, are we loving the sound of our inventive voice too much? Is our genius making us stupid?
It’s 2016. And while we don’t have the technology that was promised to us through movies and television (see: hoverboard, flying suitcase car, mouthy robotic maid), we’re still doing pretty good on the invention front, right?
The answer is a “yeah,” followed by the suffix of “nah,” proceeded by a tilt of the head, lips De Niro-ed, and shoulders extended in “maybe.”
Hard to say.
We do live in enlightened times, riding the ever-sharpening edge of growing technology, but have we gone insane marveling at our own brilliance? Are we much like the humble hipster who has learned the Vance Joy back catalog and thusly lashes it out at every house party just to prove that he can, and lady, running down to the riptide, he will? Or are we living out the fictional lessons of King Midas? That fat autocrat who believed all he created would move in the Chrimbo sales due to its obvious value?
In the same week that some towering eggheads somehow managed to turn salt water into drinkable water, I also discovered that some ’Murican collegiates can fly recreational drones with their minds. Both separately amazing. The water, absolutely crucial. The mind drone, absolute shite. What is it’s purpose? So that neighborhood voyeurs can go hands free?
That’s not the droid we’re looking for.
Are we so smart that we’re becoming stupid? And I don’t mean Forrest Gump meritorious stupid, we’ve gone full-on nitwit. And that you must never do. While Gump knew what love was, we don’t know what sense is.
I ask you, fair generational citizens, when whichever tentacled aliens wipe us out to mine our carbon, when they gaze upon the remnants of our civilization with their thousand gasoline eyes, will their peepers leak goop out of respect? Or castigation? When they struggle to grasp the concept, meaning, or indeed the value of the KFC flavored fingernail polish, does that mean we’ve lived up to expectations?
Would we be viewed as the Romans? Or, well, I don’t know who, because history remembers not the fools. Except for that guy with the violin, but he was crazy, not foolish.
There be the difference.
It’d be foolish to limit our imagination and thusly the reach of technology, but it’d be foolish to squander our brilliance on those who can’t ferry themselves to eat chicken in the traditional sense, so once must lick one’s fingernails instead. If that’s who we’re aiming toward, why don’t we just grow chicken off our knuckles?
Now that’d be crazy.