You could say our addiction to convenience and comfort has been successfully repackaged as the highest end for our brilliant technological means.
Or, you could say that we’re in the grip of a nationwide plague. Of…A.D.D.
Or, you could say we’re simply a country of poorly developed adult minds with the collective attention span of squirrels during mating season.
Or, you could look up, my fellow fool – if you can tear yourself away from the sacred screen.
You’ll see discontented Americans waddling morosely to their cars, wondering why having more of everything hasn’t yet made them happier about anything.
No one smiles at me on the street, anymore. Yeah, that bond has been broken. We can’t look each other in the eye.
Because we’re all face-down in our palms, making marvelous use of the opposable thumbs God gave us and our fellow monkeys. They’re digging for grubs. We’re digging . . . → Read More: Poem: What’s in There?