What’s your job? No matter your answer, you are wrong. You’re a factory worker, we all are. Working on a production line, exactly as they did in the factories of Henry Ford and the thousands who followed.
Our screens are the conveyors. Conveyors which rob us of introspection, observance, and individuality. We have neither the time nor the means to express our own unique flavour because the next “thing” is already here – and now it is gone. We need to pay attention or we’ll miss it.
For all we tell ourselves about creativity, teamwork and innovation, there is nothing to be said. If you are removed tomorrow, the next factory worker just slides into place and the process continues. You would not be missed because the attention is elsewhere, it is on the conveyor.