The panic is palpable these days, like an electric mist we all amble through. We are in desperate need to feel important. It seems that the "me" generation has evolved into the "I" generation because that shit is capitalized now, in a gaudy, bold font. The "me" generation was selfish, sure, but this new gathering of subhumans is oblivious to all other activity around them. Barely literate administrative assistants busy themselves with high end smartphones. To what end? Ostensibly to increase productivity, to become ever-present in the workplace. To become important.
You're not important.
Despite the speed with which information is bandied about, real decisions aren't made any faster. In fact, real decisions aren't really made anymore. Ever. The idea, I suppose, was to have this instantaneous exchange of information so that everyone could weigh in and a decision could be made. It doesn't really work that way, unfortunately. Along with the increase of connectivity, of hands in the pot, the idea of individual importance skyrocketed. And with increase self-importance comes increased liability. Everybody wants to be heard, but no one wants to be the one who pulls the trigger. The important people counteract their own importance. It's actually quite beautiful.
However illusory self-worth is these days, it's crucial that it remains intact. Can you imagine everyone realizing all at once that they don't mean a fucking thing? That is, of course, unless you're in an actual job producing goods and products. Those occupations actually mean something to the economy. We want potatoes, and you grow them. The shithead on his Blackberry scrolling through email about said potatoes is not needed. He thinks he's making an executive decision about the potatoes, but in order to do so, he has to run it by a best practices unit and then an audit committee. They, of course, support the idea of purchasing potatoes, but they have to hold off to see what the brainstorming session yields. This "process" spirals and fizzles out and no concrete decision is ever made. And the potatoes rot in the field.
This isn't funny. We don't make anything in this country anymore. And if we don't make anything here, what can these Blackberrying fuckfaces POSSIBLY be emailing each other about?
Isn't Twitter the ultimate in this sort of behavior? I suppose email and IMing weren't enough. Now there's a whole website devoted to keeping people posted on every second of your fucking life. And the amazing thing is that you really have to opt in to it. I don't know what's more baffling, the fact that you can get updates about the shapes of your friends' turds, or that there's part of you that really wants to know.
And why bother hanging out anymore?
"I went to Comic Con!"
"I know, I read it on Twitter."
"And I met the Pope!"
"Could you keep it down? I'm trying to get your updates about the conversation we're having right now."
"Ok. How's this? Me @ You: You're a cunt."