Ah, the 21st century, the golden age of “connection.” We can order Thai food at 2 a.m., binge an entire season of television in a single sitting, and argue with strangers on the internet about sandwiches. Truly, civilization has peaked.
And yet, for all this technology, for all this “innovation,” we’ve never been more alone. It’s like living in a giant house party where everyone is shouting through megaphones but nobody is actually listening.
Automation Nation: Efficiency That Inefficiently Wastes Your Soul
Technology was supposed to save us time. Instead, it just filled every saved second with more nonsense. We don’t talk to people; we “submit tickets.” We don’t ask coworkers for help; we ping them in Slack and then watch the typing bubble pulse for three hours like a digital hostage negotiation.
Looking for a job? Forget shaking hands, shake hands with the void. You’ll upload your résumé, then be forced to type it all in again, then record a video interview where you answer questions from a chatbot that looks like it just escaped a failed Pixar movie. Don’t worry, though: you’ll be automatically rejected before you finish your coffee. Efficiency!
Ghosting as a Service
Remember when rejection came with closure? A letter. A phone call. A no. Quaint, isn’t it? Now rejection is just silence. Corporate silence. Personal silence. Entire friendships now end with nothing but an unanswered text and a passive-aggressive Instagram story.
Ghosting isn’t the exception, it’s the default. We’ve industrialized it. “Ghosting as a Service” should be the next Silicon Valley unicorn: Sign up today, and we’ll professionally ignore your loved ones for you.
Social Media: The World’s Largest Carnival Funhouse
Let’s talk “community.” Because nothing says “community” like doomscrolling at 1 a.m. while your algorithm spoon-feeds you videos of cats playing keyboards and strangers with suspiciously white teeth telling you how to be happy.
Social platforms aren’t communities, they’re casinos. Flashing lights, no windows, carefully calibrated to keep you pulling the lever for just one more dopamine coin. Your “friends” are data points. Your memories are ad copy. That birthday post you just liked? That wasn’t friendship, it was brand engagement.
Gadgets of the Absurd
We have smart speakers, smart TVs, smart refrigerators,all conspiring to prove we’re the dumbest things in the room. Your fridge knows when your milk goes bad, but your friends still don’t know when you’re having a breakdown. Your watch measures your heart rate during stress, but it can’t stop your boss from emailing you at 10 p.m.
And here’s the kicker: we trust these machines more than we trust each other. A stranger on Reddit has more influence over your medical decisions than your doctor. Siri has heard more of your secrets than your spouse. Alexa has probably earned more loyalty than your best friend.
The Punchline Nobody Asked For
Technology promised connection, but what it really gave us is a parody of connection. We “like” instead of love, we “comment” instead of converse, we “connect” on LinkedIn like Pokémon trading cards. Humanity has been reduced to status updates and push notifications.
It’s absurd, it’s hilarious, and it’s terrifying all at once. A tragicomedy where the clowns juggle smartphones instead of bowling pins.
The Closing Joke (That Isn’t a Joke)
Here’s the truth: people still crave realness. They crave eye contact, belly laughs, awkward silences, and actual presence. But until we get tired of this digital circus, we’ll keep pretending that emojis are emotions and “followers” are friends.
So grab your smart device, take a deep breath, and remember: the system doesn’t hate you. It just doesn’t notice you exist.
