Frankenstein’s Monster: The Evolution of Tinker-Toy to Godhead

Allow me to say what should not be said. The fiber in the lining, you’re never supposed to see. Let me peel back the skin so you feast your eyes on the sinew. I want to show you your bones. The untouchables you dare not expose, even in the mirror.

They don’t really care

never did

the way the world has been swallowed so completely by the techno-bubble, brought to the mast of that great schooner with no captain, dangled overboard for the sharks. No one is at the wheel anymore, kiddies. The gig is us. It’s post-apocalypse now. It’s every man for himself, every woman for herself, and no child left behind. What was the apocalypse then, if we missed it?

It’s not something one can put into words very well, but I would say it happened when the human being was taken over by a parasitic relationship to technology. I would call it symbiotic, as many technocrats assert, but it’s not. It’s wasting our brains.

Technology in the old form is still around. The old meaning of technology was about practicality. It assumed that whatever machine or meme of the human mind was being constructed had a logical purpose in the world and had a clear and obvious task. But somewhere along the way the machines began making the machines. That was the beginning of the end. A lot got in the way since then.

Now we have technology that has infiltrated every aspect of our lives. We have sex toys (not a necessity), video games (not a necessity), social media (not a necessity)… and all that old convenience technology has worked so fantastically well, it has left a new generation unable to care for itself. Most of us twenty-somethings can’t even start a fire, much less build a house, maintain it, and fix our own vehicles- tasks that were mundane and rather common sixty years ago. We have specialized businesses for these tasks, and now specialized technology, too. We are a “streamlined” culture- only its really the technology that is streamlined, not human beings.

So at this point, we have created an artificial parent, an artificial god, and an artificial nature. The relationships between most individuals are dictated by Facebook messages and SnapChats, and to say that these relationships somehow extend beyond the limited parameters of what is offered by these apps is nonsense. Without the fundamental bedrock of shared experience, the cornerstone of healthy relationships, there is only a digital and commercialized relationships.

I have had friends tell me they refuse to send me a Facebook message, and that in order to talk to them online I must get SnapChat.

“I only SnapChat,” they say.

They have Facebook… but they justĀ can’t.

Essentially they are telling me that our relationship is not worth the time it to takes to send a simple email. Or place a phone call. SnapChat is the epitome of quick, commercial communication. We are all beginning to talk like SnapChat, think like SnapChat, eat like Facebook, speak like Twitter. The end isn’t come. It’s here. The machines have won. The technology has superseded the creator. Frankenstein’s Monster is now a quantum-powered super-android with unknown potential for growth. We are the tinker-toys now. The computers are the brains. Don’t like it? “Tough shit,” says the artificial intelligence. “This is my realm now. You’re obsolete.”

Advertisements

Deer Hunting

Are you on fire in whales skin?
Sparkling, are you spitting?
My love is gone from the skin I’m in
rattling round, making viscous din
the object of my wandering down
to the creek where it was that I first found
something to hold in my eyes and both
a stalk of corn, clouds to roast
despite the risk it entails I’ll propose
we commit ourselves to the task at hand
of handing over our baggage, we land
and I meet you there with open arms
you were there for me when may come harm
snakes don’t scare me, but paranoias deep
I look over shoulders, most nights I can’t sleep
and if I never read the horoscope
horsetail would still fall in hexagon scope
and the mystic would laugh and tell me a lie
and watch me with his wide third eye
so I’ll take you with me to fire a gun
into the flesh of an earthen prize
that causes the flesh to prickle, rise
and that is why I will not lie
most of the time
that is why I will not lie
most of the time