Click. Click. Clackety clackety click. Sometimes, if I'm in a real hurry, it's just two tabs, but lately, it's been closer to five. I can check my Gmail, see how my post about abortion was received, find out what someone from my sophomore science class had for breakfast, and gaze in wonder at the 501 ways to use lace because it's all the rage right now. If I'm feeling particularly socially involved, I'll pull up Foxnews.com and make sure my own country hasn't been overtaken by zombies.
Images, words, ideas, little black dresses. I consume things. I fly through books, love sitting down to a good movie, and scroll through Pinterest looking at all the pretty ways to arrange flowers in a coffee can. Today I bought a little black shirt dress and a coral pink sleeveless button up. Later, I'm going to watch The Man from Snowy River. I snarfed a bowl of tasty dinner leftovers for breakfast this morning, had a butterscotch latte, an apple, and a PBJ sandwich for lunch. I consume things. You consume things. We consume things.
WHAT ARE WE THINKING?!
Imagine it this way. You buy a fancy schmancy water filter pitcher from the grocery store. The package guarantees that it will strain out 95% of all bacteria and gross whoknowswhat that's in your water. You are SO excited. This thing is amazing. Your water is practically sparkling when it comes out the other side of that filter. One day, you notice the sparkle is gone, and the water is back to tasting strangely like sewage. You mention this at dinner and young, well-meaning Jr. pipes up between bites of balsamic glazed mackerel that he took out the filtery part because it was slowing down the water from going into the pitcher.
Your brain is incredible. One famous dead guy even went so far as to use it to justify existence (I think, therefore I am). It's so complex and amazing that scientists still don't understand it all. The brain is the fancy schmancy water filter pitcher in this story. It's a gazillion GB processor. Ideally, it should be able to strain out the lies and the crap and the water bugs that flow in with the flood of information. The trouble is, the information is coming in like a hurricane, and many of us have decided that it's much faster to consume when the filter's removed.
I bought this little black dress, but I won't bother thinking about whether it was produced in a way that promotes people and good stewardship, or whether I should be spending this money on something else.
I read 100 status updates today, but I didn't use any of their information to move me to action to writing some snail mail to a friend.
I watched that Oscar winner with the good looking hero, but I didn't take time to think about what the producer was trying to say about human nature and the balance of power.
Instead of careful thought that leads to action, we settle for sitting in a desk chair in front of a screen. Alone. Thinking about how nice we'd look in J.Crew. Instead of visiting people who are also alone at their desk chairs, we take ourselves out for a little "me" time at the spa and the café. Instead of solving world hunger in a practical, culturally relevant, sustainable way, we overeat and try to make up for it by taking pilates at the gym.
We are being lulled into thinking we are intelligent, informed, even wise, while really, we are slowly losing our ability to reason and discern to the dilapidation of disuse. At a time when information is as abundant as the air we breathe, we should have the best governments, the most effective schools, the most advanced hospitals. Information is no good without action. Knowing the hormones associated with love is one thing. Helping an old man fix a flat tire is another thing entirely.
We have replaced social bonds with social media. We have replaced reasoned, deliberate contemplation with rabid ingestion of data. We have replaced diligently making a difference with merely knowing the difference between the populations of Uganda and Guatemala. We are slowly being devoured by the very thing we're devouring.
And if I have prophetic powers, and understand all mysteries and all knowledge… but have not love, I am nothing. - 1 Corinthians 13:2
One question.
Why are you still sitting alone in your desk chair reading this?
Little Miss Sunshine
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