Sipping FOMO Bordeaux & Riding The Bow Waves of Future Shock
“Shit’s not gonna slow down. It’s going to get very weird.”
… I think to myself, watching a bunch of teenagers eagerly catch a Lapras on the promenade.
It’s either a millennial quarter-life crisis, an increasing incapability to manage my time amidst the orgy of information prostitutes dotted along the information highway, or that David Bowie was the guardian of weirdness to protect our world from demise.
Besides the coffee, there’s an odd feeling in my stomach, a realisation that we’ve reached an inflection point. We are at the top of the rollercoaster, ready to dive face first into an increasingly crazy & chaotic miasma… riding the bow(ie) waves of the future shock, in such a way that our only realistic response would be to “keep our hands and arms inside the vehicle at all times”.
Those who would dare to do so, willing to take the shots of curiosity and venture into the alleyways of the future, won’t just be greeted with the pretty streetlights of the internet, its meme gangs, and mind orgies of the online coffeehouses: it would be as if they took PCP & LSD, got dick-punched by Pepe the frog, and then got stranded amongst a bunch of Magikarps with hololenses on their faces.
Only those well equipped to deal with the permanent Snapchat faceswaps, the infinite consensus realities built on Ethereum, the roving AI deepminds, & the swiping hordes will be able to venture into it.
Even for those who constantly want to get balance from the hangovers of sipping from the bottles of Glen Urgency, FOMO Bordeaux & Zeitgeist Pulseners, would be advised to stay indoors. Mewtwo *might* just spawn at Burning Man next year, and you don’t want to miss that, do you?
An old man with long white side-burns, looking like he belongs as a curator in a British Museum, shuffles by. He looks happy as the sun beats down on his face. He has that kind of contented look that could be described as a crackling cozy fire in winter, the warm & silent embrace with a lover, the feeling of the sun on your skin on a spring day & the taste of a cold whiskey at the tawny dusk of an indian summer day.
Too bad he is missing out on that sweet Lapras.
