Quite possibly more than any other attention focusing (straining) medium, the internet has aided in forming the most aggressive abstractions from reality.
Where it used to be the case that knowledge of the world was codified through long-form trials, experimenting or exploration, the internet has obscured the value or necessity of these traditional modes. The world we live in today is privileged with unprecedented access to information and answers to most, if not all, vital questions (as well as mundane curiosities.)
It has become possible to live of the world, without having to venture into it. From the comfort and warmth of our beds, we can gauge the weather. Appliance by appliance, even our homes are being integrated into the digital age. A few twiddles of our thumbs after checking the weather and the curtains can be automatically drawn at every window, still without slinking out of bed.
So far from our agrarian roots, even food materializes at our doorsteps, stories above the ground and hundreds of miles away from the soil it originated (and hopefully did.)
Yes, we live abstractly because modes of process have been systematically denatured. We fail consistently to acknowledge the consequences of convenience playing to the loss of meaningful process. The abundance created by widespread convenience is for intent and purpose, an inflated abstraction of necessity, resulting in widespread waste and mismanagement of finite resources.
When I think about the modern aggression of abstraction, I see fewer examples more obvious than the food in our diets. May I be spared for my attempts to dazzle and entertain you with this writing, but, if you are what you eat, what are you eating?
Having our basic needs met by industrial strength convenience, most of us in developed nations find ourselves on glorified vision quests, searching for our “identity”—which in itself is an abstraction from living purposefully. From early age, we’re quickly indoctrinated into the cult of aspirationalism, immediately derailing the chances for sensible management of our time. We learn to accept meanings in symbols established outside of our own developed values, and seek self-worth from a drying pool of socially prized occupations. All the while being strung along with tokens like, “follow your bliss…your passion,” dangling like a carrot attached to a gyroscope.
We have been duped into finding or attempting to define ourselves by limiting or wholly cauterizing our vulnerabilities. The trend itself is not unique to our time, though in continuing to do so, living for abstraction, we reject involvement with tangible realities. Numbing our senses to information or experiences that may indicate discordance with whatever imaginary paths we’ve set ourselves down has gained broad appeal in the digital age.
Stability is craved in a world where change becomes more of a dirty, frightful word in polite conversation. It is this combination of numbing comfort and idealistic aspirationalism that has dug the maze of trenches for the identity warfare and politics we’ve come to find ourselves mired in today.
Now that I’ve bored you with the bones of my broad-statements, let’s bare some meat. Clever because I’m jumping back into food. Yes?
How often do you find yourself in the midst of proud vegetarians? Vegans, or even meat eaters? How often do those terms come up and the ensuing conversation doesn’t immediately spiral into personal jihads and emotional battering? It’s almost impossible to discuss food choices today without puncturing whatever bubble has been blown around an individual’s identity to protect them from any form of criticism or objective lines of questioning. Exceeding the realm of simple personal choice, like styles of dress or musical taste, our diets have also become badges of honor, belonging, or moral superiority, served with decadent dressings.
Our food culture perfectly captures the essence of our immersion into aggressive abstraction. Why do humans eat? Simply and universally, we eat to stay alive. We need food in order to provide our body with the energy necessary to…well, look for more food. We need to eat. Humans are basically zombies with a conscience and the ability to avoid cannibalism. Devoid of our romanticized hopes and dreams of progress, the body still needs fuel. Our earlier ancestors didn’t do much more than look for food and safe places to sleep and fuck. Sounds a lot like what we do today, huh? We aren’t actually much different than our predecessors. Sure we’ve got straighter spines, and our thumbs have never been more entertained, but what else really sets us apart from early human life? Not much. Still gotta eat.
Whenever I talk to someone about food or health, a speech bubble pops up and in it a cartoon image emerges of a person running tirelessly away from a hoard of buffalo (wings) led by the pale specter of death. Running, running, running…towards a cliff. One of the hallmarks of American culture is our inability to confront death in a realistic or open manner. Deemed too morbid or emotionally draining to be discussed outside of digital pittance for the deceased immortalized by the internet, we’ve buried the subject underneath heaps of kale and kettle bells.
It seems as though no matter where you turn these days, something new is giving you cancer. The internet might have you believe that whole grocery stores are actually just fronts for atomic waste storage. Last year it was gluten, now it’s red or processed meats and cheese. Gurus and dieticians alike pedaling all kinds of iodizing solutions and tips to preempt your next trip to market from possibly being you and your family’s last. Suddenly providing yourself with basic nourishment seems like a matter of national security, complete with three-letter-agencies and rebel forces competing for your fragile attention and dollars.
Our separation from anything resembling “nature” is firmly knotted in the decadent hypocrisy of the “natural” food movement of the post-agrarian world. Our fears and insecurities—specifically surrounding death—provide the perfect starting medium for all kinds of industrious growths of enterprise. In the world of abstraction, labels supplement for time spent collecting objective experience or knowledge. In our fear driven world, the forks in the road are conveniently marked by simple-signage. Avoiding the crippling paralysis that might arise in the presence of exaggerated choice, is made easier with the addition of words that pander to our basic fears and desires.
These days, you can slap the word “natural” on just about anything and with that, buyers are entitled to wax on about their “healthy” choices and look down on the conventional plebs poisoning themselves with artificial ingredients. Natural has become synonymous with “good for you;” which is exactly what you want to say to anyone who tells you about their diet. Most popular snack foods today have some “natural” version of their product. Usually made without the enriched flours, corn or dyes ubiquitous among shelved food. Now, rather than caving to the primal draw to the super-naturally red, puffed corn sticks, you have the option of simulating a more refined, healthy choice in the form of muted, earth toned puffed corn sticks. This is abstraction in its purest form. The appearance of interacting with a definite article—health, in this instance—while systematically denaturing our ability to perceive parts from the whole.
While there is no doubt that the foods we consume play a large part in our health, no food is in and of itself healthy or unhealthy. Like everything else in nature, our health is systemic, responsive to countless other factors in our environment, as well as our conditioning to those responses. Eating has become a part of the ritual of death-escapism.
By now, you might be wondering why I’m going on about this. What does this have to do with the Gospel of Fucked? We all know people love to fight over trivial differences, or build themselves up on them, so why care about this pettiness?
Well, this has everything to do with the Gospel of Fucked! Let me tell you.
We aren’t ever fucked by one particular event or happening. In the Gospel of Fucked, we seek to unveil the abstraction that overwhelms the individual senses so we can deconstruct the mechanisms that wind up fucking us.
Attempting to make progress with dualistic thinking is one of the greatest personal errors we can make as individuals. What we see today in the unraveling of the democracy that we’ve taken for granted, and civility as a whole, is popular abstraction and pageantry working to segregate people in an exponentially more ways than the simpler, broad castes: race, sex, religion. We Are Fucked because our democracy, our ability to make collective changes to better the world we share, are being torn apart by terminal polarization fomenting into popular hatred.
I am openly not techno-optimistic. I appreciate the internet for the potential it has in actually being an effective tool in bridging humanity, but I believe that it is just that, potential. While I’m not trying to downplay the obvious benefits and advances to humanity the internet has enabled. Connecting with loved ones has never been easier. Meeting new people isn’t limited by physical proximities. Education has never been more accessible. These are all wonderful things, that are definitely a credit to the internet, but I’m not naive enough to think that they are the greatest happenings brought on by it. There is a very unfortunate and lazy belief that technological progress will bring unlimited prosperity to humanity. What this line of thinking conveniently ignores is the human element.
“The real problem of humanity is the following: we have paleolithic emotions; medieval institutions; and god-like technology. And it is terrifically dangerous, and it is now approaching a point of crisis overall.”