the death of tomorrow

the amazon bungle.

less and less do we venture out to purchase.  everything is at our fingertips then at our doors shortly thereafter.

who can say no to this.

bricks and mortars slowly empty. the people whose livelihoods depend on working at these sites find themselves out of work.  they cannot ride the amazon bungle...they cannot pay their bills.

we see other faces, face to face, less and less.  our fingers guide us into a world of flat screen pretense peppered with the occasional truth. we speak less and are spoken to by emojis and hologramatic witticisms.

neighbors, family and friends...doorbells no longer ring....smartphones ping.

convenient means of quick contact and emotional avoidance.

well, soon enough robots and other assorted machinery will be taking over and performing the intellectual functions once performed by man.  our living companion animals and for some, our children, will be scrapped for metallic faux that do not need to be fed, washed or taken for medical treatment.

the occupations that will be available  to us will be those that serve the machines, that repair and replace, until of course the machines do that too.
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and we will sit, surrounded by the products of our "ingenuity",  that ingenuity now vanished into the realm of memory.  imagination. the staple of a productive and happy life, stripped away and filed under unplanned obsolescence.

mankind enslaved, unable to fend for himself, outsmarted by himself.

who can say no to this.