It feels good to be off Spotify! It is just another step toward trading in a streaming life for dial-up. I admit, back in 1998, I thought I was a cool cat with my always on Internet from Roadrunner, as many of my friends were running a 24-7 AIM client. Information was instantly at our fingertips in an age when we had to know things. We were knowledge barons.

The millennium turned and this tech became ubiquitous. Its novelty as a jungle gym for the mind was replaced by an industrial park pumping out paradoxes of mindless automata. The need to know things, to be one independent from the collective, fell away. No one ever asked if we should do this.

Well, almost no one.

Before the age of even the (not-so-)smart phone, I remember the warm cascades of a coffeehouse on a frosted-edged, Christmas season night when someone asked why I did not have a cell phone. Moments later, they received a call during our conversation...

I wonder what fruit was wrought by these two decades of our handing over our tickets for autodidact adventure? Now caught in the safety net of pedagogical security, we are shoved into a can and sterilized, then stocked onto a grocer's shelf to be just another bland component of a dinner stew for the vanguards of power. Instead of becoming savvy to tech, people are subjugated to the Alvin and the Chipmunks voice erupting from their pocket demon. En masse, people ravage the technological landscape and across society itself, like termites tearing down a house. There is simply no recognition that words have no added significance when given a type font.

Did my commercial printing childhood with all the typesetting therein inoculate me from these crudely-formed representations of a will?

PEOPLE ACTUALLY CLICK ON ADS—who actually clicks on ADS?!