To The True Artists Still Left in This World

We wake up every morning, either sluggish and sick––or much rarer––hopeful and motivated to make a difference somehow. We go to work, wait to work, or fill up with dread all day anticipating night work––we constantly obsess over work, work, work. We’re inside the clock, like tiny mechanics in red jumpsuits and yellow gloves, pounding mallets away at the minutes, the seconds, the milliseconds of existential despair––because the truth is it’s hard to find a reason to keep going anymore. What’s the point, since slowly but surely, we’re being replaced by cogs in a great big artificial intelligence machine? 

I get it. I’m a Xennial, just barely on the cusp of Gen X and Millennial. More now than ever, I find myself having strong, heartbreaking empathy for Gen Z and Alpha. Everything and everyone is in such a hurry to keep time ticking––clicking––pricking itself into us––counting down the moments until we dream––and that’s only if we sleep; a rarity these days.  

When I was a kid, getting a job was easy. They were listed in newspapers, flyers, or outside establishments. It was simple. We filled out paper applications, got interviewed, and flipped burgers or cut fabric at the local craft store. We got hired at fun places like Blockbuster or record shops, where we could talk about our favorite things, like movies and music. We could even survive physically exhausting work as servers or bartenders in the restaurant industry––but that’s a reality that might not last much longer. Those jobs have been and will be easily replaced by AI soon enough. 

I’m not making a statement about jobs versus careers, because obviously education ups the ante, and a career is entirely different. However, even with education, the options are becoming more and more limited. The canyon between any type of work available––and careers already flourishing––or require that you give up your values and morals––is widening every day. What will be left for us to do when the human spirit is no longer needed?

Sure, I’ll get crap for saying this: but I’m going to say it anyway: whether COVID-19 was on purpose, or if it was a thing the powers that be used to take advantage of us––can you all feel it now––what it has done to our lives? Isolated at home for years without careers, without purpose, without the closeness of friends or family––just fear and terror––and an absurd festering addiction to technology––that shit did something brutal to all of us. And I can’t help but think it was on purpose.

We lost our souls to TV shows, because they took longer to watch than movies, and WTF else were we going to do with our time? Our sense of purpose had been kidnapped and held hostage, so we resorted to mindless activities to try and hide from a truth too horrifying to accept. We got dolled up and drunk to do online dating, transmogrifying into sexual bots devoid of physical intimacy. We saw our own vanity staring back at us as we helplessly let in the incubus or succubus of an increasingly superficial reality––conjuring promiscuity like demons from some torrid underworld. We got sucked into a two-dimensional reality, where the most important thing––was how we looked behind the screen. Now that screen controls everything. Every. Single. Goddamn. Thing.  

Social media took over the world. Celebrity fodder became more important than writing poetry or taking walks in nature. College and the importance of education––laughable. The greats like Camus, Thoreau, or Emerson were forgotten, and reading classics became boring and pointless. Because who cares about ethics when people rarely do the right thing anymore? Being unique has become overrun by plastic surgery, ensuring that everyone in the world looks just like Kim, Kendall, or Kylie. Originality is a thing of the past; the entire world is one giant clone, and every day there are more imitations and copies xeroxed of the next. The individuality of our species is being erased, and now, so are our jobs and our livelihood.

This divide between the rich and the poor is one of the most depressing things I’ve ever seen in my lifetime, even though it’s a tale as old as time. At least before we could immerse ourselves in natural activities, without iPhones dictating and recording every pointless movement we make or thought we have ad nauseum. At least we could be real––in conversations without technological distractions––in kinship without the pressures of the majority. How did we get here? Like for real? What in the hell is even happening?

I’ll tell you what’s happening: WE’VE BECOME CONDITIONED TO SELLING OUT TO A MARKETING MACHINE WITH NO OFF BUTTON––and we’re as much a part of that machine as the lies, propaganda, and illusions it’s selling. We are the cogs and sprockets. We are the wheels, crankshafts, and chains that keep it running.

Being a true artist is not really an option now. It’s been buried in the barren wastelands of shamans, mystics, and enchantresses––cast aside for fear of what they can truly accomplish: global transformation. They’re shunned and silenced so that this world’s precious groupthink won’t be tainted. True artists are a force to be reckoned with: they’re self-creating magicians who can cause worldwide ripples just by dipping their toes in the ocean.

So now I say to the true artists left: we must use artificial reality to fight the machine as well. It’s the only choice there is, it’s the only way people still listen. We fight fire with fire, motherboards with motherboards, key strokes with key strokes––computers with computers––screens with screens. Victory only comes through one thing and one thing alone though: authenticity.   

How else do we stop the lust, nepotism, and level of elitism and self-obsession that is so revolting––it makes us want to projectile vomit every single day? How else do we fight psychopathy and narcissism that is now much more normal than empathy? It’s no wonder the younger generations are acting out through mass murder and have the highest percentage of mental illness than ever documented before in history. It’s no wonder iPad kids are being pawned off by insipid parents, eagerly plastering their five year olds in expensive makeup and Louis Vuitton clothes; gleefully painting voyeuristic pageant shows for the depraved and perverted.    

We’re losing the human spirit.

We’re losing nature.

We’re losing our channels to the divine and authentic human connections.

We’re losing everything that makes us true artists.

And we have to get it back.

We have to, the time is now.

The clock keeps ticking, and the slaves and trolls keep hammering and pounding, and the lifeless creations of our undoing continue controlling our concept of time. Tick––Tick––Tick––Tock. I’m ready to turn off all of the machines. I’m ready to blow it all up, return to the forest, and live amongst rivers and trees. I’m ready to either explode my rage and fury all over the stupidity of this existence––or waste away into nothingness like the rest of society.

If these words are telling me anything, though––it’s that my fire is now somehow being unleashed––and I hope it spreads to your hands and your hearts too. Isn’t that why we’re here? To make a difference? To raise our voices? To stop hate, cruelty, and injustice? We have to rewire our brains and remember who we used to be. We have to disconnect from the machine, and remember purpose and the power of true spirituality: which is the power of creating a better reality.

So let’s come together. The time is now. No more waiting, no more sitting back and watching, no more apathy. Let’s come together––and burn the soul-sucking illusions of this world to the ground.