It is both human nature and conditioned behavior to seek security, happiness, and meeting

amidst the unreliable and fleeting.

How we gravitate towards the dazzling gadgets that deliver little else than buyer's remorse, enticing

entrees followed by gastric discomfort, cherishing approval one day only to receive criticism in the next,

watching helplessly as our 15 minutes of fame fade away

into insignificance.

As the youth of today responds with blank expressions

when I mention public enemy or the replacements,

this has actually happened. So too, thankfully will the Foo Fighters prove ephemeral. This would not be a darmatoc unless I insulted the poo fighters.

If we live chasing what effortlessly and immediately feels good, all we learn is that facile pleasures pass

and leave us empty-handed.

Worse, the run-of-the-mill materialist pursuit of happiness promotes a kind of chronic

dissatisfaction. We have to chase after new pleasures to replace the old ones that have the shelf life of yogurt.

Entranced by the facile posts on Twitter, Instagram, and Facebook, or the enticing hookups offered by Tinder, grinder, and OK Cupid,

or the ritualistic numbing routines of shopping, drugs, alcohol, or sugar consumption, we're missing the big point of existence.

For an experience to be authentic and true it cannot by definition require a screen nor can it be occurring somewhere else

it has to be right here right now felt in your body known as a true emotional experience.

The world we inherit bombards us with a poundingly repetitive message,

you are what you have.

Somewhere out there in the glass you are what you have.

Somewhere out there in the glassy modernist towers that line the river on Kent,

people live without ever experiencing aging or illness.

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