Little Johnny comes home from school excitedly to finish up for Christmas.
He walks into the kitchen, pacing slowly.
“Mom,” he whispers but you can hear the confusion in his voice.
He sees her sitting there expressionless. He inches closer and waves his little hand in front of her. Not a twitch. Not a blink. Not even a little exhale.
But before he can react. Her head turns and she grabs him by his scrawny little shoulders. A look of horror washes across his face. He can’t do anything to resist.
“Mom?” he says.
“You’ve forgotten that only three years ago you were perfectly capable of writing a text, writing an email, telling a story and it should worry you that powerful companies have convinced us we can’t do things we’ve been doing since the dawn of time…” she says.
“Big Tech is offering you a Faustian bargain. It promises to remove all friction from life, to keep you from having to think or study, and the result is your brain will become pudding, you’ll become incapable of creativity or communication. They want to make you a non-person!” she says. This time more aggressively.
She drops him to the floor and runs out of the front door. Poor little Johnny is trying to process all of the words his mother has just said to him.
Outside there’s a loud crash and people are screaming. A blood curdling shriek echoes back inside of the house.
“I’m sorry Johnny, I didn’t want it to end like this!”
/end
SEE WHAT BIG TECH IS DOING. IT’S DRIVING PEOPLE MAD, INCLUDING ME.
In all honesty though. ‘Tis the season to read books and eat food and snacks and watch real movies (While you still can)
Cause next year is gonna be an absolute clown show. The way things are going to be forced into our lives without any resistance whatsoever will drive you truly bonkers.
Give this to your loved ones and help them prep for 2026. Thank me later.
Stephen Walker.
P.S. By time this lands in your inbox. I would’ve probably been heavily dosed up on lemsip and deep in a coma. So you can thank the medication for my semi-fever-dream type story.