Notes from the Post-it Wall | Week of September 12, 2021
I like to think that when our society crumbles and future humans or alien scavengers dig our civilization out of the dirt, they’ll look at the Met Gala and laugh at our absurd level of indulgence the way we look and laugh at ancient Rome.
...that the algorithm is our new God—omniscient, invisible, and deeply invested in selling me socks I already bought. It knows my shame, my lust, my 3am spiral into videos titled ‘Top Ten Failed Soviet Amusement Parks’. It knows I clicked. It remembers. It doesn’t forgive.