Imagine a creative process that essentially feeds on little more than what’s cool right now, a millimeter deep understanding of our collective roots and our personal roots. A culture that doesn’t understand its own references, that trades primarily in disposable memes, is a culture doomed to being controlled by whatever political forces ultimately own the platforms of distribution. 

The number one thing we collectively did with our Promethean information powers was unhinge our jaws and try to swallow as much newly emerging social media as possible—voraciously, absent-mindedly, relentlessly. We became boa constrictors incapacitated by trying to swallow not simply a goat, but an elephant. 

What does it matter if I skip a single, socially lubricating word when I’m talking to a massive, barely competent LLM housed in the cloud? I might be saying words, but nobody’s ears are really listening to what I’m saying. If we’re being honest about this, who cares?, especially considering that I’m only speaking to a digital assistant. Read on, because I believe it means a lot, and I’ll explain why.

Ideas are no longer bound by time and space and opportunity. In fact, since you’re likely reading this on a hand-held device, you’re intimately aware of just how many ideas are pulling at your attention right now. Too many, most likely. We must make choices.

Ordinary things are everywhere. The benches, the goofy elephant picture, the water fountain, even the tropical leaves in all directions were not in themselves the source of inspiration. Inspiration comes from following through with goals. It comes from doing the work. It comes from noticing events of the day, the chaos of monkeys howling in the trees, the acrid tang of a poorly maintained pick-up truck’s exhaust, the sweet burst of a freshly picked orange.