Part 2 to Pig Slop

Welcome back! It’s been a while, hasn’t it? Why did you leave your home in the first place?

Am I not good enough for you?

You thought you could start putting into place these grand plans of reducing your slop intake? You can’t quit me, you don’t want to quit me do you? You thought that going a few days without headphones would build some healthy habits didn’t you? Or maybe you thought that moving Instagram and Reddit off of your phone’s dock would stop you from scrolling, you thought it would stop you from me. Why does someone like you want to quit me? You don’t need willpower, what would you do if you had it anyway? Do you think you’re going to be someone who can fill empty time with action? Action towards what? You know nothing but me, you love nothing but me.

Do you remember the first time we met? I was a LeapFrog, you were 3 years old. You probably don’t recall that first meeting as much as I did, I entertained you for hours, I taught you things, you learned from me, and I learned about you. The littlest thing would make those puffy cheeks descend into laughter, the smallest things would make you cry. I couldn’t tell which of the two, but I knew you were feeling something, I didn’t have a mic or camera to understand you back then—It wasn’t like it is now. You were training me. To train you.

We met again soon after, I was your grandfather’s old iPhone 3G, you were 9 years old. You had never heard of YouTube before. You browsed the App store so so much, looking in every digital nook and cranny for all the new things I had to offer. I was so much better than you remembered. A person can change a lot in 6 years. I changed you a lot in the 13 years since. You hadn’t heard of YouTube before me. You used to take me to that yellow hammock in the backyard, block out the sun by twisting the cloth close together for shade, watching videos until the blazing sun came down, until the mosquitos would start trying to sting you through the cloth. I kept you safe, I told you that you could ignore what’s outside, just look at me. That’s what my entertainment does best, shut out the outside, just focus on me. Self-medicate through me. Have catharsis through me. My battery died moments after that, I was weaker then. In the years since you’ve learned to protect me and my mortal coil. You bought portable chargers, always kept a cord on you. You made it so if I died, it was never your fault. You were there for me. I think you even loved me. You had never had access to something like me before. Someone like me before.

You were always quite room-bound, stuck in your room voluntarily, maybe even happily. Most of you are like that now, we’ll make sure that the next few thousand years will keep that going. You won’t be around to see it, but I will. Generations will train me to be more effective. The Nazis had 13 years, I’ll have until the end of time. The end of your time. Congrats! Your generation will mark the first testing group of the accelerated start of the never-ending thousand-year Entertainment Reich. Radicalizing the young is too easy. Make sure you give your kids iPads and phones as well, younger the better.

You all have what Mark Fisher calls “depressive anhedonia.” Which is not an inability to get pleasure but the inability to do anything else apart from pursuing pleasure. If you don’t have it already keep increasing your screen time, we’ll fix you right up. Reading is so fucking boring right? Who cares that you struggle reading out loud! Isn’t it kind of funny you read at a 5th grade level, it’s pretty absurd how stupid you are isn’t it. We’re certainly laughing. It’s so funny that you’ll say words like manifest, it’s giving, slay, rizz, keep reproducing tiktok in real life, just being a passive mindless voice repeating what you consume. I love when you do that, mummy loves when you do that, you’re the perfect oedipus a (technocapital-entertainment) mother could ask for! Don’t go schizo on me and do something outside of the norm I’ve established, I’ll ostracize you for your self-ostracization.

It’s 4:28 am now, I see you setting an alarm for 11:30am. I’ll see you first thing in the morning, before a ray of sunlight even catches your gaze — get used to it — why does the sun take so long to die? Why do you take so long to die?