On August 19th, 1996, many people would say the world was a relatively different place than it is now. You wake up not to an alarm from a smart device, no “Alexa, five more minutes!” You trudge out of bed, hitting the analog button and start your day. Automation was waking up to an automatic brew of relatively cheap Folgers coffee.
The cable TV may have a ‘Good Morning!’ show, you brush your teeth, check the answering machine and get out the door. Everyone is looking and waving, perhaps for a few joggers hooked by wire to the discman. The music compact discs were built as solid as the AOL discs that powered the GUI to the outside world. Pretty windows, text screens for data input and images. The Internet whirred and screeched in most homes and offices, and buzzed over cable for the fancypants who could afford Grey Poupon and the fancy ice cream that one cut with a fork and knife.
Getting home, perhaps you feel like Chicken Tonight or Hamburger Helper. All honorable meals if you cooked the meat yourself. The 90’s era budget, the 79 cent boxes were not strenuous for many families. The skies seemed so clear and blue after saving Earth from the 1980’s CFCs and flatulent cows, so watching Lifetime Network shows about shopping like Supermarket Sweep was a great preamble to catching a few videos on MTV. But one fateful day, August, 19th, 1996 to be exact, a poignant artist noticed the possible end of an era. The end of tech simplicity. The coming of a virtual insanity.
Hell, it's a wonder men can eat at all
When things are big that should be small
Who can tell what magic spells we'll be doing for us?
And I'm giving all my love to this world
Only to be told
I can't see, I can't breathe
No more will we be
Future's made of virtual insanity now
Always seem to be governed by this love we have
For useless, twisting, other new technology
Oh, now there is no sound
For we all live underground, whoa
Now there is no sound if we all live underground
And now it's virtual insanity, forget your virtual reality
Jay Kay of Jamiroquai noted that the buzz of technology and the disconnect before many others. Now, we truly do live in a world where things that are big should be small. Meta’s new headsets lead the revolution where a man or woman can see 20 computer screens at once. Or perhaps see the Earth no different than an astronaut would in space, but all in the comfort of the living and dressed in boxers and a top.
The magic spells of technology cast us into hours long dives, curated by algorithms that use cookies and more to track our shopping habits, our exploration habits on a virtual map. Our human voices, to give us content that will likely addict us to dopamine hits of familiarity. If we could possibly be drowned and still live, feeds give us that ability. Breathing in echo chambers of data, no matter if it is meant to divide us or true, it is constant and floods the mind and eye. The Walkman and Discman are ancient relics, not even worthy of a second look at a thrift store after a family drop if off after a garage sale. Now Air Buds use wireless magic and the Norse rune inscripted Bluetooth technology to transmit sound, people opting to text and listen to podcasts that could now even be AI generated.
There is no sound? There is sound, but we live underground not from fear of nukes – ah, okay, we’ll leave that one for now – but in self-dug wholes where we can conjure up visages of entirely new humans, doing the most absurd things, crafted in engines that can render virtual realities for a price or token, the only limitation being digital guardrails.
Okay, What Does This All Have to Do With A Pebblr Penguin?
That is the question. In the digital landscape, it is easy to lose the one common thread we have together: humanity. As noted by music mastermind Jon Batiste, it is important for us to remember to Stay Human. Our minds have allowed us to grow a digital virtual landscape, but where is the humanity in it? How are we using it?
Are we using it to share, to dig ourselves underground, to make new looming monuments to tech that we forget to connect on a human level. Do we remember to share outside the algorithm, special little things that can make the day brighter.
Ironically (not at Alanis Morisette levels, but still truly ironic), this video of Robot Chicken is something I watched 20 times. It invoked my emotion of humor and nostalgia. I would normally maybe hit like, then scroll to the next dopamine hit. But today, I chose to reflect and share. What is it that’s funny? Well, it’s been quite some time since I saw Jay Kay slide around his cool floor (the making of the video was actually pretty neat) and sassily tell us about the world we’re living in.
And it’s been a while since I saw Robot Chicken. But the animation skill put into the movement was perfect, along with the faceplant of the woman which to me perfectly summarizes 2025 and how we have used our abilities of technology to cause a lot of chaos and to be used by those who are using for the same ends.
So in time, our mission to share as humans, to share our thoughts in small moments, will in hope cause ripples that may spark thought, debate, humor, pleasure, a thumbs up and become discussion items. But most of all, remind us to think beyond the thumbflick and scroll, but in the detail of times where we did not have constant inundation in tech. Let’s celebrate those things, let’s stay human.
That’s not nature’s way.