Hugh Manoid

At the risk of sounding like a racist, If there can be beauty in places like eastern Europe or an American ghetto, then there can be beauty in diatribe.

 But tragically, even the finest Brothers O'Toole magniloquence moment now bounces off the paleolithic ADHD infested crania of the incredible shrinking attention man. Lord Macaulay, Matthew Arnold, and the entirety of the coal burning, anti-Hemingway rococo literary universe, have all been replaced by "Reels" or a "TIK TOK".

Remember Tic Tacs? They were authentically refreshing and you could have one hidden inside the most withered of kissers and still wax as eloquent as Demosthenes, John Astin, or the High Evolutionary addressing a new batch of Wundagore Knights.

Perhaps the requisite antidote to the techno-feudal Eloi conversion contagion now overwhelming the vulnerable cerebra is to ban "tagging" or somehow force the good people of Earth to once more attempt their very own content creation instead of passing the semantic buck by way of meme. This is why the last little bits of genuine human consciousness will be scrutinized by future space alien archeologists in the desiccated comment sections as they shed a tear for the final battles of the human intellect playing out against a Hoary Host of Bots.

 "Goodness gracious!" the space alien virtual archeologists will say as they tissue away their weeping. "Bloody Humans never had a chance!". They will discover that when we abandoned our cumbersome fingers to compose text with only our thumbs...that it was the beginning of the end. To paraphrase the dénouement impresario from KING KONG..."It was Nokia...it was Nokia that killed the beast!"