One of my favorite American moments: the gleaming pumps of the Vince Lombardi Service Area in New Jersey, the last service plaza before entering the tangled ramps and tunnels into New York. I returned to the city a few weeks ago, and I’m still recovering from the shock of so many people in the streets talking about money and brunch. The helicopter traffic is relentless, all these choppers shuttling the wealthy to their beachfront homes.
Crypto, personal brands, and a life spent unwittingly training algorithms. Cyberhacked utilities, the mercenary jargon of self-care, and billionaires in outer space. My sense of slippage grows each day, but I know a cognitive leap is necessary if I hope to survive this century and not be left pining for some romanticized past.
