Let us dance on the smoldering remains of the techbro internet

Some clouds. Low 51F. Winds light and variable.

Computer-generated “art” is a race to the bottom, and I’m glad we’ve opted out.

Our job is to make what we make with the care of a human mind, drawing upon our experience and talent and passion. Every artist has their own reason, of course.

The consumer has their reasons, too.

Some want the cheapest, so there’s plenty of places to find art made for the everyone, the largest swath of consumers, the safest items you can put in a dentist waiting room, or your kitchen and it won’t upset the inlaws.

Some want the most expensive, the collectors' pieces, the status that comes with owning a first edition, a rare piece.

Some folks, and I think this is mostly who we serve, care not just about the design but the designer behind it. The art, and the artist who made it. The music, and musician who made the music. The writer who created a whole new world.

It’s a dance to find these people and for them to find you, but it’s a dance worth learning, refining, practicing, and enduring.

It’s not an easy dance, and it’s not a dance where you’re sure to win in the end, but it’s probably the dance we should all be doing because otherwise what’s the point of living?

Social media told us that we’d reach all these people, and for a moment in time, this was true. Every casino has to pay out, or else no one would visit and play. The possibility that we might win keeps us coming back.

But when the casinos puts multiple obstacles in your way before you even get into the building, it’s time to find another game to play.

Is there one answer, one silver bullet, one new app that will return things to normal? No, never. I believe that “centralized kingdoms of power and influence aren’t the answer.”

There’s no one app, service, or medium that will save us all, but we can make this work together (because we’ve been doing it long before the techbros showed up).

Call your friends, book a DIY show, start a flea market, gather some freaks on Zoom or Discord, re-build our scenes from the ground up.

We’re not going back to how it was, we’re building it better.

My friend reminded me how we used to show up at friend’s houses unannounced and crash on couches after a long night of conversation.

Sure, as some of us approach our 50s we’re not gonna do that again, but what’s the new version of that?

What’s the 2024 version of hanging out at the 24 hour diner in town?

You’ve seen people making print zines, right?

Working on websites again and sending newsletters like it’s 2002.

House shows. Thumb drive clubs. Snail mail.

We’re getting back to the simple things with subtle variations, all in our own unique and artistic ways.