As we disembark from the year of the selfie, we as a generation must self-reflect on what we are defined by. The generation above us would likely define us as social media consumers with a voracious appetite as we hungrily craft our next tweet. Our lives play out in technicolor square fashion thanks to the addictive ease of Instagram’s interface. Our thoughts effortlessly tweet their every meandering muse as Twitter grasps our psyche and refuses to let go. And to say that the iPhone hasn’t given our generation a disease is to live in intentional denial. Honestly, my iPhone lays sub-consciously by my side as I type this paragraph. We are all products of our generation. However, I think there is a silent movement of the millennials to a conscious generational awakening.
This technological attachment was superimposed in Spike Jozes’s latest film “Her,” where a man pursues a romantic relationship with his operating system. The romance sheds light on an overarching juxtaposition of our generation which plays out on television shows such as “Girls.” Our generation supports the one-night-stand but fails to acknowledge a hello from a stranger. A generation denies emotional vacancy but allows tangible intimacy to exchange amongst complete strangers. “Her” paints the picture of a man struggling to be emotionally present, while physically vacant in his romantic relationship with an operating system. This relationship spirals in the aftermath of an emotionally absent marriage. The millennial generation seems to have allowed this intangible vacancy in relationships to trickle down into the mundane aspects of our everyday existence. We have enabled social media to replace relationships and our self esteem to be measured out in retweets and followers.
This generational difference played out in a short discourse with my father over my benign request of a record player for Christmas, nothing fancy, just a simple model to spin my favorite albums. The request was met with sheer befuddlement from my father, a member of the baby boomer generation. His claim was his generation can not grasp why millennials aim to buy vinyl when impeccable digital files are available for free instantaneously at our fingertips. My rebuttal attended we’re a generation with a desperate longing for something to grasp. A vast majority of our lives play out on a single electronic device held in the palm of our hand. Honestly, can you name the eye color of your five best friends? We are so intrigued with the content displayed crisply on our phones’ displays that we often forget to look into the eyes of others. We’re instead dangerously attached to gazing into the retina display of Steve Job’s greatest creation.
“Her” illustrates the detrimental damage of a generation that relies entirely on physical gratification without emotional intimacy. Our lives cannot play out wholly on Instagram without ever halting to look up and speak to those around us. Nor can a generation rely wholly on physical gratification without an intentional discovery of people’s inner makeup. And as Rome wasn’t built in a day, it is unlikely a generation will change overnight. However, might the tangibility of a record or the well-worn pages of a book offer a cathartic experience which allows a merge of tangible object with emotional experience. The experience thus trickles down to society’s inner connectivity and alleviates the possibility of Jonze’s prediction to manifest into reality.
If as a generation we do not stand and fight for an air of tangibility in our lives, then soon we will live out our entire existence on a retina screen as everything from groceries to electronics are now available for purchase online. Last month Amazon unveiled design plans which would allow drones to effortlessly deliver to your front door. Even Netflix graciously offers a digital fireplace, thus alleviating the need to tamper with your firepit or even wander outdoors. Arguably, digital music files are just one more appendage that keeps us ever dependent on smart phones. And while vinyl may seem an unnecessary expense, and your friend may leave you bemused when he or she shows up to your party with a disposable camera, it is likely a millennial tired of their generational definition amounting to nothing more than how many retweets their Golden Globe pun received. Here’s to hope that everyone bears with our generation as we reintroduce ourselves to the lost art of tangibility.
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The lost art of tangibility
Alie Dalee
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January 21, 2014
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