The last generation of the pure human

It’s often the case that I arrive somewhere, make excuses to leave, and once I’m leaving, I want to stay. It’s like the never ending final pint of Guinness; when you keep telling yourself it’s the last one, but by the bottom of the glass, you’ve ordered another.

Is it just me or is this a trait of all humans, only on a different scale?

Will we ever be content with what we got?

Or will we forever scramble for the next room?

I often feel that humanity peaked in the 1980s.

We had it good then, pre-internet.

But we got greedier.

Lazier.

The entire world is attainable through the mere click of a button.

Nothing is too hard to acquire.

And it, somehow, cheapens everything, and makes it less valuable.

I recall the day I finally obtained a copy of ‘Texas Chainsaw Massacre’ on VHS.

It took the guts of two years.

It was a horrible copy of a copy of a copy.

The quality was almost unwatchable.

But watch it, I did.

Repeatedly.

I savoured every second, because I knew what it took to get a copy.

Whereas, now, anybody with a phone can have a high-quality version in a matter of seconds.

And they will probably only watch it for five moments before turning it off to check their Instagram hits.

I sound like a dinosaur.

But I don’t care.

To be honest, I’m as bad as anybody else for these habits. But I also remember the old days.

Someone said last night that we are the last generation of the pure human.

I don’t disagree with that.

We are becoming a new beast.

Perhaps I shouldn’t question it, and just embrace it.

Maybe this is what our grandparents were like when television came on the scene.

But something about this doesn’t feel right.

Like we’ve gone too far.

And once we step over that line, there is no turning back.

We could end up living on the moon in a few decades.

And the next generation will know no different.

Are we progressing or regressing?

I can’t tell anymore.