A no-holds-barred rant about the absurdity of modern life. From fake news and artificial intelligence to survey hell, foreign call centers, and the existential dread of driving through Farragut at 5 p.m. I think it’s all giving me…Brain Rot!
I saw where “brain rot” was declared the word of the year. When I read that, I had no idea what it was, but I knew immediately that I had it. In fact, I’ve had it for several years now—and it’s getting worse.
According to the Oxford Dictionary (which apparently had not noticed that it’s actually two words), “brain rot” refers to a decline in one’s mental state and intelligence, especially due to excessive consumption of too much trivial online content. That’s it. I knew it. I’m going crazy and stupid at the same time. The deranged world I’m trying to navigate is pushing this old traditionalist over the edge. Simplicity and common sense have surrendered to chaos and folly. My life is in turmoil, and my brain is rotting.
For starters, there is this thing called artificial intelligence. I don’t know what’s real anymore, and my brain is fatigued from watching animals talk and cars that transform into giant robots or monsters. Was that really Trump and Musk I saw dancing to “Stayin’ Alive”? You would think they are too busy redesigning the country to be dancing down the street. I thought my windshield got cracked, but as the crack slowly lengthened, I was not sure it was real. The strange way it meandered across to the passenger’s side made me think it might be AI messin’ with me. Maybe I could avoid a replacement windshield, but no, “Safelite Repair, Safelite Replace.” Am I really listening to Bob Dylan or some knockoff AI impersonation? Hard to believe someone would be interested in re-creating the sound of his voice.
I’ve been really worried lately about the plans to “militarily” invade Canada and make it our 51st state. My brain is exploding with thoughts about all the problems that will cause me. Don’t get me wrong, I have no love for the Canadian people and will fight if I have to. I’m still upset over the way they dumped Justin Bieber on us the way they did. I hate to think how my life will be further complicated if I have to learn the metric system, French, and the rules of hockey. Canada would be the second state with its own “national anthem.” Tennessee already has a “national anthem,” of course—“Rocky Top.”
I wish they would outlaw TikTok. I stare at it spellbound and become entranced and cross-eyed mindlessly watching for hours like I used to do trying to solve those stereogram artworks. While we’re at it, why not also ban Pinterest, YouTube, loud mufflers, robocalls, rude drivers, and cops that continually give citations for slow driving.
Take my advice and don’t ever answer a survey or give a review of a product or business online. Surveys give me a headache. Have you noticed everyone and every business wants you to answer or fill out some damn survey? I recently made the mistake of booking a hotel using an online booking app. The problem is when you need to talk to the agency, they are off-shore somewhere in the Caspian Sea and speak very poor English. When I had to change the date for my reservation, they promised to move it and confirm my arrival two weeks forward, but did neither. What they did do is send me a survey on my accommodations two weeks before I was scheduled to arrive.
Medical offices now demand you complete an online survey about your visit to the doctor who is going to perform your upcoming surgery. Don’t do it and, if you do, lie favorably for the surgeon. That’s a five-star opportunity for sure. I don’t know about you, but I don’t need a surgeon retaliating against me when I’m unconscious on the surgery table.
I bought a new car and immediately got an online survey from the manufacturer about my experience with the dealer. I gave a very positive report and awarded eight five stars and one four star and the dealer went crazy. The general manager called a relative of mine trying to influence an amendment to the survey. Can you believe it, they were mad about one four-star rating out of nine. I’ve been treated so coolly by the dealer, I’m afraid to take the car in for maintenance for fear they might sabotage the engine. Silly me, and I thought they wanted to know the truth.
Speaking of the truth, there is very little of it lately. My brain is turning to mush because the world is in such confusion we can’t even agree on simple truths, much less solve problems. There are things I’m told that perhaps I should not believe like “This call is being recorded for training purposes”; “Ukraine started the war”; “I’m not calling to sell you anything”; “You are required to arrive 30 minutes early”; “There was no insurrection and the people were entering in an orderly fashion like a normal tourist visit”; “Grandfather, I’m in jail and need you to wire me some money”; “Nobody was texting war plans or classified information”; and “Emus can’t help people customize and save hundreds on car insurance with Liberty Mutual.” Our brains are wearing out just trying to determine if these statements are true. We are so exhausted arguing over obvious facts, there is no time left to solve problems concealed by falsehoods. It is so refreshing to occasionally find someone who speaks straight and tells the truth.
Oh yeah, have you ever tried to unsubscribe to some unsolicited mailing on the internet? Near impossible, and I never wanted the emails nor did I need them. I try to never upgrade my computer because if I do I no longer recognize it and can’t find anything. I can feel the rot dripping into my sinuses. My life is plagued by changes that make my head spin. The Gay Street Bridge is now a wide sidewalk. Not actually a solution for me. If measles doesn’t get me, there’s always bird flu, Covid, and mad cow disease. How am I supposed to know if I had measles as a child? I can’t remember my childhood, much less what shots I got. Now, I’m told suddenly that I need to prove that I’m a U. S. citizen or I cannot fly on an airplane or vote in the next presidential election. I’ve never seen my birth certificate and have no proof of where I might have been born. I remember being told that I was born at St. Mary’s Hospital, but that might have been a lie. Now St. Mary’s is closed forever, and I had a nightmare I was from Mexico. Just one more thing to worry about. A lot of my “brain rot” is probably caused by all of these changes coming at me so fast. I’m spending far too much on Band-Aids and my phone number is now in the possession of every aggravating telemarketer in the country. Speaking of change, has anyone tried to drive through Farragut lately? HELP! If you find yourself traveling west from Lovell Road to Campbell Station in the afternoon, you better have a plan for stopping at least twice to use the restroom.
But not all is lost. As my brain rots, I’m holding on and can still smile. I’m surviving on life’s few great pleasures like Costco rotisserie chickens, U. T. sports, Farmers Markets, pizza burgers at Sam & Andy’s – Farragut, Antiques Roadshow, chocolate milk, and mutual love shared with a dog.
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