In the rush for the latest gimmick, we are losing the joy of ‘things’
Anyone who's ever watched toddlers playing in a sandpit knows that the concept of the death of the physical is vastly over-rated. These tiny tots - the very manifestations of Freud's self-obsessed, filterless id - will fixate on any worthless piece of plastic within their grasp, and will cut anyone who tries to come near it. "Mine!" is the war cry of this generation (at least in their current, unsocialised guises). Physical objects are the simulacra of their mini selves, and ownership is their way of asserting control over their burgeoning sense of who they are. Like heck anyone's going to take that away from them.
And yet there are predictions and bestsellers and trend look books that suggest that the future is not physical, but a clutter-free space in which we are surrounded by nothing but a handful of beautiful things.
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