Sobriety
By Nyles Pollonais
The higher I go, into more elite circles, the conversation around creating wealth no longer postulates real estate, finance, or physical product creation and distribution. The topic of discussion is now content. Everyone is eager to create digital content. New podcasts, new videos, new music, new art, new merch, NFTs, and so on and so forth into 2023. And, just as much as everyone is willing to create this content, the distribution networks already in place are prepared to advertise, market, and sell this content. I need not mention the names of the well-known companies who have monopolized the supply chains.
The question, now, becomes… why? Why is it that we are focusing on producing and consuming so much content? Is it because we are entering the idealized version of the 21st Century wherein we find it our right as human beings in a free market to buy, sell, and trade such a product? Is it because we have such an inclination to produce this material since the tools of creation seem to fit snug in our hands and pockets? While both may be true, and this global spread of content may be a blessing, I fear that there may be something more sinister at play.
I have tended to refrain from writing politically charged think pieces in the past for fear of retribution from scholars or ever-updating events, but this idea has struck me over the recent days, and I feel that it may be my duty to share this with whoever cares to consume it. See, my content, in theory, is no different than the aforementioned digital content I described in the earlier paragraphs. It is found, shared, consumed, marketed, distributed, and discarded as all the other content that currently exists. There is no other medium available for me to distribute this information to escape this trend, so I must, in essence, do the same.
Initially, I had aimed to frame this piece as artistically as I could. It would have read like a letter from the future to the past. As if someone who had lived in this time left a note in a bottle for future humans or aliens to read as they scoured Earth looking for the remains of a society that once flourished. The narrator (me) who fell to the same vice of numbness — or maybe even fought to spark a change in the people around them — pitied the idea that they did not do more to change what they did or did not see coming. I stopped there because it became too arduous a task, and too dark, to write from such a place. Call it my hope or my lust for life, but I could not engage in such a feat. Regardless, I could not hold this thought to myself.
Copium. A combination of the words “cope” and “opium” was brought up in a conversation with an old friend. His brother coined the term, and I told him that I loved it, and that I would use it for this piece. For me, the term was such an accurate description of the state of the majority of the first world at this present time. The addictive nature of the drug and the defeatist spirit of coping embodied the idea of what content does to us. Constant stimulation attached to its never ending supply pacifies our fight, our needs, our spirit — in turn making the withdrawal evermore insurmountable.
I don’t know if “call to action” is the correct phrase for what I hope that this piece will do, because it is more than that. This is a call to correction, a call to claim even. Our species, our planet is entering a time of no return. The water is running out. The fuel is dwindling. The food is spoiling. The air is toxic. The space is hotter than ever. And what do we do? We guzzle content. We do it because we must. We do it because we can. We do it because we would rather not deal with the reality when we can just hit the copium so that we can feel alright. I understand, because I do it too.
“If all your friends went to go jump off a bridge, would you go too?” I was raised with this kind of thought process. Accompanying this question would often come the declaration that I must be a leader. What it did to me, however, was to force a sort of critical thinking to any widely accepted idea, trend, or group. While I can’t fight with fact, and will not, this out-of-the box thinking — for lack of a better term — has come with its perks. I will not discuss the cons here. Essentially, when everyone is doing something (even if I am part of that everyone) a thought will come into my head and I will begin to ponder, “From the outside looking in, why is this the norm? Is there another way to be? Is this good for me?” That is how I came to the idea of content copium.
What if we are being sold a drug, copium, to keep us complacent about the state of the world? If we had the chance to disconnect, would we? What could we do to take another look at things with our own eyes, and not the eyes of another? I know, it sounds very matrix-esque, red pill, blue pill. The difference here is we are right on the brink of entering those cocoon-like body tanks. We have not gotten there yet, but we are damn close. See, the wealthy will be protected. They have already begun to hoard resources, close borders, buy extraterrestrial escape pods, and dig in-ground shelters to save themselves. I, like many of you, do not have that option. And, to be honest, even if I was wealthy to that extent, I am not sure I would actually choose that option either.
I want you to engage in a sort of sobriety with me, a kind of “California sober” from content. California sober suggests that while refraining from hard substances for the sake of healing may be necessary, certain substances are acceptable in that process and can even facilitate and expedite the healing process (i.e., the usage of marijuana or shrooms). With content, I recognize and appreciate that all content is not bad content. We need books; we need news; we even need the basic level of connectivity that certain social platforms provide. These mediums provide us with access and insight into the reality many hope to escape with copium. What’s different here is these sources, these items charge our spirit and our fight and refocus our needs.
“If only I wasn’t so busy streaming, I would have seen it coming.” That was the title of the artist piece I wanted to write, but now, I think you get my point. Let’s start small. What are you currently ignoring in your home or in your community that would aid to the alleviation of this issue? I do not have the answer, but I was asked by the editor to elaborate on ideas that may help us to begin to break this habit. One thing we could try is a boycott. What if we boycotted the copious copium content and held the companies that hold our attention accountable? Similar to the “don’t buy where they won’t hire you” motto of the civil rights movement, “don’t stream if they won’t go green?” I admit, the catchphrase can use some work, but like I said earlier, this is new for me too.
Meet the Writer
Currently living in SWFL, Nyles A. Pollonais is a man of many titles who spends most of his time engaging in healthy living, creative expression, communications, education, liberation, and critical thought. He holds a Bachelors of Arts in Political Science from New York University and a Masters of Arts in The Design and Technology for Learning from the University of Michigan, Ann Arbor. Nyles is a longtime contributor to Audacity Magazine & Events and our most read writer of 2021. He has recently released his first EP, Seasons, under the stage name First Amiri and is working on furthering his artistic endeavors through various mediums. Born and raised in Brooklyn, New York, Nyles is never shy to discuss his Caribbean heritage and New Yorker identity and he just might cook you something to eat. Visit him on Instagram under the handle @nnnyles and check out his YouTube page under the same name.
