What's Cool This Early Autumn

On the internet, romanticizing your life, and Meg Ryan

By luck or fate or some other reason, you’ve found yourself reading an email from Thinking Is Cool, *the* podcast to listen to if you want to have better conversations. If this email was forwarded to you, sign up for regular correspondence from me, Kinsey, right here:

Good morning and happy Friday, everyone. I’m a little groggy this morning—I couldn’t fall asleep last night because my brain wouldn’t stop screaming “caught a viiiibe, baby are you comin’ for the riiiide” and for that reason I will today be writing about the importance of digital detox.

Let’s take it anywhere.

Stockholm Syndrome // Prometheus

Lately, I’ve felt like Prometheus. [Buckle up for an extended/slightly graphic metaphor.] As the myth goes, Prometheus stole fire from the gods to give to humanity, buttressing our early ideas of civilization. Prometheus was punished for this alleged transgression by Zeus, who doomed him to eternal torment by chaining him to a rock where an eagle would peck his liver out daily (very metal). Eventually, Prometheus was freed by the hero Heracles.

Sometimes I feel as if my version of fire is this show. My punishment for committing myself to this mythical pursuit of thoughtfulness? Being chained to a rock so heavy it’s incomprehensible: the internet. And instead of an eagle snacking on my organs, I wake every day to an onslaught of vitriol and comparison and this shrinking feeling in a vast sea of information, some of which is true and most of which is not.

We all have our version of this myth because, whether we like it or not, we are beholden to the internet. My fire is Thinking Is Cool; yours is likely whatever you do that requires you to be online.

Sometimes, I want to turn it off. I want to shut it down. I want to stop typing and searching and liking and retweeting and posting. I want to go off the grid. But no Heracles has emerged to save us from this eternity online.

So I sit here, in front of the computer I can’t live without, and think about what it might be like to live without it. I love the internet; I hate the internet. I hate that I love it and I love that I hate it.

The internet is bad: It has dramatically and permanently increased the speed at which we consume everything, from clothes to content. It has created impossibly unrealistic expectations of success and beauty. It has given bad people cover to do bad things.

The internet is good: It has streamlined everything. It has offered me new friends and connections and a boyfriend on a silver platter. It has extended opportunity to parts of the world historically bereft of it. And most importantly, it’s how I do my job.

Could I live without an internet connection? Would my mom write me back if I sent her letters? Do people still use cash? How do I get a landline? Would Jeff Bezos notice?

In the dreamland inside my mind, I could go off the grid and I could still work as a journalist and I could still have a full life with connections and new friendships and I could walk around the city without getting lost. But reality tells me something different—that it’s impossible today to stop using the internet and Heracles isn’t coming to save me and actually it’s really convenient to shop online.

Without the internet, I might not be so self-conscious of, like, the shape of my ears. And maybe we wouldn’t be facing a new epidemic of vaccine hesitancy. But without the internet, we would miss out on culture and community to a devastating tune. I’d be out of a job. I’d never have found the pieces that inspired this one—Your grandmother is not in the metaverse by Ali Montag and A blog about logging off in 2021 by Terry Nguyen.

My existential wrestling match with the existence of the internet and borderline pastoral idea of going completely off the grid are most likely romantic and overblown and alarmingly dramatic (tbh my personal brand). I’m weighing life online vs. life offline as if one might carry more heft than the other, but the truth is that they’re inextricably connected, unmeasurable because they’re inseparable.

Our reality isn't binary: We live in an online world, but that doesn't prevent us from creating one offline, too.

I might spend the rest of my sane years contemplating the impacts of the internet, but there’s one thing I’m sure of—we’re in too deep to disavow ourselves of the web completely, but it’s not impossible to practice good digital hygiene.

We can appreciate what the internet has given us without feeling like Prometheus. We can log off when it feels too overwhelming to stay logged on. We can exist on the internet without giving up the feeling of touching grass and looking at leaves and smelling a cup of freshly brewed coffee. We can be dynamic.

So here’s to dynamism, appropriate technological appreciation, and logging off. That’s what I’m thinking about today.

It’s not every day I compare the human existence to that of the gods, so let’s cap off this Friday jam session with some lighter food for thought.

Things I’m really into right now:

  • Hyper-specific Spotify playlists—especially those crafted by Campbell Fauber

  • The extra creamy oat milk from Chobani, which is the superior oat milk brand (I will be taking no further questions)

  • The Jazz for Autumn collection, which is the perfect background soundtrack for getting work done during Meg Ryan fall

  • Meg Ryan fall

  • Tiny pumpkins

And, of course, Thinking Is Cool. I’m really into the episode I released on Monday for two reasons: 1) it’s about a topic that I find deeply compelling and incredibly important and 2) it was made in partnership with a company I genuinely, truly respect the hell out of.

The episode is all about the retail investing revolution, and I made it with my friends at Public.com, which is the only app I use to invest my hard-earned internet money.

Public.com is a free investing social network app that allows you to both own parts of the companies you believe in and share ideas about your investing strategy with your community. I’m a fan and an active user (follow me here).

Download the app today or sign up online at Public.com with the code STAYCOOL to receive $10 in free stock. Just remember: This offer is valid for U.S. residents only, and you must be 18 or older to join. Visit Public.com/disclosures/ for more information.

Listen to the episode on Apple, Spotify, and anywhere else you get your pods.

That’s all for today—go forth and think. Have a great weekend!

-Kinsey