The more I think about the notion that an entire culture has succumbed to the allure of youth, and trapped itself in immaturity, the more troubled I become. Once upon a time, I thought the cult of youth was just the worship of the body beautiful–lithe, smooth-skinned young flesh–and a corresponding fear of aging and death. But I fear the truth is far more insidious. The more we become a “visual” culture, the more easily we fall into this trap of juvenilization…the hypnotic draw of TV, video, computer, and ‘Droid have sucked us in. We read less, we react more. We ponder less, we play more. We don’t reflect, we just “like” reflexively.

We blame it all on being busy…we don’t have time to read something substantial. Give me the news briefs, please. Give me the short sentences, the pithy paragraphs, the headlines. Read a book? Well…maybe on Kindle, where I can keep pausing to play Angry Birds.
But our appetite for sound bites seems to leave us empty of deep thought while forever hungry for more hot air. I could spend a lot of time researching and reporting to you what I think is at the root of this cultural phenomenon.
But it doesn’t matter.
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