The Rise Of The Zombie Nation

Walk into any gym and watch. Really watch.

There's a man sitting on the leg press machine. He finished his set four minutes ago. His eyes are locked on his phone, thumb scrolling through content he won't remember in thirty seconds. Behind him, three people are waiting. He doesn't notice. He doesn't care. He's not really there.

This is what we've become.

You see them everywhere now. The man walking through a crowded street, phone six inches from his face, expecting everyone else to navigate around him. The group of friends at dinner, all staring at their own screens instead of each other. The father at the playground, missing his son's first successful climb across the monkey bars because he's checking notifications that don't matter.

Stand at any intersection and count. How many people crossing the street are looking at their phones instead of oncoming traffic?

Watch a train carriage. Rows of people, heads bowed in identical postures of digital worship. Nobody talks. Nobody reads. Nobody thinks. They just scroll. Endlessly.