You’re hard-pressed to believe us sub-pawns really do make the world go round. And I don’t blame you. Look at the state of things in 2025. Ugh.
You turn a corner on any street in the world and bam... McDonald’s and Starbucks tantalizing your taste buds. Search anything online and Google now serves up the same or similar sanitized BS.
Can’t use a map. Make a call. Do a simple calculation without whipping out your trusty iPhone.
Hard to watch a movie or TV show without logging into Netflix, Disney+, Amazon Prime, HBO Max, or just some subscription siphoning off your hard-earned money automatically and in the background.
No matter where you post, it’s either Meta (Facebook, Instagram, WhatsApp), X, or TikTok hosting the convo, their algos nudging you along, making sure you follow their push for a 1984 nightmare Zeitgeist.
And it’s not just about serving you ads anymore—it’s about social engineering, mind-reading algorithms predicting what you’ll say, think, and feel before you even know it yourself.
Wanna just do your job/craft/career/profession in peace? You know, the thing you spent years learning and refining with your human heart, mind, and hard work? Can’t even have that without your company pushing “optimize, optimize, optimize,” forcing AI into your workflow—whether you like it or not. Making you wonder if you’re using AI… or just training what 'they' hope will replace you.
We’ve arrived. This is dystopia.
It just doesn’t seem like it because there are no futuristic neon-soaked cityscapes (some Chinese cities are an exception). No romance story worth watching. No cinematic soundtrack underscoring your day-to-day. Just the drab and seemingly innocuous routine.
Slow-drip corporate memos, layoffs, and an ever-growing pressure to keep up with the machine mind—not your unique mind. Not your soul.
It’s a tale as old as time. And it’s not changing anytime soon–it’s getting exponentially worse.
That's depressing... what do I do?
There is no longer an "I". We're all in this crab boat together as the Bering Sea goes full throttle storm mode. We're all (the actual non-shapeshifting humans) a crew. We need camaraderie.
Togetherness. Compassion. Understanding. A mind as one that refuses the never-ending onslaught of slow-kill attacks.
Their modus operandi is scarcity. So ours must be numbers.
A Chihuahua's face
I was in South Korea this past December and saw a whimsical ad for a tiny hole-in-the-wall pub/anju restaurant. A micro-business tucked into the corner of a peaceful mid-rise residential Daegu neighborhood.
This place was so small and modest that you just had to appreciate its existence—whether or not you ever gave patronage.
The image of this blog is the place in question. Chihuahua advert and all.
I passed it daily during the month I lived there, and it always made me, at the least, smile.
Brilliant simplicity. A somewhat blurred and pixelated smartphone close-up of a goofball Chihuahua, eyes uncoordinated and all.
Before leaving Korea I wanted to eat there at least once. I had to.
We walked in, sat down, and I immediately pointed to the dog pictures plastered all over the walls now on the inside as well.
“사장님, 그 개 진짜 주인이세요?” (Boss, is that dog really yours?)
Trying to hide the chance to talk about his best friend, “네! 제 강아지예요!” (Yes! He’s mine!)
“와, 사장님 이거 진짜 천재적인 광고예요. 너무 웃겨서 잊을 수가 없어요.” (Wow, boss, this is seriously a genius ad. It’s so funny I couldn’t forget it.)
He laughed, with a show the quasi-embarrassment/humbleness combo but clearly proud (Korean trait).
Then throughout our meal he starts loading our table with complimentary food and drink.
Not just some token freebie, either. He gave us, and I'm estimating here, but maybe 25,000KRW (roughly $20 USD) worth of extra stuff—marinated chicken skewers and a tasty no-alcohol-skimping highball.
Is it just me, or does it seem like that those with the least are the most giving?
My guy was running a tiny bar held together with plywood and black paint, probably grinding solo and on the daily to make rent. And here he was, throwing free food at us like I was his first cousin. In South Korea, which, if you don't know is an insanely competitive and cutthroat country to start a business.
I didn’t realize my comment about his Chihuahua would go so far.
So I made sure he knew it was deeply appreciated. He needed the boost, I could tell. Especially because his joint was fairly new.
I left a tip—even though he was surprised and quasi-rejected it at first. And no, it wasn’t some ‘look at me, I’m a money-bags American tipping’ thing.
It was for encouragement.
Because people like this. Like you and me… we get beat up a lot in this life. From the big players, be it corporations, the government, the media, or whatever other entity wants us divided.
So treat small business owners with respect… even when they mess up (this guy didn't I'm just saying).
Our only hope
As we stepped out into the cold night, full and a little buzzed, I looked back at that tiny, plywood-walled bar—just a speck in the tapestry of other restaurants.
THIS is the real world. Not some schnazy Apple Store, corporate boardroom, or algorithm deciding what you should see, buy, or think. Just a guy, his goofy dog, and a simple, brilliant ad that probably cost $30. A tiny act of defiance against the machine in my eyes.
That’s all it ever takes.
So, if you’re wondering what do I do?
- Be a comrade.
- Give when you have little.
- Be proud to be the little guy (including yourself).
- Push back when met with too much bullshit from your boss (anyone).
Because we make the world go round.
Remember: they need our labor, money, and energy – not the other way around – even though the dystopian nightmare tries to convince us otherwise.
Happen to be in Daegu? Show some support.
Go ahead… practice some camaraderie.
Support the owner, his dog, and his pub.
836-4 Hwanggeum-dong
Suseong District
Daegu, South Korea
