moloch and the machines

I saw the best minds of my generation destroyed by brainrot, gooning doomscrolling bedrotting,

dissociating themselves through the enshittified ragebait clickbait looking for a dopamine fix,

nonchalant doomers repressing the AI overview of the starry dynamo in the machinery of night,

who Kalshi and Rainbet and OnlyFans and Doordash sat up vaping in the ambient glow of slot-machine phones drowning in the depths of 4chan contemplating memes…

---

I’m not going to rewrite any more of Allen Ginsberg’s Howl because it’s already perfect. It’s impossible to read the poem without extending it to yourself and your cultural moment. We’ve all been crushed by the oppressive machinations of conformity and consumerism. What can we do but lash out in creative fury, impaling ourselves on the palisades of modernity?

The most terrifying thing about our alienation and atomization is that it appears inexorable. No matter how we protest, our society will continue blindly optimizing itself into oblivion. With each technological advancement, the vultures circle lower, stripping away the flesh of our humanity to reveal the robotic carcass beneath.

In part II of his poem, Ginsberg portrays this culture of industrial progress as Moloch, an ancient deity associated with child sacrifice. Those who worship Moloch have access to power and prosperity, but their participation contributes to an evil demonic practice. Howl screams out that modern society is doing the same thing.

As a social media influencer, I try to be acutely aware of how the algorithm creates its own “banality of evil,” channeling our natural human impulses in a negative direction. I want to inspire people to challenge these structures and pursue meaning, but I know that I’m also worshipping Moloch, contributing to the dopamine slot machine myself.

Every once in a while, I’ll get stopped in the street by a fan. Sometimes they tell me that I inspired them to study linguistics. This is the best compliment I can get. Other times, they tell me I’m the only reason they stay on YouTube Shorts, and that’s the worst insult I can get.

To be on social media is to accept this paradox: we know that algorithms can be used for good, but we also know that the overall structure is evil. I mostly reconcile this tension by using my videos to push people toward my writings and lectures, and hopefully giving them the tools to be curious by themselves.

I’ve also been spending a lot of time with the New York City Neo-Luddite movement, who have their own way of rejecting Moloch. The Luddite organizing praxis revolves around the idea that “the event is the medium.” It’s one thing to write a substack thinkpiece about how we should build community, and it’s another thing to just do it. By hosting an event, you are making something happen outside of the oversaturated, hypermediated world of the internet, and that’s the best possible way of making more events happen.

I’ve voiced specific criticisms about the Luddites before, but I strongly agree that we just have to make things happen. Sometimes you have to HOWL, and get other people howling, which is why I’m working with the Luddites to co-host a mass reading of “Howl” in Washington Square Park on Monday, May 4, at 5:30 pm. Everyone is welcome, and if you can’t make it, please read the poem as assigned reading.

I’m with you in Rockland.

I’m with you in Rockland.

I’m with you in Rockland.

I’m with you in Rockland.

-Adam