Exit from Eden: Virtual Retreat

What if you achieve the future you always wanted, and find it empty?

The advent of Generative AI, with the new* video models able to reproduce video at scale is bringing with it an unexpected reaction from the digital native generations (Millenials and Gen Z): retreat.

The erosion of trust that has come from the rampant use of GenAI in a post-truth era that was already struggling to reflect objective reality has resulted in a rejection of the online devices and smartphones that they have grown up with, taking up analog pursuits – some of which were cultivated during the early stages of the Covid-19 response – along with a desire for the Dial-Up Pastorale (from back in Episode 34).

It isn’t a full blown retreat from the virtual just yet, but the signs are there. Those most sensitive to the coming changes taking the first steps away from online life.

It is a rejection of the “Exodus to the Virtual” that was anticipated back in 2007 by Edward Castranova, and similar observations that were echoed during that era of massive growth in popularity of MMOs and virtual worlds.

Exodus to the Virtual (2007) was Castranova’s follow-up to his work on Synthetic Worlds (2005) which was an analysis of the MMORPG Everquest through an economic lens. In Exodus, Castranova positioned himself on the crest of the wave of the hype cycle for MMOs, hypothesizing that the economies of these places, built on fun, would be attractive enough to entice people to migrate to them and spend most of their time online within these environments.

There are many ways that this hypothesis was colossally wrong.

Eighteen years later, that projected exodus is all but gone. Even though consumer VR hardware is more available, accessible, and consumer friendly, the desire to take that path has withdrawn for more of the population, either no longer having the means to undertake the exodus or rejecting it wholesale.

Where can this rejection be seen? It’s there, on social media, in the subtext of the wry comments of those claiming “the internet was a mistake” with every new “advancement” in technology or viral trend that escapes containment. But it is also there, more explicitly, in the claims and calls to action of the Digital Natives, TikTok posts steadily gaining more views and likes, claiming that they’re done and walking away from the internet, a claim they assert will definitely happen if they can no longer discern truth from unreality thanks to the next iteration in generative AI.

There’s a paradox here, where those who have already noped out of the virtual won’t be posting about it too much on social media (obviously), but there is a brief window where they may leave traces – evangelizing about their choices the way only a vegan crossfitter can, or talking themselves up to final leaving it behind, and trying to convince others to join them.

This rejection of a future imaginary – even the few drops that are starting now, signs of the damn beginning to leak, sweating through before it buckles and breaks unleashing the torrent that bursts its way through – is rare, though not unknown, as we have collectively stepped back from other imagined futures before, with the waning of the nuclear age that dominated half the 20th century.

It’s also a pitch correction, or rather pitch rejection as the sale of the commodified self loses its luster and sheen, only begrudgingly uptaken by those who need it for work, or those too young to recognize the gilt for the thing covering of glitter that it is.

So the retreat is underway, those stepping away from the din and fray of the online battledomes quietly slipping out, and others starting to notice them in their absence. And much like in a battle where it only takes a few to break before a full on rout is underway, we may soon see this happen en masse. It may not take an oracle to predict it, but an Oracle may be involved all the same.

*: as of October 2025 – Google Sora 2

WYCU Revised

With Predator: Killer of Killers coming out this weekend, I’ve started in the rewatch of the movies, beginning with 2022’s Prey (which is fantastic; more on this later). The prep has necessitated a slight revision to the WYCU timeline, which we talked about here.

Adding in the new releases, plus the Blade Runner franchise and the chronological year, and our WYCU now looks like this:

WCYU Chronology (revised)

TitlePublication Year‘VerseChrono YearChrono Order
Prometheus *2012A0?1
Prey2022P17192
Predator: Killer of Killers2025P1500/1800/19433
Predator1987P19874
Predator 21990P19975
Alien v Predator2004X20046
Alien v Predator: Requiem2007X20047
Predators2010P20108
The Predator2018P20189
Blade Runner1982B201910
Soldier1998B203611
Blade Runner 20492017B204912
Predator: Badlands***2025P???13
Prometheus **2012A209314
Alien: Covenant2017A210415
Alien: Earth2025A???16
Alien1979A212217
Alien: Romulus2024A214218
Aliens1986A217919
Alien31992A217920
Alien: Resurrection1997A238121

Absolute Martian Manhunter #1 (2025)

Heard good things, so a chance stop at my FLCBS netted me this:

Absolute Martian Manhunter #1 (2025)

…and it’s good. I like the vibe, which reminds me of the more unique titles from Marvel’s Epic or DC’s Vertigo lines from bird (which is my only real reference when it comes to comics).

The 6-issue limited series by Camp and Rodriguez suits me too. It does likely mean this will come out as a trade at some point, but I can grab the monthlies and enjoy them.

We’ll talk about it as we go. More soon.

Where have the mixtapes gone?

“How did we find new music back in the day?” This question was making the rounds on one of the social media sites the other day, and it got me thinking. Partly because of my own return to purchasing music directly over the past year, and partly due to our ongoing engagement with nostalgia culture (which we talked about at length last summer – see the Nostalgia Curve series).

And of course, as with all things millenial and younger on social media, “back in the day” is some combination of “before the internet” and “last century”.

Rude!

The answer is a little simpler though: papers and zines, word of mouth, and mixtapes. The print media still exists, even if it’s not nearly as influential or dominant as it was in the past (and we can get into a bit of the history of the local magazines like Vox or Brave Words and Bloody Knuckles, and how they were foundational for the various scenes in the 1990s), but the mix-tape seems to have fallen largely by the wayside.

Punk-O-Rama III (1998, Epitaph records)
Punk-O-Rama III (1998, Epitaph records) – Back cover and tracklist

Of course “mixtape” is a term that encapsulates the platonic ideal of what was shared. A lot of mixtapes were compilation CDs (above) and LPs (below) too. Often this was arranged by the label, to feature singles of as much of their talent as possible*, as with the Epitaph “Punk-O-Rama” series, with Volume III shown above. But pre-internet (or at least, before music on the internet became widely accessible, and 1998’s Punk-O-Rama III was right on the cusp of that), it was one of the reliable ways for a young lad to check out a lot of bands, or even just get a single you were looking for. Distribution wasn’t great “back in the day” either, and a lot of times you were stuck with that you could get your hands on.

Rock Sizzlers (1984, Polystar)
Rock Sizzlers (1984, Polystar) – Back cover and tracklist

And what you could get your hands on was wildly erratic. Witness 1984’s Rock Sizzlers, from Polystar above. A mix of top 40 hits, movie soundtrack singles (Flashdance apparently being popular back then. You can tell by the inclusion of – you guessed it – Frank Stallone), some rock singles, and some pure pop. Modern English, Kiss, Soft Cell, Agnetha Faltskog, and more). That is as eclectic a mix as has every been dreamed up by the writers for a SCTV spoof sketch. Often the mixtapes would be more on theme:

Nutty Numbers (1978, Ktel)
Nutty Numbers (1978, Ktel) – BC and tracklist

…such as 1978’s Nutty Numbers, by Ktel, a collection of comedy and novelty songs with a cute cartoon cover. (I may have overplayed this one more than is healthy for a young developing mind. However, I’m sure modern parents that are all too far aware of Bluey can understand.)…

Canadian Mint (1974, Ktel)
Canadian Mint (1974, Ktel) – BC and tracklist

… or 1974’s Canadian Mint, also from Ktel, a collection of early seventies singles from what I imagine are Canadian artists. To be honest, I’m not entirely sure, as while I recognize BTO and Chilliwack and The Stampeders from the mandatory replays on Canadian Classic Rock Radio, many of the rest I’ve never heard of at all.

Regardless of the source, the Ktel records shown here shown at least the hints of a theme, of a selection criteria at work, and so are examples of what I like to call “commodified curation“. (We will be talking more about that in a month or so, so right now that’s a bit of a placeholder). This curatorial aspect is key, “back in the day” as it is now. One of the things lamented and lost in this era of algorithmic delivery of content tuned to your interests and needs is that “human touch”. And though this may occasionally allow for moments of serendipity and discovery, more often than not it feeds us more of the same, “variations on a theme”.

Of course when it comes to mixtapes, the actual mixtapes represented one of earlier forms of social media – shared and spreadable between friends, or traded via PO boxes and mail envelopes through addresses listed in the back of the aforementioned zines. Or perhaps the mixtapes are simply the last of the analog social media, along with the other tape traders – both VHS and Beta – of Wrestling and Anime and other more salacious content:

“White and Nerdy” (Yankovic, 2006)

Regardless, the mixtape era represent something lost, something concrete and knowable, a discrete snapshot of a time, place, theme, or choice, plucked out of the endless river of our culture, and fixed in time, as opposed to the eternal now of the digital streams.

There are signs this is changing however. We’ll follow up on this soon.


*: Which makes me think of record labels in terms of wrestling promotions, and hmm, I’m sent. I’m not going to let this analogy die. I need to dig into this one further.

The Worst Movie in the World

Where do bad ideas come from? Here’s one:

Dave (1993, D: Ivan Reitman)

In the mid-90s this seemingly harmless film would make the rotation on cable channels often enough that I saw this on a handful of occasions. It appeared to be a relatively harmless confection, overly saccharine and sweet, a little bit corny, a fantasy idea of how the world works, a modern retelling of the Prince and the Pauper fairy tale.

In other words, the perfect concoction to deliver some toxic material.

In this case, the toxic material comes in a scene near the end of act 2, as the pauper “Dave” in the guise of the prince gets to work doing a line-by-line review of budget items.

Any resemblance to current events is purely coincidental.

What the movie suggested is that something as complex as the budget of a modern nation-state can be managed at this level, that that’s all it would take. A complete fantasy.

But this is the sort of meme that grows and spreads, and ends up becoming embedded in out culture. And toxic memes are very, very hard to dislodge once they get to that state.

Coming in May this year, we’re going to do a deep dive into where bad ideas come from, how they spread, and how they get embedded in the zeitgeist. We’ve got a few themes locked up for our Bad Ideas series already:

  • The Worst Movie in the World: Bad Movies
  • Is This a Joke to You?: Bad Comedy
  • Dank Memes
  • (and perhaps one or two surprises)

Why May? Well, we have a four episode block on cyberspace coming up next on the podcast, followed by an Andor Season 1 vibe recap which should wrap just in time for Season 2, at which point we’ll dig into this Bad Idea Theater.

Stay tuned!