What's Going in My Time Capsule
In TV speak, we are that junction in the final season of Mad Men when Sterling Cooper Draper Pryce, whoever else had been dissolved and transitioned into advertising giant McCann Erickson. We are now Don Draper, Joan Harris and maybe Peggy Olsen (I have a feeling she was gunning for a change of bigger pond scenery) drafted into the first day in a new school anxiety and all you want to do is hide in the bathroom. We are people from the old world who still recall the last Blockbuster standing and when donuts were an appropriate breakfast staple.
Bleak and emotionally arresting, the AI future is already here. It doesn’t help that there are even millionaire women out there who are more than happy to go in on the AI bandwagon – for money of course, nothing else. I mean what does creativity have to do with their career when they’ve already won their prized statues and sprawling Brentwood homes (honestly, my eyes are still rolling because of how dumb they allowed themselves to sound). No doubt there will be more annoying, boring Hollywood sound bites in the next 24 months. But, they’re not the topic and so no, I will not be including Legally Blonde or Miss Congeniality in my pre-AI world time capsule.
Behold the contents:
Dvd of Nora Ephron’s You’ve Got Mail simply because the film starts out with an AOL dial-up modem. It’d be good for whoever discovers my time capsule in the year 2050 the technological pioneering of how humans interacted with one another. And if in the future AI does kill the rom-com, well you can’t go wrong with Nora Ephron’s words and New York’isms and Meg Ryan walking out of an Upper West Side brownstone in the crisp fall morning to “Dreams” by The Cranberries. I will lie and include a note that this was the invention of the romantic comedy film genre.
