What am I living my life for?
Life is hidden in logistics...
In inverse proportion to the increase in the range of goods, we can purchase and have, our knowledge about the origins of goods has diminished to an almost obscure degree.
Currently, we can actually get a lot of things, but we can't imagine what the manufacturing and distribution process of things is like.
This alienation process deprives us of countless opportunities to experience wonder, gratitude, and guilt.
Logistics is a business field that occupies a key place in this imaginary poverty and actual abundance.
A site that seems to be determined to look boring,
These are buildings that seem to have no interest in the possibility of architectural problems. Only size matters.
Looking at the bleak exterior of a logistics hub made up of one mass, we can't help but be confused about the importance of the scene unfolding before our eyes.
It would be reckless to leave a large piece of the earth carelessly in the interests of a real estate company, while easily accepting that the Urinu Museum could spend a fortune on an early Dutch religious painting the size of a hardcover that was about to break. Don't do things like you think.
It would be foolish to describe a logistics hub simply as ugly. This is because there is a terrifying beauty, a soulless and flawless beauty that characterizes many workshops in the modern world.
The processing of work, which is characteristic of the logistics complex, is most transparent at night time.
In the past, the night was a time when members of our species crouched together to acknowledge their physical limitations and to allay their fears of ghosts and witches. But today's logistics hubs never make concessions to human frailty, to the spiritual world, or to any of the natural rhythms that have enjoyed primary status.
The item waits to go to its ambiguous destination marked with a number.
It could be a cathedral city boasting a theatre and a brewery, it could be the seat of the parliamentary army when Charles I fought with Parliament, or it could be a great Georgian square.
Humans, once divided into rice eaters and wheat eaters, potato eaters and corn eaters based on the category of 'meal' almost as distinctly as religious ones, now fill their stomachs with miscellaneous things without thinking.
Time is key.
Tomatoes, which have been dangling on vines, lusciously ripe in the fields over the weekend, are changing the fate imposed by nature to find buyers for them on the northern edge of Scotland before Thursday.
This blind impatience is also revealed in the fruit section. Our ancestors would have rejoiced when they occasionally found a handful of strawberries under the bushes in late summer, as an unexpected sign of the Creator's generosity. But in modern times, instead of waiting for the occasional gift of heaven, we try to transform the pleasant sensations into direct and repeatable use.
This gigantic food warehouse is proof that, at least in the industrialized world, we humans are, after thousands of years of hard work, finally the only animals out of the struggle for where to find our next meal. It has given me time to learn Swedish, learn calculus, and worry about the sincerity of our relationship, freed from desperate food worries.
Our affluent world is not the lively place our famine-stricken medieval ancestors dreamed of. The best minds of our time spend most of their lives simplifying or accelerating absurdly banal functions.
We can see the price we pay for our daily submission before the altar of self-control and order.
Outwardly, he obeys the law better than ever before and lives a docile life, but his anger is accumulating silently below.
The everyday philosopher Alain de Button,
I met the philosophy of life contained in the word logistics from various perspectives.
What am I running towards, where am I running...
I find myself sinking into unreasonable, natural obedience again.
What am I living my life for?
Comments
Post a Comment