Still can’t get no satisfaction

Twice as many Americans now take anti-depressants than 12 years ago, reported Reuters news agency.

When we really grasp human life with its emotion, absurdity and adrenaline, it’s really not so shocking that amid our technological wonders, we remain unsatisfied.

Just because we command robots, horseless carriages and satellites, doesn’t mean we left behind the reptilian brain buried deep within us.

We are lizards stepping on escalators, elevating to the sky in steel boxes, and pretending that we — like those in the Tower of Babel – can create our own Designer Heaven.

But our gadgets advance faster than our intellect. And our emotions remain firmly rooted in our brain stem, still yearning for “primitive” human contact and an order beyond our own civilization.

So arrive pharmaceutical concoctions, modern potions, to remedy the neuroses of modernity.

Modern society no longer worries much about dying from hunger, infection, or plague. Rather we worry about an elusive void.

In older times, they were closer to death, which kept them closer to God.

Our lack of a real threat gives rise to imagined threats, an obsessive-compulsive spiral keeping psychologists brimming with clients.

And the better our toys get, the harder it is to grasp why we aren’t always happy. We have digitally animated movies telling the tales that used to only come from the lips of the town storyteller.

We have the finest selection of food and drink in the history of humanity, mass-produced tastes filling endless isles.

We have handheld devices that can navigate for us, talk to someone on the other side of the earth, and in many cases see them too.

There’s so much instant gratification, it kills us when we’re not gratified.

So we take pills that tell our brains we feel ok, because we’re supposed to feel ok. It’s the modern age, and everyone’s ok.

It’s been said that luxury once tasted becomes necessity.  The boundless scope of our luxuries – both intellectually and materially – were the visions of futurists and science fiction writer’s merely a century ago. Today they are expectations of everyday life.

That’s a lot for a lizard to grasp.