The friend business

Just met a bunch of converts to Camp No Counselors.

The social world is now being app-ified.

Men’s groups, authentic relating groups, life-party think-healthy groups, Law of Attraction groups. And outside here are four people who just met at this camp. “No phones allowed!” they tell me, wide-eyed with surprise at such a wise move by the camp. Then, suddenly, they raise their beers and cheer: “Looks good, looks great!”

The camp force people to have authentic interaction. For instance, you’re not allowed to ask people what they do (for a living).

I was stunned. Is there nothing in the human realm that cannot be lined with value scraping cilia?

The public square became a shopping mall—which is just a concrete forest lined with kiosk-cilia that pull you towards humans who have been specially programmed to trade a commodity for your money.

The kiosks are gorgeous. Some excrete steam of teriyaki into the air. (The Whole Foods mothership here in Austin pumps BBQ smoke into the parking garage.) Kiosks may contain colorful lights, or sexy fonts, or young bodies made of ripped fishnet and heavy eye-liner.

Or 10 foot tall soft-sexy-beautiful black-and-white facial photos. You see those at the cosmetics kiosks.

Or giant bins of Skittle-like Legos.

In any case, you move towards particular blob of cilia and secrete money for a commodity with an exchange robot. That is the bottom line of all this beautification.

Tonight I have learned that what used to be a social get-together has now been restructured as a weekend-long summer camp for adults. The weekend outing with your family (or extended family, or bowling team) is now available for purchase. At a kiosk. Online.

The humans that used to accrue around us due to shared experience inside the earnestness and necessity of substantial life can now be summoned on a per-weekend basis.

Friend prostitution! Japan has had it for decades. Fake husbands and fake wives and even fake children—actors who dress the part and visit the lonely elderly and recite rehearsed memories.

The good is getting ever-easier to come by.