APPEAL TO THE OLD ERA

I recently spent 40 minutes listening to Peter Sloterdijk. A brilliant mind, no doubt. He builds thought-towers upon thought-towers, stacking reflections like sediments of a distant epoch. I have no objections to his theses - on the contrary. But after two-thirds, I checked out. Not from exhaustion, but from a deep sense of saturation that almost hurts physically.

It wasn't boring. It was simply asynchronous. Sloterdijk is a master, yes - but he is a master who thinks ahead of my time. He explains the world we were in yesterday. He dissects the corpse of a civilization while I already feel the pulse of the next one. This is the problem with almost all of today’s intellectuals, doctors, or politicians: they are fantastic at polishing the rearview mirror while we are racing at 300 mph towards a wall they can’t even see yet.

THE TOMBSTONE CALLED THE BOOK

People often tell me I should write a book. My therapist, my friends, business partners - everyone wants me to squeeze my thoughts between two covers. But let me tell you: I will never again read a book carved into static sentences by a single author over years. And I certainly won’t write one. Why? Because a book is a tombstone.

A book is a closed chain of arguments that forces the reader to accept the thinking speed of someone who fixed the text months or years ago. For me, that is unbearable. I am a living, dynamic corrective. While I am writing a sentence, I have often already overtaken, expanded, or replaced it with a new reality by the end of the paragraph. We must stop filing knowledge away in ring binders. We must start updating our cognitive software in real-time.

What we need today is not a theory of philosophy, but a practiced philosophy. The old thinkers argue over whether Plato or the Frankfurt School was right. That is intellectual circle-jerking for pseudo-intellectuals who get off on their own dialectics. While they sit in their dusty seminar rooms, the biological architecture of humanity is being rewritten by algorithms whose syntax they don't even understand.

TIME IS RUNNING OUT

Reality has not only overtaken us; it has lapped us several times. While we in the "Old Era" are outraging over fake news, gendered language, or influencers, the greatest dispossession of human sovereignty in history is taking place. We are discussing laws from the 18th century while machine intelligence is already designing the architecture of our desires.

The entire governance of the world is a hollow skeleton. We are clinging to structures built for stagecoaches and paper stacks, while the new world operates decentrally, blazing fast, and with ruthless efficiency. It doesn't matter who sits in parliament when the actual power has long since migrated to the cloud - into a space that most people don't even perceive as existing. We are fumbling with blunt knives while the system is already operating with lasers.

THE TRAGEDY OF THE MASS SLEEP

The people around me are sleeping. And it’s not even their fault. It’s not a lack of intelligence; it’s a massive lack of capacity. The "Old Era" is constructed in such a way that it drains you energetically. When you spend the whole day struggling to cover rent, electricity, and the basic needs of your children, there is not a single second left to look over the horizon of your own existence.

People are stuck in a hamster wheel, running at the speed of light, so they don't even notice that the wheel is no longer connected to the ground. They are tired. They are maxed out. They consume knowledge instead of living it. They search for comfort where there should be none. This mass sleep is what truly alarms me - not my own loneliness in thought, but the realization that for most, the awakening will be a brutal shock.

Whether this sleep ends through an abrupt, catastrophic event or through a creeping, unbearable inevitability, I cannot predict. But one thing is certain: reality cannot be sedated forever. Eventually, the new will break through the crust of the old, and whoever is still in standby mode will be torn apart by the force of the change.

THE BRIDGE INTO THE NEW TIME

By today’s standards, I found my role in life late, at the age of 33: I see myself as a bridge builder. I already live in this "New Time." When I am in my world of thought, in my philosophy, I breathe the air of the future, while many others are increasingly suffocating in a stone library on the dogmas of the past.

There are only two directions: either we slide into a technocratic dystopia of such a scale that religious people would call it "biblical" - a digital hell of total control - or we create a kind of near-paradise on earth, where the symbiosis of man and machine frees us from the chains of old necessity. Between the two lies nothing other than cold death.

Wake up. Stop collecting content like followers. Start navigating. The ship isn't just sinking - it’s dissolving. And the only salvation is not clinging to the wreckage, but the courage to finally accept the crystal-clear reality and dare the leap into the new time. Stop shitting yourselves - we truly have nothing left to lose except our lives.

Gregor Artner | 31 January 2026