The little guys make the world go round. It might not seem like it, but they do. But who is ‘they’?
‘They’ are you and me.
Hard to believe in the face of dystopia
You’re hard-pressed to believe us sub-pawns really do make the world go round. And I don’t blame you. Look at the state of things: Massive conglomerates dominate all markets.
You can’t turn a corner on any street in the world without identical-tasting McDonald’s and Starbucks tantalizing your taste buds. You can’t search anything online without it leading to something Google.
Can’t use a map. Make a call. Do a simple calculation without whipping out your prized Apple or Samsung device.
Hard to watch a movie or TV show without logging into Netflix, Disney+, Amazon Prime, or HBO Max. Even independent films get swallowed up by these giants.
No matter where you post, it’s either Meta (Facebook, Instagram, WhatsApp), X, or TikTok hosting the convo, their ever-present algorithms nudging you along, making sure you follow their desired Zeitgeist.
And it’s not just about serving you ads anymore—it’s about social engineering, mind-reading algorithms predicting what you’ll say, think, and feel before you even know it yourself.
Algorithms that are, quite literally, rotting the youth’s (everyone’s) brain with the aptly named ‘brain rot.’
Wanna shop online? It’s either Amazon or a store that uses Amazon’s infrastructure. Even physical stores struggle to escape its logistics.
Wanna just do your job/craft/career/profession in peace? You know, the thing you spent years learning and refining with your human mind and hard work? Can’t even have that anymore without your company pushing “optimize, optimize, optimize,” forcing AI into your workflow—whether you like it or not. Making you wonder if you’re using AI… or training your replacement.
Screw “things feel dystopian.” We’re already here. We’ve arrived. This is dystopia.
It just doesn’t seem like it because there are no neon-soaked cityscapes (some Chinese cities are an exception). No romance story worth watching. No cinematic soundtrack underscoring your day-to-day. Just the drab and seemingly innocuous routine.
Slow-drip corporate memos, layoffs, and an ever-growing pressure to keep up with the machine mind—not your unique mind. Not your soul.
It’s a tale as old as time. And it’s not changing anytime soon–it’s getting exponentially worse.
That’s depressing, Dan. What do I do?
I don’t have all the answers, and, as the old saying goes, don’t shoot the messenger.
But I do know ONE thing we need: camaraderie.
Togetherness. Compassion. Understanding. A mind as one that refuses the never-ending onslaught of junk they try to kill us with.
Their modus operandi is scarcity. So ours must be power in numbers.
Fat chance that happens, though—but I am just attempting to answer the question.
A Chihuahua’s face.
I was in South Korea this past December and saw a hilarious advertisement for a tiny hole-in-the-wall pub/anju restaurant tucked into the corner of a peaceful mid-rise residential neighborhood (as opposed to the usual massive, towering high-rises).
This place was so small and modest that you just had to appreciate its existence—whether or not you ever dined there.
The image of this blog is the place in question. Chihuahua advert and all.
I passed it daily during the month I lived there, and it always made me laugh.
How simply brilliant of an ad it was. Just a slightly blurry, pixelated iPhone picture of a close-up of a goofy chihuahua’s face a close-up, eyes uncoordinated and all.
So… one day, towards the end of my stay, I said, ‘I have to eat there before I leave’ to support this small business.
We walked in, sat down, and I immediately pointed to the dog pictures plastered all over the walls now on the INSIDE too.
“사장님, 그 개 진짜 주인이세요?” (Boss, is that dog really yours?)
His face lit up. “네! 제 강아지예요!” (Yes! He’s mine!)
The guy was trying to hide his beaming when I told him, more or less:
“와, 사장님 이거 진짜 천재적인 광고예요. 너무 웃겨서 잊을 수가 없어요.” (Wow, boss, this is seriously a genius ad. It’s so funny I couldn’t forget it.)
He laughed, a little embarrassed (a Korean trait) but clearly proud.
Then, throughout our meal—he starts loading our table with complimentary food and drink.
Not just some token freebie, either. He gave us at least 25,000KRW ($20) worth of extra stuff—marinated chicken skewers and a damn good highball.
And that’s what gets me—those with very little are the most giving. If my saying that draws ire from those with a lot. Well. Maybe look within and don’t immediately call me wrong.
It’s just one of the many facts about life on this inverted planet.
But when it comes to independently owned businesses in South Korea, this is especially true.
You see… South Korea is notorious for being dominated by big conglomerates. Chaebols run a large % of the economy—Samsung, Hyundai, Lotte, SK, LG, and some others. This includes franchise restaurants and cafes that have hundreds, sometimes thousands, of locations throughout the country. And my guess is they probably take a huge cut from the individuals who run them. It’s tough. Cutthroat, even.
You see many restaurants or coffee shops one month could be gone the next.
While this place seemed totally independent, he’s surrounded by formidable franchises–all with established names, marketing, and branding.
My guy was running a tiny bar held together with plywood and black paint, probably grinding solo and on the daily to make rent. And here he was, throwing free food at us like I was his first cousin.
I didn’t realize my comment about his Chihuahua would go so far.
So I made sure he knew it was deeply appreciated. He needed the boost, I could tell. Especially because his joint was fairly new.
I left a tip—even though he was surprised and quasi-rejected it at first. And no, it wasn’t some ‘look at me, I’m a money-bags American tipping’ thing.
It was for encouragement.
Because people like this. Like you and me… we get beat up a lot in this life. From the big players, be it corporations, the government, the media, or whatever other entity wants us divided.
Treat small business owners with respect… even when they mess up.
Our only hope
As we stepped out into the cold night, full and a little buzzed, I looked back at that tiny, plywood-walled bar—just a speck in the tapestry of other restaurants.
THIS is the real world. Not some schnazy Apple Store, corporate boardroom, or algorithm deciding what you should see, buy, or think. Just a guy, his goofy dog, and a simple, brilliant ad that probably cost $30. A tiny act of defiance against the machine in my eyes.
That’s all it ever takes.
So, if you’re wondering what do I do?
- Be a comrade.
- Give when you have little.
- Be proud to be the little guy (including yourself).
- Push back when met with too much bullshit from your boss (anyone).
Because we make the world go round.
Remember: they need OUR labor, money, and energy – not the other way around – even though the dystopian nightmare tries to convince us otherwise.
Act according to that. And fuck the rest.
Traveling to or already in
Daegu, South Korea?
Go ahead… practice some camaraderie.
Support the owner, his dog, and his pub.
836-4 Hwanggeum-dong
Suseong District
Daegu, South Korea
