A young tech whiz named Billy visited a remote monastery high in the Himalayas, hoping to find inner peace. He’d heard tales of a “Retro Monk,” a guru famed for his wisdom and utter detachment from the modern world. Finally, he found him – an elderly monk sitting serenely, sifting sand through his fingers.
“Oh, wise Retro Monk!” Billy exclaimed, bowing deeply. “I seek enlightenment! I’m overwhelmed by the constant notifications, the endless scrolling, the pressure of optimizing my life! Tell me, what was life like before apps?”
The monk looked up, a twinkle in his eye. “Ah, the Before Times… a simpler era. If you wished to connect with someone far away, you wrote a letter. It took weeks! The anticipation was exquisite.”
“But what did you do?” Billy pressed. “No Instagram? No TikTok? What occupied your time?”
The monk chuckled. “If we desired entertainment, we created it ourselves! We told stories, sang songs, carved things from wood. Want directions? We asked someone! It was shockingly effective. Life before apps… it was a different beast.”
He paused, stroking his chin. “One time,” the monk began, his eyes gleaming mischievously, “we needed to send a message to a neighboring village, but the messenger was ill. So, we trained a goat. Attached the message to its horns. The goat knew the way. It was brilliant!”
Billy was captivated. “Did it work? Did the goat deliver the message?”
The monk smiled, a wide, toothless grin. “Eventually. But the message was a bit… crumpled. And reeked of goat. Turns out, the goat stopped halfway, ate a portion of the message, and then blamed it on the mountain lion.”
Billy stared, speechless. “A mountain lion?”
The monk nodded. “That’s what the goat said. But the ink on the message clearly tasted of turnips. You see, life before apps… relied on trust. And turnips. Turns out, you can’t trust a goat with turnips…or a message.”
