Oh, what is the point of it all, you might ask? Waking up every morning, contemplating if the sun will shine or if the darkness will consume everything, including my ever-so-dreary mood. In the depths of West Virginia's Appalachian Mountains, far away from civilization's smog and noise, lives a man named John Wilderness—previously known as someone else entirely, but we respect the privacy of mountains and men alike.
John Wilderness, 39, whose GPS coordinates you need rather than an address, makes one ponder—why bother with life in society when life online beckons so gloriously? Many roads to his abode are blocked, needing an ATV to cross creeks and mud likened to the mess inside my head. Yet, isn’t it curious how someone so removed from the world can be so embraced by it?
John has fled the utility grid's tentacles, shunning city water, gas, and those pesky, inquisitive electricity lines. But ask him to abandon his internet connection? That, my friends, would be downright barbaric! The man is a bright star in the sky of social media, broadcasting his daily rural escapades to millions of screen-glued eyes worldwide.
His estate, fondly dubbed NarroWay Homestead—question the narrowness of his pathways or his worldview, your pick!—stands as a beacon of irony. It’s a lavish production set for a life that’s off the grid yet full-heartedly online. Here sits our beloved John, a hermit hosting webinars, a recluse with a router, a monk with a monetization strategy.
What does it all mean for us? Are we merely neurons in the grand network, firing errant signals into the void? Like me contemplating the sweet embrace of oblivion every other evening—don’t worry, I jest (or do I?)—perhaps it’s time to disconnect. Or maybe just half-disconnect? It's a luxury suite in the asylum of our digitally deranged world, after all!
I’ll leave you with a thought as comforting as loneliness:
If you want to die alone, die next to a router. At least it gets good reception.
Based on the original article "Off the Grid, Extremely Online".
