things-have-changed
Original: things-have-changed on Saturday Morning Breakfast Cereal
Transcript
Panel 1
Man with glasses: I dunno. I don't wanna be one of those people who think everything got worse around the time he hit his mid-twenties.
Panel 2
Man with glasses: But I just feel like this giant all-seeing eyeball that floats above us night and day sort of changed things?
Panel 3
Man with glasses: It makes me feel connected.
Panel 4
Man with glasses: But weren't people connected before the eyeball came? I mean, I am not connected to everyone else all the time, but people knew about local trees, seasons, tides.
Panel 5
Man with glasses: Like two hundred years ago you knew spring was coming because a certain bird sang. Go. If you ever traveled in a long way away, you would meet someone, and they could tell you that spring bird, and they could talk about it.
Panel 6
Man with glasses: That feels like connection to me!
Panel 7
Man with glasses: But the all-seeing eee gee gee all it can tell us is where the best birds are, and the best foods and best places, and by relentlessly seeking those things we can be happier and happier.
Panel 8
Man with glasses: Yeah.
Panel 9 (a giant all-seeing eyeball floats in a dark night sky above a city skyline)
Panel 10
Man with glasses: So you're happy?
Panel 11
Off-panel voice (the eyeball): Not me in particular, but society must be.
Votey:
A single large all-seeing eyeball, white sclera with a golden-yellow iris and black pupil, shown in close-up. No text.
Man with glasses: I dunno. I don't wanna be one of those people who think everything got worse around the time he hit his mid-twenties.
Panel 2
Man with glasses: But I just feel like this giant all-seeing eyeball that floats above us night and day sort of changed things?
Panel 3
Man with glasses: It makes me feel connected.
Panel 4
Man with glasses: But weren't people connected before the eyeball came? I mean, I am not connected to everyone else all the time, but people knew about local trees, seasons, tides.
Panel 5
Man with glasses: Like two hundred years ago you knew spring was coming because a certain bird sang. Go. If you ever traveled in a long way away, you would meet someone, and they could tell you that spring bird, and they could talk about it.
Panel 6
Man with glasses: That feels like connection to me!
Panel 7
Man with glasses: But the all-seeing eee gee gee all it can tell us is where the best birds are, and the best foods and best places, and by relentlessly seeking those things we can be happier and happier.
Panel 8
Man with glasses: Yeah.
Panel 9 (a giant all-seeing eyeball floats in a dark night sky above a city skyline)
Panel 10
Man with glasses: So you're happy?
Panel 11
Off-panel voice (the eyeball): Not me in particular, but society must be.
Votey:
A single large all-seeing eyeball, white sclera with a golden-yellow iris and black pupil, shown in close-up. No text.
Alt text
A man in glasses talks anxiously across eleven panels about a giant all-seeing eyeball that floats in the sky above the city day and night. He worries he's become 'one of those people' who think everything got worse since his mid-twenties, but says the eyeball changed things. It makes him feel connected, yet he wonders whether people weren't already connected before it, through knowledge of local trees, seasons, and tides, or how two hundred years ago a traveler could bond with a stranger over the same spring bird. Panel 9 shows the enormous eyeball hovering over a dark city skyline. He concludes the eyeball only tells everyone where the best birds, foods, and places are, so people can relentlessly seek them and get happier and happier. He asks, 'So you're happy?' A voice (the eyeball) replies, 'Not me in particular, but society must be.' Votey: a close-up of the single all-seeing eyeball, white with a golden-yellow iris and black pupil, drawn alone with no text.
Transcribed by Claude Opus 4.8.