Did you have the fortunate grace to breathe and walk in the old world?

What was it like?

Was the grass as green as they say it was?

Did the blades feel soft beneath your bare feet?

Could the cool, crisp air on a Monday morning really lift the weight off your shoulders?

And the water — did it sparkle like scattered diamonds beneath the sun?

Could you taste the purity on your tongue — cold, clean, untouched by memory?

And the sky — was it truly that blue?

The kind of blue that made you believe in forever — in new beginnings untouched by endings?

Or did everything end before you could turn your phone off?

A retrospective signal for the future.

In the midst of the 19th century, humans invented the computer, something they believed would change their lives... that it did.

After the fall of the old world, humanity fled to Mars. What rose in its place is the new world. Everything is artificial. Culture is curated. Feeling is filtered. Real creativity is a relic.

In the year 2075, we will broadcast to this artificial society. The show features original music from Ryan Pandori and other various artists from the old world — those who still created before everything changed.

The things that once moved us — the music, the movies, the games — all created by human hands,

all now a thing of the past.

We became impatient.

Sluggish.

Disinterested in the hard work.

We demanded instant entertainment.

Immediate gratification.

Artificial intelligence stepped in — to do the tasks we didn’t want.

Hell, it even helped build this website.

Why search for the next Picasso,

when the device in your pocket can paint the Guernica in seconds?

It sounds brilliant —

unless you’re an artist.

Because artists, and those who truly feel art,

know what makes art… art.

It’s not the way a brush dances across canvas,

or the grain of film shimmering on the screen.

It’s not the complex chord progression.

It’s the artist.

A human being.

Their soul, their patience, their pain —

woven into something beautiful,

something real,

no matter how long it takes.

In the end, whether you are reading this now or listening after,

This a reminder of who we were —

and who we still could be.