There’s a whole generation weaned on the digital teat. When I visit my grandfather he’s out behind his cabin in the dead of winter bare barrel chested choppin’ wood with his bare hands, no blade required. Anytime I go see my dad he needs help figuring out why his Wifi keeps going out but his password to connect is seventeen characters long made up of letters, numbers, symbols, and an umlaut. I am a pretty good techie: I can surf the interwebs with the best of them. I enjoy all these newfangled Apps, the occasional binge watch, and I’ll sometimes post some cool stuff on the old Facebooks or Twitterama or Instagramia. I’m no tech newbie. I’ve been around the block. I’ve seen things, fools.
But my son is a different story. He can have six simultaneous screens firing as he plays Fortnite, writes code for his new 3D printer, FaceTimes with his cousin in New Zealand, teaches himself how to play poker via a YouTube tutorial, sells his vast sneaker collection on Ebay, and god only knows what he’s doing on the dark web because his dad doesn’t even know how to access it.
According to my calculations – 8 hours a day of screen time 365 days a year – he’s already blown past the 25,000 hour mark and is well on his way to the 50,000 device time hours before he can legally drive an automobile and the endgame of 100,000 before he can legally drink a beer! And when that happens, as the scientists warn us, he’ll then look like this:
So let’s be clear: this isn’t about me. I don’t give two nanobites about the tech revolution. I could live happy as a clam in an estuary and just nap all day. I remember the days when phones had long twisty cords that would wrap around you and came in handy when you needed to quickly strangle your sister for phone usage seniority. I recall visiting the library and it taking two hours just to locate the correct book to learn about the many practical uses of a medieval battle axe. And that dial up modem sound back when we all used AOL is forever imprinted on my brain. But the time’s they aren’t a changin’, they’ve changed, and there’s no going back.
So nossing might factor in some nostalgia. And we might sometimes come off as big meanies. That’s fine, I’m okay with you all thinking I’m annoying, as long as it keeps you from getting to that 100,000 hour mark, you can thank me later.
Nossing is designed to help you cut the digital drug down into manageable nourishable bites.
For all those out there who think I’m an alarmist, here’s what you’re gonna have to look forward to: an entire generation (and eventually world) who share the creative & social skills of this:
That’s right, a cauliflower head. You’ve been warned.
– The Founder
Nossing 
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