People his age have new assumptions. They’ve grown up believing in the orbiting eye, the subdermal microchip, the circling drone, and they’re no more afraid of them than they are moonlight. Perhaps that’s because they’re born onstage, these creatures, and the first thing they see is the snout of Daddy’s Handycam. Their first steps, their first words, their first Little League at-bats are all directed toward the lens. In time, they have nothing inside them that hasn’t been outside. No depths. No interiors.

from “The Unbinding” by Walter Kirn