The Internet is so big, so powerful and pointless that for some

Hear, O child of the new age, the warning spoken by Andrew Brown: “The Internet is so big, so powerful and pointless that for some people it is a complete substitute for life.” These words are not idle, but thunder spoken into the heart of our generation, which has bound itself to glowing screens and invisible webs. They speak of a paradox: a tool vast beyond measure, filled with voices and knowledge, yet often hollow, offering shadows in place of substance, and illusion in place of reality.

Consider the first truth: the Internet is so big that no mind can contain it. It stretches like the sea, endless and ever-expanding, filled with islands of wisdom and reefs of folly. Men cast their nets into it, and some return with treasures of learning, while others draw up only weeds of distraction. Its very vastness can overwhelm, drowning the soul in too much, until the heart forgets what is near and real.

Next, behold its powerful nature. It moves nations, topples kings, spreads ideas faster than the wind scatters seeds. It has lifted up voices once silenced and has united distant hearts in moments of wonder. Yet power without wisdom is a dangerous gift. For the same waves that carry truth also carry lies; the same bridges that connect also deceive, luring men into traps of vanity, envy, and endless comparison.

But hear the sharpest cut of Brown’s words: that it is also pointless. Not in the sense of useless, for the Internet holds tools of great value, but in the sense that it lacks inherent direction. It is a mirror reflecting back the desires of those who use it. Thus, for some, it becomes a garden of learning, of creation, of righteous connection. For others, it becomes a pit, swallowing hours, days, and years, until they mistake its flickering shadows for the substance of true life.

History teaches us this lesson well. Recall the story of Narcissus from the ancient Greeks, who gazed so long at his reflection in the pool that he forgot to live, to love, to act. So too do many now gaze into the shimmering pool of the Internet, entranced by images, likes, and endless streams of content. Their bodies grow weak, their friendships fade, their days pass unnoticed. What should have been a tool for life has become a substitute for life itself.

Learn then, O seeker, the path of wisdom. Do not cast aside the Internet entirely, for like fire, it may warm or it may burn. Instead, master it, as a rider masters a wild horse. Let it serve you, not enslave you. Seek knowledge, but balance it with silence. Build connections, but strengthen them with real presence. Use it to awaken, not to numb.

Practical counsel is this: Set boundaries. Walk outside without your device. Look into the eyes of another and speak face to face. Touch the earth with your hands, feel the weight of the sun upon your brow. The Internet can give you information, but only life can give you wisdom. The screen can show you images, but only presence can give you love.

Therefore, O child of tomorrow, remember: the Internet is vast, powerful, and often pointless, but your soul is not. Do not trade the eternal for the fleeting, nor the real for the illusion. Walk in balance. Let the tool remain a tool, and let your life remain truly lived. Only then shall you rise above the shadows and dwell in the light of the living.