My son is (a) spawning hundreds of chickens, and (b) using a machine made of pistons and some other gadgets to squish them into oblivion. It’s Minecraft, of course. From Alpha to Omega, from squark to squawk, these are Minecraft-mediated virtual particles. Made of chicken.
In my own youth it was pulling legs off bugs and charring them with a magnifying glass. Ant hills were targets of opportunity. Today this mayhem is an online multiplayer event.
==> [X] [X] <==
We live in the future.