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Technicolor Fingerprints? That’s so analogue. These days, it’s all about the digital imprint. Click here, swipe there, and suddenly, your entire life is a marketing spreadsheet, broken down into neat columns for some intern to analyze while they chug Red Bull and pretend they have a career trajectory.
Now, don't get all doom-and-gloom on me. I mean, what can you do? Quit the internet? Start using a rotary phone and hope the FBI doesn't bug your toaster? Nah, it’s like that scene in 'The Matrix' where Morpheus offers Neo the red pill or the blue pill, but instead of seeing the real world, you just get a pop-up ad for weight loss pills and a message about cookies tracking your every move. You’re in the system, buddy, and it's got more colors than a box of Crayola.