go play with your brothers and sisters in the information tribe

Somewhere between an invitation and a command, this phrase has been rattling around in my head lately:

Go play with your brothers and sisters in the information tribe.

It feels like a message from some digital oracle, an echo of a forgotten wisdom that knows no time. Maybe it’s a whisper from the collective unconscious or a fragment of an old myth trying to reassemble itself in the weirdness of now.

The words carry a certain weight. On the surface, it sounds light—playful even—but underneath, there’s something ancient at work. There’s the primal pull of the fire, a call to gather, to share stories, to create meaning together. Except now, the fire flickers in the glow of our screens, and the tribe isn’t bound by blood or geography. It’s fluid, global, and electric.

The Tribal Call

I think about the word tribe. It’s loaded. In one sense, it conjures images of belonging, connection, and shared purpose. But in another, it brings to mind divisions and in-groups—us versus them.

In the context of the information tribe, though, the word feels more expansive. This isn’t about exclusivity. It’s about fluidity, about finding the people who resonate with your weirdness, your questions, and your search for meaning. It’s not a singular tribe but a kaleidoscope of overlapping circles, constantly shifting as ideas and people flow in and out.

And what does it mean to play in this tribe? That’s the part I keep coming back to.

The Permission to Play

Play feels like a radical act these days. We live in a world that worships productivity, where every action is supposed to have a purpose, a goal, a measurable outcome. But play doesn’t follow those rules.

To play is to experiment, to explore, to get lost in something for the sheer joy of it. It’s curiosity without a roadmap. And when you play with others—with your “brothers and sisters in the information tribe”—that’s when the magic happens. Ideas collide. Stories merge. Something new is born.

I think about the spaces where I’ve felt this kind of play most vividly:

• A late-night chat on Discord where half-formed ideas suddenly find their shape.
• The collaborative chaos of a shared Google Doc filled with wild, unfiltered brainstorming.
• Even the strange alchemy of a meme thread, where humour and insight weave together in unexpected ways.

These moments are fleeting but powerful. They remind me that connection isn’t always about deep, serious conversations. Sometimes it’s about the lightness of shared play, the creative spark that happens when people come together with no agenda other than to see what unfolds.

Old Ideas for Weird Times

There’s something comforting about how old this idea feels. It’s as if the phrase—go play with your brothers and sisters in the information tribe—is tapping into an ancient rhythm. It’s the same rhythm that guided our ancestors to gather around the fire, to tell stories, and to imagine futures together.

And yet, the times we live in are undeniably weird. The sheer overload of information can feel suffocating. The digital spaces where we connect often feel more fragmented than whole. But maybe that’s precisely why this old idea matters now more than ever.

It’s not about nostalgia or trying to recreate some mythical golden age of community. It’s about remixing the ancient with the modern—taking that primal impulse to connect and adapting it for our pixelated world.

Finding Your Tribe

Your tribe is out there, but it’s not going to look like you expect. It might be a niche subreddit, a group chat, a Twitter thread, or even a random collection of comments on a blog post. The shape doesn’t matter as much as the feeling—the sense that you’ve found a space where your curiosity feels alive, where your voice is heard, and where your play is welcomed.

If there’s one takeaway from this, it’s this: give yourself permission to play. Let go of the need to have all the answers or to always be “on track.” Find your people—or stumble into them—and see what happens when you let your curiosity lead the way.

Weird times call for creative measures, and the information tribe is waiting. So go play. Not just for the sake of distraction but because play is generative. It creates connections, sparks ideas, and reminds us that even in fragmented times, we’re not alone.

Maybe that’s the real message behind the phrase that keeps circling back to me. It’s not about the destination, the outcome, or the product. It’s about the process—the joy of connecting, creating, and exploring together.

So here’s your invitation:
Go play with your brothers and sisters in the information tribe. See where it takes you.