A round of applause in order. This ode to uselessness isn’t achieved overnight.

The near peak in our species devolution may be upon us. According to a new study, we no longer spend as much time raising our children, exercising, reading, or in general tending to our own personal well-being as we do watching Netflix.

A round of applause in order. This ode to uselessness isn’t achieved overnight.

The study, conducted by TGDResearch, discovered the only two activities the average American does more in a usual day than watch Netflix is work and sleep. Ostensibly, the sounds justifiably reasonable until one takes a gander at the laundry list of basic life essentials neglected for the sake of Netflix.

For example, childcare ranked 11th on the list of activities Americans do most, and that tied with an anonymous category called ‘Other’, meaning fostering and mentoring one’s seed garnered as much daily attention as ‘shit we didn’t care to categorize’.

‘Adult Intimacy’ an odd allusion to ‘sex,' appears literally last on the list as a mere blip on the bar graph with a daily average of two minutes.

Americans spend an average of 45 minutes per day ‘reading’ which presumably is covered at least in-part by the subtitles in ‘Game of Thrones.'

Going to church essentially came in second to last, meaning humanity is now less concerned with their own souls than they are on watching The Fonz jump the shark.

What’s most remarkable about this is the fact that Americans spend almost the same amount of time buying shit as they do taking care of themselves. Similarly, just the idea that somehow Americans are spending nearly triple the amount of time dedicated to shoveling pop-tarts into their skulls as they are fulfilling any parental role is truly a testament to our species. Proving, once and for all, Americans now official love their televisions more than their children or their cheese-dust stained skin-bags they call bodies.

Well, ladies and gentlemen, we’ve made it. We are one step closer to our Utopian dream, our brains in a jar, our genitals somewhere, who knows? Maybe we lost them during the commercial break, our eyes glued to the phosphorous glow of the television likes moths as the IV pumps liquid crunch wraps into our veins.

Oh, the kids? There’s probably an app for that.