What was the war about, again?

We fought day in and out
against what we thought was an oppressive force
trying to embed itself
into our daily routines, 
into our bedrooms and internal organs. We resisted
against the onslaught of neon messages
telling us how to dress,
how to eat,
how to think,
but in the end
the electric movement was too powerful
for our hand-made ideas.
Our organic thoughts shriveled
and browned
before implementation was ever conceived.

And so, we assimilated into the daily pattern
of breathing in and out,
walking side to side (never forward).

It became the way days were lived,
until our memory of a freer, more fluid time period
was abandoned,
forgotten.

Here we are now,
soldiers with bayonets loosened from our grasp,
their purpose unknown.

Here we are,
a collective of individual veneers,
fumbling through unrecalled wants.

What war?