But There Will Be Signs You See Me with a GFX100RF
Every meme worth its salt has that punch of truth hidden beneath the absurdity. The one that gets me every time is the classic “but there will be signs.” Most people imagine vague omens—strange lights in the sky, cryptic graffiti on an alley wall, maybe a goat with unnervingly human eyes. For me, though, the sign of all signs would be far more tangible, ergonomic, and priced just slightly north of common sense. If one day I were to stumble into wealth—serious, life-recalibrating wealth—the proof wouldn’t be a yacht or a Tesla. It would be the FUJIFILM GFX100RF slung casually around my neck, swinging like a holy pendant as I walk into the golden hour. That’s the sign.
To the uninitiated, the FUJIFILM GFX100RF is just a camera. But to those of us who have stared into the abyss of gear reviews at 3 a.m., it is the shimmering unicorn of medium format photography. We’re talking about 102 megapixels of sensor real estate so large, it makes full-frame look like a cropped snapshot on a flip phone. Each click of the shutter isn’t just a photograph; it’s a cartographic survey of light, detail, and resolution. You don’t capture faces—you capture skin topography, every laugh line etched with geological accuracy. You don’t photograph landscapes—you summon landscapes onto digital canvases so massive that a single pine needle could probably apply for its own passport.
Imagine me, with my current humble setup, capturing street life, travel shots, and the occasional cat in a sunbeam. Now replace that with the GFX100RF. Suddenly, every shot carries the gravity of an oil painting. My quirky travel snaps of umbrellas in Lisbon or baguettes in Paris would become high art. Random details—the brickwork of a wall, the chalk writing on a café board, the wrinkles on a stranger’s hand—would take on epic proportions. Entire novels could be written from the detail captured in a single frame. And the meme gods would whisper: “But there will be signs.”
Of course, there’s a delicious irony here. The GFX100RF is so overpowered for daily life it borders on comedy. Who needs 102MP files of their breakfast toast? Who actually requires medium format depth just to photograph a street corner pigeon? Yet that’s the essence of the dream—it’s not about need, it’s about the unapologetic, absurd excess of it all. It’s a declaration that if I had the means, I wouldn’t spend it on something practical like a sensible family sedan. No, I’d immortalize grocery runs and park benches with the same visual fidelity NASA uses to map the surface of Mars.
And that’s why this fantasy works perfectly with the “signs” motif. The FUJIFILM GFX100RF wouldn’t just be a camera—it would be a herald. If you see me with it, you won’t need to ask about my financial situation. You’ll know. It will be written in megapixels, encoded in sensor size, broadcasted in the way the camera dwarfs my torso. The lens alone would gleam like a holy artifact, and people around me would feel compelled to part like I was Moses holding a very, very expensive brick of magnesium alloy.
Until then, I live in the liminal space of daydreams, bookmarking review articles and lurking in online forums where other mortals confess the same longing. For now, my perfectly capable gear serves me well, and I’m grateful for every image it gives me. But if fate ever decides to drop a financial windfall into my lap, the first thing I’ll buy isn’t stocks, cars, or watches. It’s the camera that turns life into myth.
And when that day comes, don’t look for a press release or a social media brag. Just watch for the sign. Because there will be signs. And they will be 102 megapixels wide.