The last three years or so have been the most difficult and
disturbing of my life to date. (I can hardly claim ‘challenging’ for the most
part. ‘Grinding’ would be the more apposite participle.) In so being, they have
engendered many questions around, and reflections upon, issues such as personal
identity, the nature of our particular beast, and what the hell is the point of it all
anyway. But it doesn’t stop at me. I’ve noticed that several people within my
orbit – most notably Mel, my daughter, and my friend Ms Wong – have been
passing through a similar process. Details vary a little, but the principle is
the same.
Preamble over. Onward to Mel’s theory.
She thinks the cyborgs are responsible. She is becoming
half-convinced that 95% of the human population is being gradually subsumed
into a new matrix which has as its foundation unwitting subjugation to, and
unthinking reliance upon, the technological imperative and its commercial
corollary. In short, the machines are taking over and the new lieutenants are
the corporate executives and advertising neophytes. The remaining 5% of the population, of which
we and a few others form individual components, are becoming aliens in this new
order. As such, and being unremittingly recalcitrant, we are being forced ever
further into a wasteland of distress, disturbance and dysfunction. That is,
after all, what most people would consider the most fitting repository for
aliens while the belongers get on with belonging to the real world.
I find this a most compelling theory. It fits the facts,
accords with the experience, and helps identify the fellow alien nicely. One thing does confuse me, however. Where would
the most eminently interesting Mistress M of upstate New York fit into this scenario? It is
surely inconceivable that somebody doing a PhD at an Ivy League university
could belong anywhere other than in the real world. And yet somehow I have my doubts, but she does have an
iPad and she hasn’t spoken to me in ages…
Next up will be the preferred post on the subject of plastic
hedging and its usefulness to garden gnomes.
2 comments:
The real world, huh? I thought that members of the Ivy League were considered to occupy a planet of our own and that we are utterly out of touch with the real world, as evidenced by our strange jargon-y language and liberal ideologies. "Real America" owns a pickup truck and likes to shoot things. When Real Americans become cyborgs they will have a screen that plays Fox News 24/7 and at least two of their appendages will be guns.
Well, maybe, but I suspect that strange jargon-y language and liberal ideologies only push you to the fringe of the real world. The Wasteland of the Ds awaits. (Actually, I imagine you're self-sufficient enough to cope perfectly well with wastelands.) Maybe we'll meet in Bhutan one day.
I'm rambling off the top of my head instead of waiting a day and being sensible.
By the way, I'm coming close to the end of 'Lolita' It's suddenly depressing the hell out of me, raising personal spectres which I fear greatly. I'm not sure whether I can finish it, but I'll try if only in honour of your interest in the matter.
And another by-the-way: according to my Feedjit, you appear to have gone from home to Providence in twenty four minutes last night. I think I might be labouring under a misapprehension.
American 'huh?' = British 'eh?' Noted.
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