In search of what's real... and a can of anti-addiction spray!
'If you don't make time to read, you don't make time to learn'. No better sentence to trigger somebody who considers himself a lifelong learner!
THINK. 'Ubik', a novel by Philip K. Dick, was written in 1969. I read it first in 1999. With the world at the brink of a new Millennium, and the mood compounded by arrival of 'The Matrix', posing questions of what is even real, the book made a lasting impression. I wrote my literature exam research paper on it (wish I could find it now!) and spent countless hours wondering if and when such future would emerge.
25 years later, many of the themes appear strikingly relevant. The story in the book puts readers at unease of not knowing if main characters (spoiler alert!) are even alive! Technology, seemingly indistinguishable from magic, creates the layer of half-life, where humans can continue to exist for decades while their bodies no longer function. What starts as a detective noir story of a corporate sabotage, turns into a journey through time, space, and spheres of reality. In search for meaning and truth, Joe Chip must question everything and everyone. Ubik, the ultimate, ubiquitous substance, concealed in a can of spray, is able to prevent erosion and decay. When the entire landscape is shifting in multiple dimensions, humans are looking for stability, or its illusion.
I am utterly fascinated by the self-inflicted struggle to stay sane in the wake of technology inventions we have been creating nearly from the dawn of time. Half-jokingly, each advancement creates a similar amount of adversity, that can only be overcome by further progress. We only move forward. In Dick's book, Jory, a malicious tenant of the half-life layer, feeds off energy of its captives, producing a version of reality to manipulate them into behaving the way that best supports his objectives. Sounds familiar?
'We are presented with a virtual world powered, literally, by the incineration of the real', says one of the characters of 'Bee Sting', a book released over 50 years later.
FEEL. Difficult conversations with your favourite little people are... well, difficult. I wish a life of a parent was exclusively this ideal string of positive, memorable moments. But it is also not as dire as Dickie (!), the father in 'Bee Sting' reflects - ever since they are born, your life becomes filled with a constant fear of them being annihilated the moment you look away. It’s not that bad. Probably something in between.
We watched 'Social Dilemma' as a family. With some snacks to soften the blow, our aim was to expose our teen and tween to somewhat striking truth about mechanisms of social media, and in particular how the computing power and algorithms are now able to know us better than we know ourselves. And how it can be used to trigger changes in our behaviour and life choices. In the real world.
'The Devil's deepest wile is to persuade us that he does not exist'. This quote, attributed to Charles Baudelaire, a 19th century poet, has been used numerously by contemporary culture. For absolute clarity, mine is not a one-sided critique. The benefits of social media are undeniable. But one also must acknowledge the addictive power of virtual world. Many of us think we are resilient, not susceptible to dopamine hits economy. It all happens to others.
I have been there, so I know. I was in a long recovery from illness a few years ago. Video games was one of the ways to endure stress, while retaining (an illusion of) activity. I got completely captured by one of these, a very popular online multiplayer sports game. Its engine is constructed in a way the progress, wins and advancement in rankings are predominantly a linear function of time spent in the game and following daily challenges. I could see me sliding into the trap, I understood how the mechanism worked, and yet I found it very difficult to stop. I cheated on a game timer I was setting. I was finding reasons to sit in front of it for hours. I could feel it changing how I felt.
Thankfully, I found enough willpower to quit. An adult, a family man, sucked by the dopamine machine. Happens to the best of us. That said, we have an obligation to protect younger generations, as they face multiple versions of Jory, the malicious citizen of half-life,
DO. I am finding it difficult to concentrate as I am finishing the journal for the week. This time, the reason is mundane: my daughter and two of her friends are apparently having a full-voice karaoke session in her room. Has finding an inner voice simply become more difficult, given all the distractions?
I wish there was a can of spray I could use!
