“Walking into your house is like walking into a museum and you’re its curator. As your friend, I’d really like to see a 4K TV in here.”
“I don’t need one.”
“You have a 32 inch TV; it has a back to it like you could take a spare car tyre out of it and put it on a jeep; it makes crackling noises when you turn it on like it’s about to launch.”
I look over at David from the sofa, “Do you drive an electric car.”
I’m thinking about Friday like I do with a Monday; how fast will it go this time. I could feel David look directly at me, even though my eyes are looking straight ahead at the TV. The sensation of something, like an electric charge building up between us, causes me to turn my head and make eye contact.
“You’re going to blog about consumer electronics, aren’t you.”
Statistically, if you’re earning and then spending a large percentage of it by giving it back to the opposition that gave it to you, you’re going to come out worse even when they are paying you again in the next month. Consumer Electronics is not about a lifestyle that needs to be provided for; it’s about understanding it better and then approaching it with a seat belt secured firmly in your mind about what it is that you are doing.
The World of Consumer Electronics is more than a little crazy. It’s not economics at work; it’s doing the most excessive amount of work to get rid of something to somebody else that doesn’t need it as much as they think they want it. If there was one industry that was causing the most health issues in both body and mind, its shadowy presence over it is only overcome when the end of the day ticks by.
It’s hard not to use a metaphor here, but there is great good and at the same time a terrible price to pay to what it is we can’t seem to get out of.
People are not playing together. They’re being directed to a financial risk, pooled together, made to disengage their responsibilities and then offered a discount on blindfolds.
I can’t understand that people don’t understand that, when they play a video game where they’re shooting at each other, they seem completely unaware that they’re not doing anything and the driving force behind all of it has no interest in the welfare of each and to its own. How this got by some sort of ‘rules of engagement’ process, I’m not sure; the one thing I am sure of is that the bigger these problems get, the less anybody pays attention to it.
The one way I would enforce it not changing is to direct a lot of energy toward the individual needing – or expected by some overall requirement – to be better; by buying into devices and services that would improve their quality of life and their version of reality.
I see the decaying remnant of an era that had the idea in their minds they were changing things by sharing things – video streaming services of fighting within fighting; playing in player shrunken circles to the beat of an adult playground littered with unwanted toys and a growing wasteland where no shame could ever get entry to it.
In with the Old
How much value does history have for any of us looking back at it. What does an old photo held in the hand mean to somebody who is in it and to somebody who is not. How fragile is something if you knew how important it was or if you didn’t know where it came from.
How much do you think you would have lost every moment you spent at a screen presenting an image that doesn’t exist, but in your mind connects to other people sharing the same vision and the same fate; a metaphor that is in itself, amiss.
The only way to see differently is to join with the past. To join with the Old; the Aged. Some part of us is already fully awake, but consumer electronics are putting it back to sleep faster than it has the time to change it.
Entertainment is an exhausted accumulation of imagination, repeated multiple times, with it leaning against people with the same ideas, the same outlook and a slightly different background.
It’s also a reflection of only what we know that had any success in the past. Like almost anything else you could imagine surviving long enough so that it was used to transform into new and existing material. Without that connection, it fades to black.
There are other things that take the same path, but they don’t pull any material along with it on the same journey. The things that get dragged along, don’t even come from inside of it – it comes from the outside.
Consumer electronics can be classified as taking new and interesting ways to waste time and then better develop them if they’re not quite doing enough to waste it even more. This can only ever have one outcome. What is this outcome; how does it feel. What is it like when you fulfill its journey and allow it to take control. Some describe it as not being able to breathe or even being able to walk. Others experience it as a weight that is constantly with them and not even a lack of gravity can defy it.
A Journey’s Past
A hospital is a strange place of people who are well or are expecting to die; as if it were the only location most likely for those two events to ever occur.
In the memory of my own past, I am sitting on a very uncomfortable chair and from its orientation and mine, I see an old woman on a bed with long, grey silvery hair and faint, colorless eyebrows. Next to her are two teenagers leaning on the bed, tilting forward on plastic chairs so that their knees almost touch the floor; looking up at a television that is hanging in the corner of the hospital room with too much noise coming out of it as I could see from other patients in the room, too weary to say anything. I am staring at the scene as a whole, but I notice a movement in my sight – like a leaf catching you unaware as it falls on your head as you walk in a park under trees; feeling it there, but seeing it already on the ground at the moment you crane your neck to allow your hand to brush it away. She is waving her right hand at me weakly from her wrist, her eyes fixed on me. I get up hesitantly, walking silently over the hard floor, and get within a few feet of her. The heads of the teenagers are crooked upward and engaged fully with the images flashing intermittently in front of them. I notice and sense several things, all at once, on a side table – a black and white photo of a young woman, with another hidden underneath it; the smell of roses, fresh bed sheets and home. I suddenly feel tempted to touch the photo to look at the other photo underneath it. I’m startled slightly when she speaks – so softly that, at first, I think it might be somebody behind me asking me to leave. Everything is blanked out to silence in that moment.
“You’ve been here before.” she says quietly.
“I don’t understand.” Up close, I could see her clearly. It was like looking at somebody that was excited by the traffic that was, once again, moving.
“You’ve been here before.” she says again, “Is it any better the second time?”