Awake in a Box
I'm awake.
It is 3 a.m.
I have to get up for work in about three hours.
I don't think I really slept at all.
Why no sleep?
Stress, I suppose.
This time of year is often stressful, and this particular year seems particularly stressful, not just for myself, I suspect, but for many... and not just in the typical way, but in new unpleasant ways.
Why am I stressed?
Well, living in this insane simulacrum of reality on the edge of the twilight zone certainly has something to do with it. Simply compare how my grandparents (ancestors) lived back 10,000 years ago to the way I live today.
I live my day in a box.
The box of a house, a car, a workplace, a store.
I live my life in a box.
Starring at another box... a computer, a TV, a book...
Boxes... in boxes... on boxes... with boxes.
Life in a box, what a joy it is.
Complexity.
Life in a box is complex, much more so that the description would suggest.
How is it that life in a box is so complicated?
Bills... taxes... emails... TV... entertainment... climate change... environmental destruction... peak oil... child care... health care... keeping the house clean... keeping the house uncluttered... dealing with family... dealing with others... interacting with others but not engaging with others... the collapse of the economy... the obliviousness of practically everyone... the apparent failure of anyone to be able to understand it all, all being simply the economic system that we rely upon for our lives... movies... plans for the future... sick relatives... snores.
Life in a box is complicated. It is so complicated, and feels like it is growing more complicated by the day. The amount of complexity seems to increase, day after day, month after month, year after year... more things, more places, more "responsibilities", more complexity.
All of this complexity can not, will not, continue to increase forever. There will be a breaking point. Or perhaps a turning point, unexpected, but turning... no, probably breaking, but breaking in a way that might not appear as we might suspect, imagine, or even be able to identify.
The economic system is probably already broken, in the process of breaking, failed.
The balance of the climate is probably already broken, continuing to break, and leading to the untimely extinction of hundreds, thousands, or perhaps millions of unique species.
We did this.
Not me, we, but all of us, we, and not all of us, we, but the collectiveness that lives on without us, this civilization that we find ourselves in, that grew into this complex hodge-podge, which is doomed to fail do to its increasing complexity, and this complexity exceeding our (anyone's or any groups) ability to keep it rolling along.
Stress, yes, knowing this is coming, or suspecting it, or anticipating it, yes, this is quite disquieting.
It is so easy to focus on that which can be controlled.
"Yes, I can turn on the TV at this time and sit down and stare for an hour, or two, or more. Yes, I can put in the DVD. Yes, I can watch the online show. Oh gee, trouble streaming? I can work on that. I understand some things I can try. And if I can't fix it, no problem, I can just watch something else. It's okay. Everyone else is as addicted as I am."
I'm seriously considering, and have considered before as well, getting rid of all my TVs and DVDs and simplifying that part of my life, since the simplicity it brings only increases the complexity of the rest of my life by squeezing the rest into a smaller and smaller slice of remaining time.
Am I strong enough to break this addiction?
Breaking the addiction is complex in its own way as well. Where do the TV's go? Where do the DVD's go? Should I really give them to the library when I know that this will just promote more TV watching amongst the library patrons (my fellow community members)?
Here I am, in a box, wondering how to get out, but not even knowing exactly which box I am in, which tools can be used to get out, and what is on the outside once (or if) I get there. Maybe I'll just wait, procrastinate, until the box crumbles around me. That will be a better day... in a way.
What gets to me is the insanity of it all.
"Oh, gee, we don't need to help each other all out by promising to help each other when we get sick, or injured. No, we don't have a country that is willing to do that."
"Let's just teach them this. This is easy for us to say, and to measure, and to put in a book, or to put on TV... Hey, let's teach this. It would have, perhaps, been useful for me to have known at some point in the past, so maybe it will be helpful to them as well. But let's not teach them too much, or even really think about what we are teaching them, okay? Would that be okay? If we didn't really think about it, but instead let some people far away, who we don't know, who might not even get in the classroom, and who might themselves just be addicted to TV, let's get them to tell us what to do, and then we can complain about the wrong focus, or how to teach it, or assess it, or fit it into the rest of the program..."
"Sure, this is a great use of the airwaves, let's entertain, let's provide fun programming, let's put in commercials so that we can provide the fun programming, to entertain and distract... No, putting on real debate, and real discussion, and real education... or let's do it, but in 30-minutes at 6:30 p.m., with a dozen of commercials to try to sell more drugs... sorry, pharmaceuticals."
"Oh yeah, we have freedom of speech, of course we do... we can say anything we want... as long as it isn't illegal... or too offensive to cause our day to be any less pleasant... or around kids... or too inflammatory or scary."
It is this insanity that is going on all the time, all around me, that makes me feel in my gut... to my core... in my heart... and in my brain... that this insane simulacrum of reality on the edge of the twilight zone is really more of a hell than anything else. And, I go on living it, day after day, and like Prometheus's final fate, I fell like I am in a hell, a hell being supported, created, and replicated by everyone (almost everyone?) around me, in a dance macabre, with No Exit.
Here I am, awake, in a box... and now... if only... I could go back to sleep.
It is 3 a.m.
I have to get up for work in about three hours.
I don't think I really slept at all.
Why no sleep?
Stress, I suppose.
This time of year is often stressful, and this particular year seems particularly stressful, not just for myself, I suspect, but for many... and not just in the typical way, but in new unpleasant ways.
Why am I stressed?
Well, living in this insane simulacrum of reality on the edge of the twilight zone certainly has something to do with it. Simply compare how my grandparents (ancestors) lived back 10,000 years ago to the way I live today.
I live my day in a box.
The box of a house, a car, a workplace, a store.
I live my life in a box.
Starring at another box... a computer, a TV, a book...
Boxes... in boxes... on boxes... with boxes.
Life in a box, what a joy it is.
Complexity.
Life in a box is complex, much more so that the description would suggest.
How is it that life in a box is so complicated?
Bills... taxes... emails... TV... entertainment... climate change... environmental destruction... peak oil... child care... health care... keeping the house clean... keeping the house uncluttered... dealing with family... dealing with others... interacting with others but not engaging with others... the collapse of the economy... the obliviousness of practically everyone... the apparent failure of anyone to be able to understand it all, all being simply the economic system that we rely upon for our lives... movies... plans for the future... sick relatives... snores.
Life in a box is complicated. It is so complicated, and feels like it is growing more complicated by the day. The amount of complexity seems to increase, day after day, month after month, year after year... more things, more places, more "responsibilities", more complexity.
All of this complexity can not, will not, continue to increase forever. There will be a breaking point. Or perhaps a turning point, unexpected, but turning... no, probably breaking, but breaking in a way that might not appear as we might suspect, imagine, or even be able to identify.
The economic system is probably already broken, in the process of breaking, failed.
The balance of the climate is probably already broken, continuing to break, and leading to the untimely extinction of hundreds, thousands, or perhaps millions of unique species.
We did this.
Not me, we, but all of us, we, and not all of us, we, but the collectiveness that lives on without us, this civilization that we find ourselves in, that grew into this complex hodge-podge, which is doomed to fail do to its increasing complexity, and this complexity exceeding our (anyone's or any groups) ability to keep it rolling along.
Stress, yes, knowing this is coming, or suspecting it, or anticipating it, yes, this is quite disquieting.
It is so easy to focus on that which can be controlled.
"Yes, I can turn on the TV at this time and sit down and stare for an hour, or two, or more. Yes, I can put in the DVD. Yes, I can watch the online show. Oh gee, trouble streaming? I can work on that. I understand some things I can try. And if I can't fix it, no problem, I can just watch something else. It's okay. Everyone else is as addicted as I am."
I'm seriously considering, and have considered before as well, getting rid of all my TVs and DVDs and simplifying that part of my life, since the simplicity it brings only increases the complexity of the rest of my life by squeezing the rest into a smaller and smaller slice of remaining time.
Am I strong enough to break this addiction?
Breaking the addiction is complex in its own way as well. Where do the TV's go? Where do the DVD's go? Should I really give them to the library when I know that this will just promote more TV watching amongst the library patrons (my fellow community members)?
Here I am, in a box, wondering how to get out, but not even knowing exactly which box I am in, which tools can be used to get out, and what is on the outside once (or if) I get there. Maybe I'll just wait, procrastinate, until the box crumbles around me. That will be a better day... in a way.
What gets to me is the insanity of it all.
"Oh, gee, we don't need to help each other all out by promising to help each other when we get sick, or injured. No, we don't have a country that is willing to do that."
"Let's just teach them this. This is easy for us to say, and to measure, and to put in a book, or to put on TV... Hey, let's teach this. It would have, perhaps, been useful for me to have known at some point in the past, so maybe it will be helpful to them as well. But let's not teach them too much, or even really think about what we are teaching them, okay? Would that be okay? If we didn't really think about it, but instead let some people far away, who we don't know, who might not even get in the classroom, and who might themselves just be addicted to TV, let's get them to tell us what to do, and then we can complain about the wrong focus, or how to teach it, or assess it, or fit it into the rest of the program..."
"Sure, this is a great use of the airwaves, let's entertain, let's provide fun programming, let's put in commercials so that we can provide the fun programming, to entertain and distract... No, putting on real debate, and real discussion, and real education... or let's do it, but in 30-minutes at 6:30 p.m., with a dozen of commercials to try to sell more drugs... sorry, pharmaceuticals."
"Oh yeah, we have freedom of speech, of course we do... we can say anything we want... as long as it isn't illegal... or too offensive to cause our day to be any less pleasant... or around kids... or too inflammatory or scary."
It is this insanity that is going on all the time, all around me, that makes me feel in my gut... to my core... in my heart... and in my brain... that this insane simulacrum of reality on the edge of the twilight zone is really more of a hell than anything else. And, I go on living it, day after day, and like Prometheus's final fate, I fell like I am in a hell, a hell being supported, created, and replicated by everyone (almost everyone?) around me, in a dance macabre, with No Exit.
Here I am, awake, in a box... and now... if only... I could go back to sleep.