What then is reality? In a world constantly bombarded with cinematic verite’s what sorts of limits seem apparent to minds supercharged by that ever voracious religion of technology bent on devouring young minds with its publicity’s and dogmas? Far reaching mind-bending claims made in total safety from the journalistic bastions of authority set loose like salvos bending thought to dissolve away what had formerly been considered rational limits to both society and existence. A topsy turvey world of those beset by a sickness come of absolute conviction in UFO’s, androids, and dystopian ideologies that could pnly result in eventual enslavement or self-destruction bubbling to the surface of the tarpit of unshakeable certainty’s.
An incident coming to mind of a happenstance encounter with a curious young gentleman in the eyrie of a high rise penthouse whose precincts were inhabited with a large number of anonymous personages of varied backdrops. The older elements holding court upon an overused collection of leather couches some twenty stories above the pavement surrounded by a view that in other edifices would have only been accessible to a more financially well heeled crowd. The long skyline perturbed by accessory towers going up to challenge those that had once held sway in the local public imagination as the tallest and once most remarkable. This youngster barely past his twenties having been an unannounced frequenter of free Internet access that the top layer of aging construction offered to potential tenants to offset the inconvenience of the structure’s advancing age and annoyingly mounting decrepitudes.
His overt appearance coming from an unspecified quarter of southern hemisphere ethnicity not suggesting the cloak of sagacity in all topics mechanical with a biological bent. Though he did not offer his name in this conversation, it soon became apparent that his leanings were fully in line with those of a very mythical class of forward thinking madmen from the literary well-spring of Mary Shelley. To here his explanation set before the two old farts whose corporal remains were deposited upon two adjoining settee’s, his conviction in following through with his grand plans for ennobling his own brand of human life was already presently in the bag! One should always remember when speaking to such that a strict decorum of aplomb at any claims made, no matter how fantastic, should be observed by all those of two decades or more advance in age is rigorously expected. And having nearly double those years under my belt, foolish I, engaged to collide most politely into his train of logic.
The undercurrent of a technological claim of modern Prometheus dimension was on the burners of the media claiming that the age of manufacture of viable life from inert substances was now at hand. Stating that various unnamed figures supported by state funded organizations were using computer CNC based methods to convert industrially appropriated DNA as a starting point to essentially build anything that they wanted. A heady claim in light of too many melodramatic portrayals of demonstratively lunatic Dr. Frankenstein’s and their politically mythic equivalents in terms of Dr. Mengele’s. Looking at this young man so evidently committed to running his fantasies at high idle racing past all externally posed questions offered in the strict patois of the latest popular jargon having been recently coined. wondering all the time where true interspection lay? The flaw of all those in youth still in sharp memory as having been a consequence of leaping before carefully looking. The sacrament of his I-Phone offered in imagery of the visually captured evidence of his efforts to date showing a dissembled female mannequin. This would be Pygmalion wishing to construct his own special category of Venus, his only quandary offered having the slightest hint of doubt being in how to properly educate her!
To say that such claims to a purpose that casually flaunted a universe of uncharted hazards would be the most monumental of understatements. What chance does a species accustomed to living and dying perpetually within the same instance of a series of indefinite instants have to survive such hubris. Tho challenge the unfathomable mysteries of the universe by bulldozing them with a mechanistic sense of Darwinian social equivalency weighing the measure of the twenty-two grams of the soul without question deserving a fate no less final than an Icarus or a last moment fill-in replacement for the chariot of the Sun. Yet, one could not help but admire the youthful enthusiasm displayed undaunted by all that hidden knowledge yet to be appreciated. The dialectic materialism driven moralities of the current modern graveyard of the womb plundered by Roe versus Wade, totally unconsidered.
Then there were others, like myself, that were left over from a former era hiding from this bombast who having gone through such carefree eras were now brought low by blatant heresy that now served as facts that they had constant difficulty in carrying on a normal existence in counterpoint to this choking atmosphere of constant production of fiction. The defensive mechanism of doubt being a self-imposed quarantined by light of abstinence. Maybe with a lot of help a bridge might one day built? But that would be highly unlikely before the sky would be inadvertently set aflame by some future Chernobyl style Hadron collider experiment that would make its mark on yet another dark age of post-Atlantian recompense.