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Category: narcissism

Pluralistic Absolutism and Adversarial Hyperbole

Pluralistic Absolutism and Adversarial Hyperbole

A new (and in Western liberal democracies, at least) dominant philosophy has emerged in these most worrying of times, which I have given the name pluralistic absolutism. Now I did Google this, and nobody seems to have used this precise term before. It is however a new spin on an old notion, that of cultural absolutism; the notion that the values of your nation, region, ethnic group, religious persuasion, social class, or ideological belief system (delete as appropriate) are paramount and cannot be challenged. Like much in contemporary culture, this notion has mutated and been transformed by the influence of the internet, and in particular, by social media. 

Ironically, an innovation that promised to bring peoples, nations and cultures together, has had precisely the opposite effect; the online world has instead atomised society, facilitating the rise of identity politics. Societies have become far more tribal, with people finding others who share their ethnicity, gender, and sexuality (or any combination of the aforementioned) and have similar beliefs, norms and values, within cyberspace. These new virtual communities are no longer necessarily limited by national boundaries. But, rather than resulting in a more tolerant attitude towards difference, a reaction against cultural relativism has led to the opposite. A Holier than Thou attitude has become mainstreamed, as everyone noisily proclaims the difference and uniqueness of their group’s particular take on the world, and its moral superiority to every other point of view.

This worldview has many additional consequences, including a conviction (on the part of everybody, it would seem) that there is a fixed way of doing everything, from watering plants in hot weather to writing genre fiction. All of this is spread and facilitated via social media, often linked to different identity groupings, and taking its place alongside the innumerable conspiracy theories, faddism in medical treatments and diets, and all the rest of the detritus.

Every little identity group now maintains that their narrow view of the world and their particular way of doing things is right and rejects (and often condemns as evil), all competing philosophies and methodologies.

The result of this is civil paralysis and confusion, which is exploited by Populists and authoritarians, and threatens democracy and the basis of Liberal society itself, which relies on tolerance and the willingness to agree to differ.

Accompanying this is what I will term adversarial hyperbole, in itself nothing new in the pages of the popular press. However this is now aggressively colonising other areas of the media once considered immune. Hence, every pronouncement by a celebrity or public figure is now an admission rather than a comment. Mild observations about others are repurposed as ‘brutal’ or ‘crushing’ criticisms! (sidebar: when did our public vocabulary become so limited?) 

Every form of public discourse now appears to be conducted in the most ludicrously adversarial terms, and one has to ask what this fashion for violent public discourse tells us about our culture and about the likely fate of our democracy.

Not wishing to be alarmist here, but the Weimar Republic comes to mind, and others have already drawn parallels between the Reichstag Fire and the storming of the US Capitol by Donald Trump’s supporters. This leads me to the conclusion that the new pluralistic absolutism is effectively a product of the Baroque phase of Western Liberal Democracy, and likely a harbinger of its imminent dissolution.

On that cheery note, ’til next time

The Author    August 2021

The real enemy

The real enemy

The actual result of the Euro 2020 final on Sunday turned out to be the least of our worries; of far more concern is the ticketless thugs forcing their way into Wembley (fer Christ’s sake!) during the final of the European Soccer Championship. These ‘England supporters’ also punched stewards, terrorised legitimate ticket holders and caused damage to the stadium. Others (presumably legitimate ticket holders) booed the Italian National Anthem, while an attention-seeking reality tv star invaded the pitch. 

Monday’s papers brought the news that a British Grand Prix racing driver was attacked and relieved of his £40,000 watch (a gift from his team) in a supposedly-secure stadium car park. In purely-footballing terms this and other incidents has probably put paid to any chance Britain and Ireland had of staging the 2030 FIFA World Cup, but that’s not really the issue.

Away from the stadium, the West End is trashed, England players are savagely attacked by racists on social media, drunk and stoned thugs parade around our town and city centres, threatening people for dining in Italian restaurants (or even just eating pizza!), without a police officer in sight. I personally witnessed this in Birmingham’s New Street on the day after the final.

What this tells us is that criminality and public disorder in this country is getting out of hand, and the real enemy isn’t the Italian soccer team, nor is it the European Union, it’s actually a violent and social media-organised minority who appear to be taking over our streets.

And we know where the blame for all this lies, don’t we?

The man who has cut the budget for policing, decimated youth services, attacked and undermined the judiciary, and subverted Parliament. The man whose vacillations would even alarm the protagonist in a Wood Allen movie! Hiding behind the door so recently and opportunistically plastered with England flags (those vanished pretty smartish, didn’t they? presumably as soon as the winning Italian penalty hit the back of the net!). The same gleaming black door that will soon be issuing excuses and announcing abrupt policy U-turns, as COVID 19 explodes once more and we’re all back in lockdown. 

The problem with Johnson is that, on the surface, he’s plausible. Unlike his role-models around the globe, our Prime Minister is not obviously-deranged, nor is he on first name terms with genocidal dictators. Johnson says the right things (even if he doesn’t mean them), while coincidentally giving out messages of encouragement to the extremists and nutters who form much of his core support.

I referenced in the past the notion of the Antichrist as a metaphor for the various difficulties that threaten us. The problem would appear to be that rather than just the one promised in Revelations, we are beset by a multitude of them. The aforementioned genocidal dictators now being joined by a new wave of megalomaniacal billionaires from Silicon Valley, who have the gall to pretend they’re actually saving us!

All of these people share one obvious character trait with ‘the Father of Lies’, and together with their legions of supporters they constitute the real enemy…  

The Author   July 2021

Languorous times

Languorous times

Apologies for just getting in under the wire, and finally blogging just as this miserable washout of a May breathes its last. 

The English Government (I say English because it doesn’t even pretend to govern in the interests of Wales, Scotland and Northern Ireland) increasingly comes to resemble a comic opera, possibly some hitherto-undiscovered work by Gilbert and Sullivan, Trial by Tabloid, perhaps!  Or possibly Princess Carrie, maybe even The Pirates of PPE Procurement! 

Other commentators have compared Johnson’s administration to a Carry on film, Carry on lying would appear to be most apposite. 

The overall effect of this blizzard of misrepresentation, graft and incompetence, very much like a similar exercise on the other side of the Atlantic, has been to ensure that a weary electorate ceases to care, and will welcome any good news.                    

Opposition to the Tory Ascendancy is not helped by a colourless Labour leader, who always seems to have fear in his eyes when he faces the cameras, and an opposition that’s fatally divided, allowing the Conservatives to rack up huge majorities on minority votes. The time for Labour to press for proportional representation in General Elections is clearly now, but will they realise this?

I recently read an article (which I cannot now find) which argued that Languorousness, as opposed to Anxiety or outright Depression, is the default psychological state of our times. One of the online dictionaries that appeared when I searched listed sixteen different synonyms for languor, including lethargy, apathy and weariness, inertia, ennui, lassitude and listlessness. Any of these would appear appropriate descriptions of the public mood as we complete the fourteenth month of the pandemic.

My private literary universe has never appeared a more welcome refuge than now. However, in the world of Lights in the sky, divisions are emerging within the Camposetta movement, even as it consolidates its grip on most of Brazil. Splits between the hard-line Evangelical Christians that make up the majority of the movement’s foot soldiers, and the Environmentalists, Socialists, Trade Unionists and Libertarians who also opposed the Federal Government. Self-interest, graft and authoritarianism are also on the rise, leading many of the original idealists to try and get out while they still can.

The historically-aware amongst you will probably have spotted the parallels with the Spanish Civil War in my tale of a Revolution gone wrong. As has often been said, all revolutions have a tendency to eat their children. 

The Author   May 2021

Normal service resumed

Normal service resumed

After blogging twice in February I’ve now managed to miss out March 2021 entirely!

I think I’ll blame the mental fog that is supposed to be a consequence of lockdown, though in truth the limitations haven’t changed my life that much. My life is no more isolated than it was previously and uncertainty is a part of life, but hey!

As forecast back in February, I’ve become dissatisfied with the new name for novel eight of Lights in the sky, but I know if I give it time, the right title will emerge.

We have reached a crucial point in what’s currently still called Finding your place, my heroine has lost most of her friends to the vicissitudes of guerilla warfare and has realised that her place is far from secure within the changing Camposetta movement. The opportunistic and cynical leadership still expects Bolivar’s Army to take Manaus, but have not provided them with the means to do this.

I watched another Adam Curtis series recently, this one from the prehistory that is the 1990’s, Pandora’s Box apparently originated the format Curtis has mined successfully ever since, and, despite a truly terrible theme tune composed (it would seem) by members of post-punk quartet Gang of Four, it was both informative and stimulating. The last programme A is for Atom sticks in my mind as it dissects the lies, state secrecy, total disregard for safety, manipulation and general venality that lay behind the nuclear energy programme, leading with appalling inevitability to Three Mile Island and Chernobyl. 

Nuclear fission as a source of energy is now thoroughly discredited, but a concerted campaign to boost nuclear fusion is underway. I think it’s fair to say that the only saving grace about fusion is that it’s unlikely ever to work. This is not a flip comment, I have read extensively on the topic and technical limitations have made it impossible to achieve anything beyond milliseconds of fusion, attained at colossal expense. Even if the necessary reaction could be maintained (and contained), the necessity to use elements such as deuterium or tritium, rather than plain old hydrogen, means that (despite the claims) nuclear waste will still be produced. As with fission, the likely cost of the power (if any) finally produced continues to rise. And of course, rather like mining the Asteroid Belt and other fantasies, all that success would lead to is the continuation of our mad Abrahamic Crusade until our entire world is utterly despoiled.

Fusion is rather like mass-migration to Mars; the very worst thing that could happen would be if it were to succeed. 

You may have noticed that the commanding heights of the world economy have been seized by a bunch of sociopathic billionaires. The phrase, ‘this is not really happening!’ springs to mind (thank you Tori Amos!), which is of course correct, because this is now a virtual world within a virtual economy.

And here’s me thinking that the AntiChrist had been voted out of office, but of course these people don’t actually believe in democracy because they know better! An opinion  shared with oligarchs and autocrats everywhere.

And it’s just been announced that a number of English soccer clubs, some very successful, others not so much, have decided to join a new Europe-wide league with other like-minded clubs. Nothing like enlightened self-interest, huh!

Just like the tech billionaires want to get rid of annoying inconveniences like accountability and the democratically-expressed will of the people, the so-called European Super League wants to get rid of fair competition and the notion that you might actually get demoted if you’re shit!

Lovely world we live in…

The Author  April 2021

Happy Xmas (Hope is Over)

Happy Xmas (Hope is Over)

The end of the worst year I can remember (both personally and in general) fast approaches. The end of the old year is traditionally a time for reflection, for the learning of lessons and for resolutions to do better in the future. Resolution one is surely never ever to put our trust in the reassuring falsehoods of any politician described as a populist. The election of Joe Biden and Kamala Harris is a step in the right direction but many traps, both those deliberately left and some that are entirely incidental, await the new administration, and then there’s the rest of the psychopathic crew…

The other really good thing about the past year has been the emergence (and my discovery) of the wonderful Phoebe Bridgers, a singer/songwriter who is absolutely plugged into the zeitgeist and somehow manages to confront the approach of the apocalypse with her winning Cheshire cat grin firmly in place. So resolution two is surely to cherish all the creative arts, rather than taking them (and the artists that produce them) for granted. Lockdown has given us a scary glimpse at what life could be like without them.   

Set against the above, is the stubborn and suicidal course of action being pursued by the present UK Government, a ship of fools commanded by that ultimate in lazy, self-indulgent, indecisive and ignorant populists. You all know who I’m talking about! The ship of state is about to hit the rocks (judging by recent headlines this has already happened), as events unfold with the appalling inevitability of a slow-motion car crash.   

In past blogs I have referenced the rise of unreason in contemporary life, harmless in most contexts but not so much when it begins to compromise public health or dictate voting intentions. The apparent loyalty shown by the majority of the Republican legislators to the current incumbent is a case in point. Partly this is out of fear of the electoral consequences of angering his fan base, but it’s also a conscious decision to exploit irrational beliefs for political advantage. As a recent article in one of the UK broadsheets pointed out, when the rational start to make use of irrationality in their political arguments alarm bells should start ringing; and it’s not just American politicians who are guilty of this, as it is (naturally) the stock in trade of the Brexit lobby in domestic politics.

This is another example of a djinn that once out of the bottle may prove next to impossible to get back in. The Brexiteers and the GOP legislators probably regard themselves (in some sense) as being revolutionaries (draining the swamp, or freeing Albion from the clutches of the European superstate etc etc), but it’s a truism that revolutions have a tendency to eat their children, and once irrationality takes hold it  can become self-sustaining.  

In the light of the above it seems almost irrelevant to announce that I have finally completed the seventh volume of Lights in the sky, which goes by the catchy title of …when you wish upon a star, but in dark times all creativity and any means of escape from grim realities is to be treasured.

In 1971 John Lennon was optimistic enough to wish for an end to war itself; we are not so hopeful (or possibly no longer so naive), but in the current climate within perfidious Albion it can sometimes appear that we have brought an end to hope…

The Author   December 2020

Escaping unpleasant realities

Escaping unpleasant realities

This strangest of years continues its tortured course, and we all remain in limbo, asking ourselves when the grownups in the room are going to step up and start running things again…
And this question is getting quite pressing; I personally don’t think the United States will survive another four years of the current administration without serious political violence, and the only parties who will benefit from this are China and Russia.
Europe will survive our departure, but I don’t think we’ll be so lucky; mass unemployment and national bankruptcy are looking likely, the break-up of the United Kingdom and the collapse of our political institutions are both outside possibilities.
And the pandemic looms over everything, putting all of our futures on hold…
Unsurprisingly, I spend as much time as possible in my fictional world, the real world being so unutterably bleak.
In the world of Lights in the sky, Marta, with the help of her allies João Azevedo and Globo Television and the support of her agent cum manager, Salvador Perez, has been able to take control of her life and continue her process of self-actualisation.
By buying her estate in Minas Gerais, she is also able for the first time to build a life separate from São Paulo, the Show and the Alpha Mission. She also accepts Salvador as her new lover.
At the same time, she fulfills her long-term ambition of becoming the anchor of the Alpha Mission Hour and effectively becoming the Earthly representative of the Children on Alpha. Ironically, it is an unintended consequence of the death of her friend and companion, Sophie Valente, that facilitates this.
All this comes at a price as she becomes distanced from those who formerly were her friends.
The Author September 2020

Not the end, then?

Not the end, then?

Sometimes you convince yourself that you’ve reached the end of something only to find you haven’t. This has happened several times with Lights in the sky, which started life as a short story, submitted (unsuccessfully) to Analog magazine, became a novel, grew into a trilogy and over the past few years has become a septet…
Well, it’s happened again…
I was always conscious that I needed to tell the story of various minor (and not so minor) characters introduced at various points during the series arc, and have found many ingenious ways of doing this. The story of Klara, the original self-aware automaton, and thus the prototype for all the nursemaids on Alpha 5, was to have been accommodated as a parallel narrative within …when you wish upon a star, which otherwise concerns itself with the story of the original Marta on Earth.
I’d written five ‘interludes’, telling Klara’s story from inception in the Alpha Mission laboratory of Dr Helen Choi, right through to her demise at the hands of a marauding band of Camposetta irregulars, more than half a century later. But when it came to it, this felt unsatisfactory, an unnecessarily perfunctory end for a much-loved character, however shocking in its brutal suddenness it might have been.
The solution was obvious; Klara will get her own book and so her future existence, beyond the confines of …when you wish upon a star, can be fully explored.
As usual the source material for the character’s future arc is to be found in the character’s thoughts, beliefs and actions. Without wishing to give anything away about a work in progress, it will become clear that her subsequent actions are entirely consistent with what we already know about her in the four chapters that currently exist.
The provisional title of the eighth book in the series is Klara, but this may change, and work on it will commence in earnest once the current novel is completed
Back in the increasingly surrealistic ‘real world’, it is clear neither Brexit nor the Pandemic will be resolved soon. We exist in the same curious but fevered state, swinging between fearing the worst, while seizing on the smallest crumb of comfort in the media that reassures us that things might not be quite as bad as anticipated.
As ever, COVID-19 is the great unknown; we just don’t know nearly enough about the virus that causes it to predict its long-term effects on our society, economy and personal well-being. We don’t even know for sure how many people have been infected, as the vast majority of cases appear to be asymptomatic, which makes a reliable estimate of the death rate from Coronavirus extremely difficult. We have no idea when (or if) it will mutate and whether this will make it more or less dangerous, though evidence from previous pandemics would appear to suggest that the ‘second wave’ will be worse than the first. Whether being asymptomatic the first time round will protect people from future infection, is again unknown, as is whether any of the dozens of potential vaccines currently being developed around the world will even be partially-effective.
This uncertainty is corrosive of our institutions whether they be commercial, political, artistic or sporting, and the long term implications of all of this can only emerge over time.
Brexit, by contrast, is more straightforward, as it becomes clearer by the day how damaging, short-sighted, irrational and essentially masochistic this whole enterprise is. I note that highly skilled and qualified people are already voting with their feet and choosing to relocate to countries within the Eurozone. They will presumably be followed by the flight of capital, as the wealthy (who are, of course, in possession of more than one passport) begin to remove themselves and their wealth from poor old Blighty, once the shit really begins to hit the fan. Ironically, the Brexit-supporting amongst them may be forced by deteriorating conditions in the United States, to relocate to Europe, of all places, where they will presumably continue to either, assure the rest of us that everything is going swimmingly, or blame us for the fact that it’s not. To quote an anonymous ballad sung by British soldiers in the Great War,

It’s the same the whole world over.
It’s the poor wot get’s the blame,
It’s the rich wot get’s the gravy,
Ain’t it all a bleeding shame?

The transformation of Kent into one huge lorry park, the end of most foreign travel, and shortages of food and essential medicines in the New Year are likely to be only the start…
But, of course, things may all turn out for the better…

The Author August 2020

Letting the Jinn out of the bottle

Letting the Jinn out of the bottle

Something blindingly-obvious occurred to me this morning, something that had never occurred to me previously, but once thought of, could not be subsequently unthought. My insight was that tech, and by this I mean the goods and services purveyed by the billionaires in Silicon Valley, is our culture’s equivalent of the Jinn in Arabian folklore.
The Jinn is capable of great benevolence and possesses miraculous powers, as befits a supernatural entity. But its benevolence comes with a price tag attached. Our relationship with modern ICT would seem a perfect analogue to the wonders formerly promised by the Jinn once released from its bottle, with the difference that your smart device actually delivers to anyone with a phone contract or a broadband connexion. With none of that inconvenient rooting around in dark and dusty caves looking for magical oil lamps.
The wonders performed by modern ICT would (and did) appear wondrous to my parents’ generation, who lived in a world where news came from printed media, two television channels and three radio networks, the banks closed at three (so if you ran out of cash, tough!), telecommunications were strictly voice-only from fixed locations, and researching almost anything usually required a visit to the local library (which also tended to close early!).
I was born and grew to adulthood in this world, and things didn’t really begin to change significantly in practical terms until the beginning of the nineties (although cash machines/ATMs had become available from the mid-seventies, and video gaming had become popular), with the notion of cyberspace confined to science fiction novels. Then, the personal computer, the mobile phone, and the internet all came along in short order, to revolutionise the way we do almost everything.
I find it difficult to think back to a world where you can’t answer almost any question in seconds, where you don’t have instantaneous electronic communication with all your friends, where you can’t remotely map and view almost any location on Earth, or listen to virtually any piece of music at any hour of the day or night.
However, I do remember how frustrating, how slow, and how boring it all was. So I am grateful for Google Documents, email, SMS, Wikipedia, YouTube, Google Maps and all the million and one applications that make life today so much easier.
But nothing ever comes for free…
In exchange for the convenience of all these lovely (and apparently free!) tools and applications, we give (unless we are very savvy) the tech giants unlimited access to our personal data, which they obviously want to exploit commercially by targeting appropriate advertising based on what they (or their algorithms) know about us. There is nothing intrinsically wrong in this, if it means that we are alerted to products and services which we are likely to want to buy, although these algorithms would seem somewhat unsophisticated in their predictions, if personal experience is anything to go by, but hey! Maybe I’m just contrary.
However, If this data falls into the wrong hands, it can be used by criminal enterprises half a world away, adding a whole new level of anxiety, as cyber crime can potentially strike us from anywhere on the globe.
However the most insidious consequences of letting the Jinn of artificial intelligence out of the bottle are less obvious, but actually pose the most serious threats to our society. I refer, of course, to the impact of social media.
People who have been following this blog will know what’s coming next…
The unintended consequences of the spread of social media have included; the destabilising of conventional media and the undermining of journalistic ethics and good practice; the creation of ‘echo chambers’ whereby large numbers of people rely entirely on partial media for their news and current affairs, and are never exposed to any content that challenges their prejudices and preconceptions; the wholesale spreading of falsehoods and insane conspiracy theories; and finally, the creation of forums that enable and facilitate people with dangerous and anti-social views to meet and act in concert.
Did I leave anything out?
The overall effect has been the promotion of extreme views and the destabilising of democracy, which, for all its faults, remains the fairest, most humane and most efficient form of government yet devised.
But it’s not just random nutters we have to contend with…
Much more worrying is the clear evidence that the fabulously rich and privileged elite who run the tech giants have actively been promoting an agenda of ‘disruption’ designed to bring about a series of economic, social and political changes that they believe will benefit themselves and their corporations, to the detriment of virtually everybody else. I was recently both intrigued by the BBC series Secrets of Silicon Valley, which documented this, and appalled by the sanctimony and arrogance of many of the people leading these companies, who appeared to have bought into their own PR, and had adopted the view that their selfish actions are somehow morally justified.
Do no harm, anyone?
In the short term, the upshot of all of the above has been to put us all at the mercy of the various dangerous populists who have come to power in key countries around the world.
Returning to my opening analogy, my inevitable conclusion is that getting the Jinn back in the bottle is a lot harder than freeing it in the first place, and the consequences of summoning this spirit and making use of its miraculous powers, may now have become unstoppable.
The Author June 2020

‘The Roaring Twenties’

‘The Roaring Twenties’

It’s New Year’s Day and what’s that sound filling the air? Well, if you’re in the Antipodes it’s probably the roar of bushfires as they consume your neighbourhood. A former friend moved to Australia with her husband a while back, and lives in Sydney, I’m wondering how she regards that decision today. I’m also wondering how much longer the television series Wanted Down under will continue to be made (or even shown), and I’m thinking that this may turn out to be a post-Brexit windfall for Boris Johnson and the Brexiteers, with a steady stream of skilled expatriates returning from the Southern Hemisphere to take the jobs recently vacated by those EU citizens heading back across the Channel. My niece is already here, and her parents may not be too far behind.
As ever, I feel like I’m in some way inextricably-linked to unfolding events, as no sooner do I write about something than life starts to imitate art. In a passage from my current novel …when you wish upon a star, I write about an Australia being consumed by flames, with a scene set in a gridlocked traffic queue inching its way to hope-for safety, beset on all sides by fire. This has now become a reality for thousands of unfortunate Australians in New South Wales and Victoria.
Although it’s gratifying on one level to be part of the zeitgeist, it’s not something I expected to be happening this soon. It all adds to the feeling of apprehension as we contemplate the 2020’s, a feeling that it may already be too late and climate change has become inevitable. In …when you wish upon a star I write about a world consumed by fire and flood, but I set the worst consequences of this comfortably in the future. But it seems that the future is only too eager to start early, like the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse trying to crash your New Year’s Eve party, and guess what? They’ve brought a couple of extra friends, Fire and Flood, along with them.
In short, the coming decade is not filling me with a great sense of anticipation. Many people (I imagine) will be too lost in their personal orgy of unnecessary and conspicuous consumption to notice, and it may take something really ‘significant’ happening (like the World Cup or the Olympics being cancelled) before it registers.
However we have (very nearly) the worst possible set of political leaders in place at this moment, whose ‘strategy’ would appear to be denial, closely followed by lies and excuses. One can only hope that a new generation emerges, before it is too late.
Happy New Year
The Author January 2020

The flight from current realities

The flight from current realities

Modern cultural and political discourse appears to embody not merely a retreat into various forms of irrationality, but also a retreat into solipsism (and for many narcissism!). I confess that I’m guilty of the sin of solipsism; what is Lights in the sky if not a retreat from the unpleasant realities of the world that we find ourselves in? and I’m obviously not alone in seeking a refuge from an alarming and increasingly dangerous world.
Part of the novel form’s appeal is the degree of control it gives to the writer; without a director or stage manager, or a cast of actors to interpret your work, you are effectively God. What you as the author decree goes in the world you have created. This is especially true of the fields of fantastic literature and science fiction, where you literally create a new world in many cases, and I’m sure it’s no accident that these genres attracted a whole host of extreme personalities (Edgar Rice Burroughs, HP Lovecraft and Philip K Dick spring to mind, but there are others).
However the solipsism previously on offer to the novelist, the poet and the fabled lonely artist working in their garrett is now on offer to everyone. The online world and smartphone culture enables people to conduct large parts of their everyday business without having to directly interact with other people. People can conduct elaborate ‘friendships’ with people they will never meet, and, in the case of online celebrities, who remain completely unaware of their existence. It is possible (via gaming) to escape into virtual worlds of mind-boggling complexity and become utterly divorced from the world outside. I was slightly alarmed (but not surprised) to learn of a strain of scientific and philosophical thought that advocates perpetuating the human species (or maybe just themselves, I’m not quite sure!) within conveniently-wrought AI, enabling these lucky people to inhabit their private worlds (presumably) for all eternity.
There are obviously cultish aspects to all of the above beliefs and practices (and, I would argue, aspects of the transcendentalist and monastic religious experience), but for the would-be solipsist they offer yet another series of alternative realities where the individual is in sole control.
Of course out in the ‘real world’, it also offers that other breed of narcissists, the populists of the New Right, carte blanche to continue to mould the physical world in their own image; safe in the knowledge that the fractured solipsism of contemporary culture makes it unlikely that a sufficient number of potential opponents will ever be able to effectively organise against them.
Of course, a lot of this is symptomatic of a current reality where things are now ‘looking so grim that you have to wear shades’ (to misquote a minor alt-pop hit of the 90’s), and I’m drawn to Douglas Adams’ wonderful notion that the renegade President of the Galaxy, Zaphod Beeblebrox, would sport sunglasses that automatically obscure his vision whenever danger threatens.
Strikes me we’ve now all been issued with this particularly-useful piece of kit,
‘…impending global catastrophe, what do I care? I’m going to lose myself in whichever role-playing and world-building online game is flavour of the month! See you on the other side, or not!’
So what about your latest novel? I hear you all ask…
Well, chapter six is now complete, and Marta da Guia is now on the cusp of adolescence. I have reintroduced a familiar character, Klara, the emotional automaton (and prototype of the nursemaids on Alpha five) invented by Dr Helen Choi. Klara’s role will be that of the Greek Chorus I talked about in previous blogs, commenting on the action, and on the changes taking place in the wider world.
However this volume is inevitably (with apologies to Gabriel Garcia-Marquez) a Chronicle of a Death Foretold, we know how this story is going to end, and it’s not good…
This narrative appears to me completely appropriate in our current times…
The Author November 2019