When asked whether or not we live in cyberspace I inevitably, and probably selfishly, ask whether or not I feel myself floating through the subspace particles of ones and zeros. The answer is invariably a large “No.” Then the question of everyone else lops its flabby self onto the coffee table and I’m forced to investigate beyond my own rubber padded containment field. I do serve as the A-typical subject in the matter of technological know-how and possession. You see, I still wander around my networking with the anachronistic caveman tech known as the flip phone. While the rest of the world, New Jersey that is as everyone knows “the center of everything,” plugs into that little square device colored with the Alan Turning icon on the label, while little Rob can’t figure out the workings of T-9.
So are these Borgian species in cyberspace? The guy on the bus with that stern look of intensity yesterday seemed to be. Of course, who wouldn’t want to ignore the rest of reality’s mundane covering when birds can help knock over green pigs? Who hasn’t been on a date with a chick sporting a little pink rectangle over her nose and mouth. I hear comp-sci guys find it sexy (beats me). wires seem to nullify the use of sirens, everyone in the library knows that head phones have a farther audio range than blue tooth and nothing gets through the blaring of Kesha. And we can’t forget texting-while-walking has become a serious public health hazard. People keep bumping into shit. But is all this evidence substantial enough to point fingers at technology and web? I seem to find myself wondering through the alternate dimension of existence, that is everything alternate to an alert understanding of the external world. More than once while turning onto the Lewis off Sumerset Ave I turned to my passenger and calmly proclaimed, “You don’t live at my house do you?”
Time slips off the clock and slides across the floor like water down a drain for many of the members of human society. Many ask, where it went, the details of Earthly rotation seem distant and fuzzy. So what if they miss the spin dressing for the cyborg look with wires and screens and little blinking lights minimizing the sunset and trees and all the other two eyed two eared creatures with interesting things to say and do. The rest of humanity that’s a little bit more squishy, cell phones and wires are hard, spends almost as much or even more time wrapped up in the fog of head space ignoring that physical phenomena called the outside world. Cyberspace is just another distraction the majority of distracted beings will learn to ignore. In meantime, I’ll wait at this bus stop not knowing when it will come. The thing with the red lights that supposedly tells the times is broken, and I hope that girl I asked just really likes Kesha and isn’t just pretending to listen to her iPhone because she thinks I’m creepy.