Flummoxed

 “VIRTUAL (adjective)— almost or nearly as described, but not completely or according to strict definition.”

Words are my thing. This came about because of my need to describe things that defy description. Without a command of words, such descriptions are literally impossible. Once gained to a degree, word-mastery allows my task to be only ‘virtually’ impossible, as I try to describe what’s wrong with our ‘virtual’ world.

I am flummoxed (there’s a word!) these days, by the continued attempt to do the literally impossible, as I watch people attempt to substitute ‘virtual reality’ in situations where no alternatives are feasible. It’s as delusional as substituting photographs of food for actual food, and placing them in front of hungry people with the statement, “Well, it’s better than no food at all.”

Sorry, but it’s not!

Some things can be substituted for others of like kind, but unliving, electronic images cannot even come close to substituting for living human beings. They are dead effigies, and they stink of warm plastic, dust, and ozone. They have no weight, they do not breathe, they do not permeate the space around them.

It horrifies me that people seem unaware that they are cheating themselves in their willingness to “make do” with such false and sterile substitutes. They are only distracting themselves from their true bereavement.

I’m not talking about virtual communication in the workplace. That substitution is a necessary one, and much of its information exchange is as effective as it is in-person; sometimes even more so. No, I’m talking about the attempt to substitute virtual versions of mutual interactive gatherings; as in dancing, playing music, or singing together.

Such events are those whose meaning manifests itself in the physical interplay of gravity, momentum,  and visual perspective. They are pursuits that depend on the movement of air and the angle of vision; they are true partnerships which involve the actual exercise of corporeal energy. They require reciprocity; they require presence; they require shared space.

No shared undertaking which calls for the constant interplay of mutual adjustment can take place “virtually.”  

It’s just not possible!

In a simulated world, no sidelong glance of understanding between two people is viable.

The blank button of the camera will not admit the quick glint of a sidelong and private smile.

From my side of the hissing screen, these bloodless images are hostages behind glass.

In this inert world, no matter how far I lean, I can’t see around a single corner.

No matter what image I see, or how familiar it seems, it can’t tell if I’m looking at it or not.

 

Trust is required, to believe that a real person is represented by these sterile doppelgängers.

 

But the dreary truth is — I’m the only one here.