Geoff Ellis searches for the sweet spot between reality and virtuality. By Geoff Ellis
I WAS arranging a much needed connection to Starlink, Elon's user friendly satellite service. The tech guru told me I’d made the right choice because I live "in the middle of nowhere".
Seems to me we live in the middle of everywhere. While waiting for my toast to pop the other morning I checked on a few friends. One had been fighting fires overnight in northern NSW, one was hunkering down for a heatwave in Newcastle and another breathlessly reported “just rode to Cabramatta to visit my favourite roast duck and pork place. The whole market area was buzzing with hundreds of people, and it was only 8.00 am!"
I WAS arranging a much needed connection to Starlink, Elon's user friendly satellite service. The tech guru told me I’d made the right choice because I live "in the middle of nowhere".
Seems to me we live in the middle of everywhere. While waiting for my toast to pop the other morning I checked on a few friends. One had been fighting fires overnight in northern NSW, one was hunkering down for a heatwave in Newcastle and another breathlessly reported “just rode to Cabramatta to visit my favourite roast duck and pork place. The whole market area was buzzing with hundreds of people, and it was only 8.00 am!"
My morning coffee isn't complete without acerbic memes posted from North Wonthaggi. If I need further confirmation that we are all going to hell in The Don's hand basket, SBS is there with news bulletins direct from Europe, Asia and the rest of the great big world of real politics, not the confected push-me-pull-you Canberra shenanigans.
And I reckon we’re in the middle of every when. Thanks to Spotify I’m living in the seventies again. Or still. Who listens to the radio? When a million song choices aren't enough, there's podcasts aplenty or docos to transport back to any era. My current fave is Rex's Hangar - never realised the development of long range bombers in the 30s was so, mmmm, mind numbing. If we could turn back time, I'd be zooming there all night.
TV? I'm currently binging The Twilight Zone. "The Monsters are due on Maple Street", made over 40 years ago, is so interchangeable with our reality that a cameo from President Trump would not confuse me. Want to go deeper into another era? Online gaming can take you anywhere at any time.
Another symptom of the implosion of time is fashion. Within the bounds of social decency and employer expectations we're empowered to choose from across the previous six decades with no sense of irony apart from “one size fits all”.
So as the coffee cools the nexus between the tangible and the comfortably virtual approaches. It's easy to get lost in rabbit warrens and savour everything, everywhere as long as there is a phone, laptop or even a TV. And a strong connection.
Or shut it all down. Get into action.
Is there contentment in the virtual world? I find it in that pause, that moment of a journey completed and anticipation of the next: Sitting at a blank screen with cold coffee, bright sunshine, a long to-do list and no particular place to go.
And I reckon we’re in the middle of every when. Thanks to Spotify I’m living in the seventies again. Or still. Who listens to the radio? When a million song choices aren't enough, there's podcasts aplenty or docos to transport back to any era. My current fave is Rex's Hangar - never realised the development of long range bombers in the 30s was so, mmmm, mind numbing. If we could turn back time, I'd be zooming there all night.
TV? I'm currently binging The Twilight Zone. "The Monsters are due on Maple Street", made over 40 years ago, is so interchangeable with our reality that a cameo from President Trump would not confuse me. Want to go deeper into another era? Online gaming can take you anywhere at any time.
Another symptom of the implosion of time is fashion. Within the bounds of social decency and employer expectations we're empowered to choose from across the previous six decades with no sense of irony apart from “one size fits all”.
So as the coffee cools the nexus between the tangible and the comfortably virtual approaches. It's easy to get lost in rabbit warrens and savour everything, everywhere as long as there is a phone, laptop or even a TV. And a strong connection.
Or shut it all down. Get into action.
Is there contentment in the virtual world? I find it in that pause, that moment of a journey completed and anticipation of the next: Sitting at a blank screen with cold coffee, bright sunshine, a long to-do list and no particular place to go.