The View from Nowhere

I have a soft-spot for ’60s mind expansion propaganda.  There is something irresistibly optimistic about the notion that life’s secrets can be easily revealed through the simple application of controlled substances.  This type of mis-information is typical for the baby boomer generation.  They are a generation singularly defined by their unreasonable amounts of optimism in all things, not least their own sense of self-importance.

In many ways I find the entire hoax offensive, that the hubris of a generation of ever-increasing irrelevance could fool their own children and grandchildren into a situation where they accept as truth the very lies and misconceptions that they themselves worked to disprove.  As much as Nixon and his contemporaries are portrayed as the enemy of the hippies, the real enemy are the hippies themselves who, for the most part, shaved, trimmed and lined up for office jobs and high paying corporate positions.

So, knowing this, is the only option to discard the information and attempt to discover new truths?  This approach seems short sighted and as much of a mistake as the cultural experimentation of the past.  No, it seems that there are lessons to be learned, foremost amongst them is that the status quo possesses incredible inertia and it will take Herculean effort to move them, much more than good vibes and a sense of righteousness.

Although I am generally distrustful of Boomer heroes, Hunter S. Thompson stands out among them.  He put it best when he described the “meat hook realities” in store for the “failed Seekers” who followed Timothy Leary down the rabbit hole of LSD mysticism.  He was referring to the hippies of his day but the same could be said of all of the Seekers to come.  After the eight hours of enlightenment we unfortunately are forced to remain residents of this world.

While recently watching the timeless classic “Strange Brew” starring everyone’s favorite hosers Bob and Doug McKenzie (played by Rick Moranis and Dave Thomas) I began to wonder about passivity in entertainment.  Much has been said about tv and brain rotting, video games and violence, Teletubbies and the apocalypse but what about the rapid loss of social skills in relation to the consumption of media?  Media is…. well mediated.  As we sit in front of the screen we have certain expectations.  Things we see should be interesting, require little commitment, and be available by request, meaning it shuts up when we want it to.  After thousands of hours of media consumption in a lifetime, how much of these expectations sneak into daily living?  Back to Bob and Doug.  In the film folks are outraged at the poor quality of the movie.  They throw food, boo, and then stampede the exit.  While watching this I had a hard time imagining people who would behave this way.  Even if completely disgusted would they be so expressive?  It seems like folks would just silently file out muttering to each other.  Sure, I’m talking about fake reactions depicted in a work of fiction but the point is that this kind of active involvement in a live experience seemed foreign to me and this shows that it is not something that I see very often.  While attending a performance of local improvisation group Theatre Sports I noticed that most people wanted to stay as far away from the stage as possible.  Odd, since that is the whole point of going is to have a participatory experience.  I wonder how many people I interact with on a daily basis think to themselves, “how can I change the channel?”

Playing games is an instinctual urge.  Children are most readily associated with the notion of game playing in part because it is something that humans are pre-wired to do.  Children’s games are pretty abstract.  Playing with imaginary items, people, or animals is not an uncommon aspect of games kids play.  Ideas and concepts are completely at the whimsy of the players where they make entirely new worlds and experiment within the new boundaries created.  Since children are not autonomous, adults are often nearby to witness these activities and the tiny people who play them.  These adults may feel pride at the creative impulses of their own offspring.  “That’s my kid, damn is he/she smart!” the adults may say.  Grown-up observers may also feel nostalgic for the easy-goingness of times past.  “Ah if it were only that simple,” sighs the onlooker.  Of course there may be joy in just feeling superior, “Ah that’s kids stuff!” they might scoff.

As we age the games become more concrete.  Gone are the times where sticks substitute for swords, standing on a table fills in for a high tower, and making sound effects with your mouth is generally frowned upon (unless you are Bobby McFerrin).  Sports are OK to play but are more often just observed.  For the nerdy, video games are acceptable.  Cards, board games, puzzles, Bingo; these are the games allowed for adults.

It seems that games are something that we grow out of.  Or do we?  If games are something that we come out of the womb knowing how to play, how is it possible that we forget how to play them?  The answer is that life becomes the game.  Academics have understood this for a long time.  Freud’s psychoanalytical model of adults simply as larger children touches on this idea.  More recently economic ideas such as game theory make this even more explicit.  The now widely disregarded psychologist Timothy Leary framed it perfectly, adult games are not a sideline to life, games are life.  Think of major life phases; school, family, work, parenthood, friendship.  Each one of these can be conceptualized as a discrete game with its own rules and customs.  Culture can be thought of this way as well.  Break it down and even a conversation between two people can be viewed as a game.  Leary took this to the extreme (is this a surprise?) even referring to himself in the third person as “the Tim Leary game”. Perhaps this extreme viewpoint is unhelpful and even distracting but the take-home is, as it is with any game, what are the rules and who is making them?

Society chugs along best when rules are well known and followed.  Civil order is founded on this concept.  Oddly enough, we now live in a world so regulated that it is now physically impossible to memorize all the laws which govern behavior.  No one can completely know the rules to the game of life. On one hand this may be viewed as incredibly liberating, why bother to worry about all the laws if you know you can never learn them?  On the other hand it could be viewed as horrifically stifling.  I think most people split the difference, exploring the idea that ignorance of the law is bliss while engaging in behavior that they understand either through common sense or common custom, to be “safe”.  As long as they are “safe” they don’t have to worry.  This solves the practical issue of incarceration, but what about the childish expression of playful gaming?  If so many rules have been made that no one can ever know all of them and everyone is playing it safe where is the fun?  Where is the game even?  Are we simply gears in this globalized capital machine?

No, we’re not, even if we are.  Safe, blissful, and ignorant we may make our own games on a human level.  We take control of the situation ourselves.  Subcultures, countercultures, cliques, groups, organizations, even dinner out at a quirky restaurant or drinks at a new bar called Barf where beverages are served in bedpans and the walls are covered in novelty vomit and plastic dog poo provide opportunities to define new rules and thus create new games.  The rules are made by the heads of these establishments.  Dad makes the rules, Mom makes the rules, the boss makes the rules, the bouncer makes the rules, the club president makes the rules.  Spontaneous games created on the fly when people meet on the street for example, can be expected to follow predefined rules of etiquette or can be hijacked by the loudest talker, the most indifferent, the wittiest, the list goes on.  The key to life, like any other game, is to learn the rules (or make them up yourself) and then excel at playing.  Within the hyper-complex, infinitely flexible word of adult life this is nearly impossible.  That doesn’t mean that we should stop trying.  After all, wouldn’t quitting just be childish?