Yesterday evening I attended the opening at my local library – virtual reality is here – once the speeches were done those interested had the opportunity to try it out. After signing the piece of paper which I assume was to indicate I would take responsibility for myself, I watched a lad move about as if he were engaged in some physical activity while wearing the headpiece and headphones. When my turn came there seemed to be much fiddling about with the controls, I found it difficult to focus and then selected a language I neither speak nor read. Headpiece taken off while some fiddling was done and I began to wonder whether this was (yet another) an occasion when I should not be allowed near anything electromagnetic? Eventually had me listening to a voice which played the contents of someone’s diary, describing near-by action. Shadowy background and neon like lit persons walking across the screen, the sound of their footsteps being described. BORING. I have enjoyed more entertaining hallucinations.
Then onto a single item – stereo 360 degree vision of the environment of the castle of one’s choice. No movement. An upgraded, enhanced version of the old-fashioned coin in the slot thing on a jetty.
What I really want to try, and will see if it is possible to arrange, is to experience either a parachuting jump or falling off a cliff or high building. One, to see what it was I missed when booked for a parachute jumping weekend which was cancelled as I broke my ankle jumping down from a tree by the pond at Hampstead. The second to see if I can overcome the fear of falling. This used to be a constant element of nightmares until I could no longer conceive – fall pregnant in other words or symbols conveying the same message.
And it is the capacity of symbols to convey messages which is my main fascination. At the presentation last evening, we were shown a dot painting and then an aerial photograph of the location the dot painting represented. The presenter said the painter had used ‘inner vision’ and later agreed with me that the painting was an accurate, but abstract representation of the reality as seen from the aerial photograph. And it is this ‘inner vision’ which is my beef – and one I aim to treat as normal for some of the characters within my novels. For it is my contention that the area of the brain which we have trained into literacy is the area of the brain employed in symbolic communications which could (and I do) call telepathy. For direct communication, the telephone is more reliable; for clear vision we enjoy less (or no) access to that part of the brain which creates images symbolic of shared cultural experience. The iconoclasts have won. When(if ever) I manage to finish the novels already planned, I might tackle a fantasy entitled “Post Iconoclysm”.
I don’t know how long this desire to get out of bed and blog is going to last. If, as is usual for me, it won’t be long. Unless it forms part of the time my mind is busy working on the next scene in my current book – as I suspect is the case.
So far, I have no evidence anyone has read a full post to the end such as to elicit a response – other than a + sign in Google Plus. Which is fine in a way – it leaves me free to meander through my mind where I might surprise myself. My first coffee will be cold by now, have yet to sync my Garmin. Good news, with an egg-shell layer of foam on my mattress I have woken free of back and hip pain. All good and hey- it’s Saturday. Enjoy.
Just re-reading before I hit the publish button. What-if one could teleport, commit a crime and whip back into the body with a cast iron alibi. Surely this has already been done?