SIMULACRUM OF HISTORY

In 2091, the Anti-HyperRealist Party, also known as the Ahrps, were locked in internecine struggle with the Reformed Baudrillardians for control of the Global Throng (the GTs) and its power to design the next Generation of cyborgs. A few weeks before Double Saints Ronnie Day (although historiography was outsourced to a consortium of BollyHolly interests, every school-cyborg knew of the two saints who were officially merged into a single McReagan), the Reformed Baudrillardians joined forces with the BollyHollians to control the GTs and its design of the next Generation. The design was uploadized to all person-devices, and named "Gagaslacrum," after a long-forgotten, but once influential entertainer-turned-media mogul. Immediately Ahrps were rounded up and sent to various mallparks for rehabilitation. Many were merged with a later version of Gagaslacrum. The original Pre-Cyborgian model was promoted on fast-track to sainthood (by edict of BollyHolly) due to her influence on the design of later Generations.

ELECTRONIFIED LIFEWORLD

I have accused teen daughter Sanjina of living in an electronic cocoon. Her typical answer to any question from me is to say, "Huh?" Then she has to remove her earplugs and I repeat the question.

To be fair, though, we all live in a media-rich environment and a mediatized society. As I write this, I'm listening to NPR and the show, To the Best of Our Knowledge, today about a novel with Prophet Muhammad's third wife, who traditionally but probably mistakenly was thought to have been nine-years-old at the time of marriage, as narrator. This is followed by Garrison Keillor reading someone's poetry. Even the poetry I'm exposed to is electronic! I'll soon read some news online and later go to gym so I can simultaneously exercise and watch some Super Bowl.

I'm definitely "electronified," too (I coined this word), so perhaps I should get over my frustration with Sanjina's usual Huh? answer. When I was a teen, I'd hear from another room my mother's voice, "Please, turn down the radio!" She must not have appreciated the artistry of Paul Revere and the Raiders or the Animals or, earlier, the Everly Brothers or Gene Vincent and the Topcats. Seems that the rock-n-rolled, electronified teen is still with us. Huh? What d'ya say?

SMOKE, MIRRORS, AND SCREENS

My 'puter screen has a wallpaper webshot changing at 30-second intervals of a 54" high-definition TV showing a continuous-loop movie of Through the Looking Glass, in which the person (me) watching it becomes the main character and when "Alice" gazes in the hand glass at herself/(myself), the inebriated angel in A Wonderful Life flashes her entire life before her/(my) eyes and comes to a denouement with me (real me) staring at my 'puter screen waiting to recognize a familiar life.