BTRIPP (btripp) wrote,

Fiction ...

Lean over the bowl and take a dive,
All of you are dead, but I am alive.

That, of course, is a quote from Philip K. Dick's "UBIK" ... Dick being the master of scrambled realities.

As those of you paying even cursory attention to my book reviews will realize, I read virtually no fiction these days (as opposed to back in highschool, where I typically plowed though a handful of sci-fi books every week), but I sort of got "hoodwinked" into reading what is, essentially, a novel {insert gasps of incredulous horror}. More details to come soon (i.e., the review).

However, the shock of this aside, I had a strange "things that make you go hmmmmmm" moment this morning while reading this. The story is somewhere out there in Doug Adams / Philip K. Dick / Terry Pratchett territory, with questions about what is real and what's just manifesting from some massive VR system. And it suddenly hit me, the total implausibility of my being out of work for as long as I have been, despite cranking out thousands of job applications, attending hundreds of networking events, and constantly pressing to be active, up-to-date, and as prepared-for-action as I can possibly muster. It's almost like there's some sort of "reality limiter" in place which prevents my getting a job. It simply is NOT permissible under the rules of this reality.

Now, this is evidently "crazy talk", I know. However, bear with me for a moment.

Back in 1993, I was in a horrific car crash that (in this experiential timeline) I only just survived. In the days following the crash, when I was in the ICU at a hospital in Rockford, I was having a very hard time of it ... having been, essentially, crushed nearly to death, with associated broken bones, and damaged internal organs ... and was both in extreme pain, and under massive medication. During this I had several "metaphysical" experiences, including what could have been described as a trip to Hell, where I have a very vague recall of "negotiating" for certain futures. I recall no details, but there's a sense that from that point I was no longer in "real time".

Reading that book this morning had me wondering if I actually died back in 1993 and that the past 20-some years (which have featured failure after failure, loss after loss, and a real sense of being "snakebit", doomed to frustration and despair) have been some strange VR purgatory. While it certainly is possible that I could have had everything that I have tried to do since then FAIL, the sheer volume of effort that I've put out to make something work should have, by sheer probability (it only takes one job application to get hired, and I've sent out thousands), resulted in something other than the locked-into-failure state that I've been in for (most notably the past 6.5 years) ages.

Part of me is half-expecting a previously-unnoticed door to open and the director of this little morality play to wander in and debrief me ... while another part of me thinks it's more like the bedroom scene in 2001 A Space Odyssey, with the character doomed to age and die in an artificial environment.

Bleh. Maybe this is why I've been so diligent in avoiding fiction over the past 20 years.

Visit the BTRIPP home page!

  • Post a new comment


    default userpic

    Your reply will be screened

    Your IP address will be recorded 

    When you submit the form an invisible reCAPTCHA check will be performed.
    You must follow the Privacy Policy and Google Terms of use.