My mind rebels at stagnation

“Give me problems, give me work” – thus sayeth Sherlock Holmes.  Though possessed of a superhuman enthusiasm and eye for detail when at his best, Holmes could barely function in the absence of a new case or a worthy opponent.  So fares humanity in the face of complacency and routine.  We have become anaesthetized by the apathy afforded to us by our gadgets, by our pursuit of ever more “entertainment” that arouses mainly – in lieu of curiosity – one’s sense of schadenfreude.  We used to dream of setting foot on Mars – now we pine for the iPhone 5.  As much as Steve Jobs deserves credit for pushing the boundaries of technology, the rest of us should be ashamed at how we allow the numbing convenience of that technology change us into passive receivers of information, or worse, robotic consumers valued only for our ability to enter our PIN at the cash register.  Human beings are more than that, aren’t we?

I don’t want to sound like the Luddite pining for the days of the telegraph and the cotton gin as civilization advances around him.  I’m as guilty as the next guy.  I have a smartphone, a high-def television, a PVR, a Wii, a Blu-ray player and Netflix; I tweet, blog, use Facebook, Quora and many other social networking sites.  Gadgetry is cool, there are no two ways about it.  Stephen Fry, who – apart from my friend Tadd – may possibly be the most literate man alive, has long been obsessed with advances in technology but has not let that passion diminish his zeal for the irreplaceable substance of the written word.  There has been more than enough dystopian fiction penned about losing ourselves amidst the efficiencies of the mechanized society.  The challenge is, as always, to integrate that technology into life without abandoning oneself to it entirely – to log out every once in a while and reconnect with the organic.  To look back at where we’ve been and learn from what has gone before.

There is an interesting parallel to this when it comes to writing, especially in the fields of science fiction and fantasy.  Too many authors, it seems to me, get caught up in creating their worlds – crafting unpronounceable place and character names (rife with apostrophes), imagining new systems of religion and government, fanciful creatures, mythical objects and rules of magic.  While those kinds of details are certainly important, they’re the icing, not the cake.  Key to any successful story, no matter the genre, is the humanity of the characters – that their emotions and conflicted feelings can be understood and shared.  I’m not a huge Harry Potter fan; J.K. Rowling focuses too much on weird beings, MacGuffins and deus ex machina for my liking, but the reason Harry Potter works and reaches the audience it does is that everyone can understand the sense of alienation from the rest of the world and the wish fulfillment of finding out that one is truly special after all.  As large book retailers go bankrupt like falling dominoes and e-readers eat up the market, hopefully the humanity of our stories will continue to shine through – from the glowing screen if not from the printed page.  We must take care not to let the pursuit of greater technology become our raison d’etre – if so, we are only the Borg minus the physical implants.  Rather, technology’s aim should be the enhancement of the human spirit – to make our souls shine brighter and stand apart from the darkness.  To do otherwise simply does not compute.

Snookered

Okay, so I am a huge fan of The West Wing.  I am burning a hole in my DVD copies of all seven seasons.  The kind of obscurities that Trekkies love to dredge up about their own holy grail, I can dish on TWW.  Episode titles.  Great lines.  Guest stars.  Writing credits.  One-shot characters.  Inconsistencies of established backstory.  The fact that H. Richard Greene appears in Season 3 as an obscure congressman worried about his re-election prospects and then turns up again in Season 5 as the same character, now Senate Majority Leader, has my mind twisting in knots in its more idle moments wondering how such a transformation could ever occur in real life.  Yes, I am a dork.  Or more precisely, a Wing-nut.  I’m sure I’ll delve further into why I dig it so much in future posts.  The reason I mention it is that today my West Wing enthusiasm led me to do something lame.  Basically, to get snookered by a Twitter impostor posing as Martin Sheen.

I’ve been following this “Not-even-an-Estevez” for a few days.  His tweets seemed pretty genuine.  But in my squealing-teenager-ness, I forgot the cardinal rule – look for the damn blue checkmark.  So in blissful ignorance, I decided to send this person who I thought was Martin Sheen a compliment.  Here’s how it looked:

Me:  “Two Cathedrals” [the acclaimed second season finale of TWW] was a masterpiece of writing, directing and especially acting.  Thank you for it.

Fake Martin Sheen responded within a few minutes.

Fakey-McFake-Fake:  @thegrahammilne Two Cathedrals was great.  I love the cameo by @Lawrence O’Donnell, who if you didn’t know also wrote for the show.

Here’s where I then go off the rails into nuttery, thinking I’m impressing “the man”:

Me:  He was great!  I believe he also wrote that wonderful scene for you and Alan Alda over ice cream in “In God We Trust.”

Sheesh.  You can practically hear the girlish giggles.  It’s not great, but it would have been not quite so egregious had whoever this person is actually been the real Martin Sheen.  Turns out not only is he not, but the real Emilio Estevez (@EMILIOTHEWAY, which does have the damn blue checkmark) has been waging a Twitter war with this impostor trying to get him to stop pretending to be dear old dad.  Something I would have realized had I been a little more studious in reading the Big Faker’s entire twitterstream.

But it got me thinking as to why someone would choose to do this.  Why they’d put themselves out there pretending to be someone else and continue to maintain the lie even when challenged by someone with an emotional connection to the real person.  Yes, I know all about internet trolling.  I just don’t quite see what the appeal is, other than the “lulz.”  This lulz of yours confuses and enrages me, to quote LrrrMaybe making other people feel like idiots is really what gets some individuals’ rocks off.  I just can’t help thinking it’s a terribly transitory and lonely sense of gratification.  Big laugh followed by an equally large hollowness.

Right now, I have about 40 Twitter followers on any given day.  It tends to bounce up and down around that mark as new people follow me, decide I have nothing interesting to say and then disappear.  Were the grand scheme of Twitterati likened to the scale of the solar system, Lady Gaga and Justin Bieber would be the sun and I’d probably be a few notches past the termination shock (look it up).  But I’d rather have these 40 than the 3,300-odd that Fakerooney has conned into thinking he’s Ramon Estevez Sr.  Because I know they’re here for me – what I am saying as myself and not false sentiments I’m forcing from someone else’s mouth.  I’m not leeching off anybody else’s fame – my successes and failures are entirely my own from here on out, wherever this ends up leading.

And I (me, the real Graham Milne) think that’s pretty cool.  Or, put another way, pathetically hipster.  But I’ll stick with the former.

What’s next?

I am born

Whether I shall turn out to be the hero of my own life, etcetera and so on.  Probably doesn’t do much good to start out with blatant plagiarism.  Then again, Charles Dickens (that’s Dikkens with two K’s, the well-known Dutch author) has been dead for 150 years so maybe no one will notice.  Unless Phil Dickens, his great-great-great-grandson, has a penchant for surfing obscure, just-started blogs for kicks.  But as I understand copyright law (a level of comprehension sandwiched somewhere between “layman” and “utter ignoramus”), I think I might be okay.

Look at this – a brand new blog, born on the fourth of July!  Aw, crap, there’s the phone, it’s Ron Kovic’s lawyer.  Yes, sorry about that.  Birthed on the 27th last day of the seventh month, is that better?  I suppose this riff on infringement and plagiarism is a roundabout way to ask if the world needs another blog.  According to the Great Encyclopedia of Earthly Knowledge (G.E.E.K., better known to you as Wikipedia) there are 156 million blogs on this planet.  156 million and change variably informed people holding court about politics, religion, celebrities, recipes, their damn kids, the history of Romanian cabinet making and just about any other esoteric topic you can think of (see “Long Tail of Media, The”).  What could I possibly contribute other than the merest infinitesimal escalation of the background noise?

More to the point, what is it about the internet that compels otherwise reserved people to spew their ramblings into the void of cyberspace?  I’m reminded of Voyager 2, which has been flying through space since the late 70′s on its way out of our solar system.  This tiny hunk of metal, at latest report over 13 light-hours from earth, still sending streams of data back to its masters on the blue speck out there in the darkness, and continuing to do so until its power trickles down to nothing in the next 13 years.  Crying out even though no one may be listening.  That’s your blogger in a nutshell.  If you’re lucky, somebody who’s interested picks up the transmission.

What it’s really about is the exchange of ideas.  But to get started with that, I’ve gotta put my ideas out there.  And I have more than a few to share.  If you read something of mine that makes you smile, makes you think, makes you punch through the screen screaming “fffffffffuuuuuu,” then something worthy has been achieved.  (Maybe not the latter so much – you might think I owe you a new monitor.)  What you can expect – my declaration of principles as it were – is my three H’s – honesty, heart and hope.

So let’s see where we go with this thing and what we find along the way.  And feel free to let me know how I’m doing.  If you like what you find here, or if you just think I’m an utterly pretentious douche, say so.  It’s the only way I’ll learn.

Namaste and welcome aboard,

Graham