Author: Mark Renney
We spend most of our time within the game. Until less than a year ago, I had been one of the majority and I believed that the opportunities we had were unlimited. It is all right there at our fingertips. All we have to do is simply reach out and grab it and we can do whatever we want to do; climb Mount Everest or swim the channel or trek across the Sahara. There isn’t anyone alive now who remembers a time before the game. All those old arguments that, whatever we do within it, isn’t real, that it doesn’t count or matter are of course redundant. If you decide to climb the mountain you have to be prepared and committed because you will experience every single footstep. Every second of the journey will feel authentic and the experience will be real.
But it isn’t the big stuff that concerns me, or at least it wasn’t to begin with. It was the small things, the mundane and everyday rituals that hardly register with us. Sitting and reading a book or newspaper, watching television or a film, listening to music. We all do these things but only within the game. But of course, it didn’t matter, everything was available, and our choices were infinite and then I discovered my grandfather’s list.
I found the list tucked in a drawer whilst sorting through my mother’s belongings. I presumed at first my grandfather had recorded his reading habits for that particular year, although there was a no preamble or introduction, and he hadn’t reviewed or rated any of the books. He had simply listed the titles and the names of the authors, none of whom I recognised.
It was a printout of a blog post but when I looked for the site on the outside it had been deleted. I was intrigued and decided it would be interesting to read some of these works and was surprised when I found they were all unavailable within the game. But I assumed that when something fell out of fashion and was forgotten it was removed. After all, the game is all about what we want and what is relevant. Anyway, I could easily find the books on the outside.
The game is a vast online continent where we all reside, and the outside is the abandoned wasteland that surrounds it. Equally as vast, it is the continent that hardly anyone now visits.
I was shocked to discover that the books were also missing on the outside. Some of the writers were fleetingly mentioned in a few articles and reviews but there was no real information about them. No biographies or obituaries. And I couldn’t accept that, because something had been forgotten, it could disappear entirely.
I was determined to find the books and I have begun to search out in the real world, where there are still mountains of old books and although hardly anyone buys or reads them, there are still shops and libraries. These places are often hidden away and difficult to locate but I will seek them out wherever they are and whenever I am able.
I still spend time within the game of course but my heart isn’t really in it, not anymore.
Depressing and too true. Give me the good old days. Before the game. Nice work.
Brilliant and beautiful cautionary tale. (Thanks for the heads up!)