“So our bodies are just cages, right. They keep us from truly experiencing the world. I mean, think about it. Sure, we can smell, feel, see, hear and taste. We can sense temperature, balance, pain, we're aware of where each of our body parts are. Other stuff too, I think, I forget. But this isn't enough. We're slaves to our senses, they keep us on a leash. It's like we're all living in a bubble. I met this guy he showed me a way to escape- no don't give me that look, not drugs, I've tried that, tried altering my mind, tried altering my perception, but it didn't work. This is something else. A machine that changes everything, let's you go beyond the edges of your own consciousness. It's like when people talk about having out of body experiences during operations, they say they fly above themselves, see what's happening, describe everything the surgeon did, things they shouldn't have seen. It's like that but times a thousand. It scatters you across space, maybe even time, shows you life from the point of view of others, people and creatures all at the same time. In an instant, as well as watching myself like the surgical patient, I saw what a robin sees as it flies about, sung the whale's song, experienced a myriad of global experiences- sold snacks on a Bombay street, hot dogs in New York, cleaned toilets in Brazil, sat on a throne somewhere, I’m not sure where (Norway, maybe), and listened to a lecture on theoretical physics at Harvard. I took off the leash, bent and went through the bars, burst the bubble, stepped outside myself. For real, no lies.
“Hmm, don’t believe me, eh? Well, look at this!”
John pulled up the sleeve covering his left arm and hand to reveal, first, his missing thumb and then the place on his forearm where it now protruded quite uselessly.
“See. Doesn’t work perfectly yet, can’t put you back together quite right. Better than when they tested it on dogs, though. Sorry. Hopefully it’ll go back next time.”
The barman appeared to collect pots at that moment and remarked, “Talking to the guide dog collection box again, John? What on earth do they give you up there?”
“They don’t give me anything, I’ve told you that.”
“Yeah? Sure they don’t. Makes no matter to us, anyway, long as you use the place to get beer tokens. Artificiality in any form is best. It’s what we thrive on.”
“Oh this is real,” said John, raising his eyebrows and finishing off his pint. He handed it to Steve in his left hand, stump out, a terrible smile on his face.
The barman, seeing the missing thumb, retreated quickly, fearing the worst for John. There were far too many nasty rumours about that place.
Steve giggled to himself and thought about the journeys he might make tomorrow and how no one would ever believe him or ever know his place in history.
“Hmm, don’t believe me, eh? Well, look at this!”
John pulled up the sleeve covering his left arm and hand to reveal, first, his missing thumb and then the place on his forearm where it now protruded quite uselessly.
“See. Doesn’t work perfectly yet, can’t put you back together quite right. Better than when they tested it on dogs, though. Sorry. Hopefully it’ll go back next time.”
The barman appeared to collect pots at that moment and remarked, “Talking to the guide dog collection box again, John? What on earth do they give you up there?”
“They don’t give me anything, I’ve told you that.”
“Yeah? Sure they don’t. Makes no matter to us, anyway, long as you use the place to get beer tokens. Artificiality in any form is best. It’s what we thrive on.”
“Oh this is real,” said John, raising his eyebrows and finishing off his pint. He handed it to Steve in his left hand, stump out, a terrible smile on his face.
The barman, seeing the missing thumb, retreated quickly, fearing the worst for John. There were far too many nasty rumours about that place.
Steve giggled to himself and thought about the journeys he might make tomorrow and how no one would ever believe him or ever know his place in history.
Written for the Light and Shade Challenge from the following written prompt: "We live on the leash of our senses" - Diane Ackerman.
However, after looking into the quote, I found the following paragraph and, pasting it at the top of my document with certain phrases made bold, I used these also as prompts and tried to work them in too.
''We live on the leash of our senses,'' she says. They ''define the edges of consciousness.'' Yet we haven't treated these voluptuous faculties of ours very well. It seems to be the essence of the modern attitude to distrust the natural, even as we proclaim it. Our senses are callused, covered with the scar tissue of our sophistication. There is a tendency now to condescend to nature. As Marshall McLuhan said, we've begun to prefer artificiality.
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