At home and at work?
Hey, checking in from Canada on Victoria Day where everything is closed except garden centres.
Everybody here is out there, planting real live stuff, for better or worse.
That said, holograms are big now. A virtual representation of anything, including oneself.
It’s got so bad that the world’s first hologram protest was held in Spain:
A protest group pulled off an undeniably futuristic stunt this weekend in Spain: they sent thousands of holograms parading past the lower house of the country’s parliament.
Stephen Hawking has a legitimate excuse, due to his physical disabilities, for claiming, via holography, that humanity needs to live in space, or else die out. But apart from problems like his, that he has battlled honourably, we used to talk about having skin in the game.
Wasn’t the whole point of a protest that we knew the government didn’t dare attack us during the peaceful exercise of our rights?
And then there are these weird claims about virtual reality bringing dead loved ones back to life, in our minds:
The hardware and software behind virtual reality is improving at a rapid rate, and that opens up new possibilities – like being able to chat with a computer-generated representation of someone who has long since shuffled off this mortal coil.
But then we can also now get mail from people who are dead too, as long as we don’t mind that it is generated by a computer program.
Okay, reality: As it happens, your Connecting blogger visits a 96 year-old person who lives across the way in an old age home, who keeps asking, what news of my father, my mother, my [beloved sister], my [beloved brother].
It’s not easy to tell a very aged person who has short term memory problems news he must have difficulty grasping: I only know the years in which the people he enquires after predeceased him.
He sees them all the time; I don’t. I am content to think they live forever. But I cannot bring them into the same frame of reality as me.
Yet in some sense that I don’t really understand, those people’s real selves are somehow present to him. That must be why he never loses touch with them, despite how much he has forgotten. He remembers them just as he remembers me (but I am there every day, so he would).
And I certainly cannot see how “virtual reality” would help. Those people belong to actual reality. Virtual reality is fun but don’t take it seriously:
Denyse O’Leary is a Canadian journalist, author, and blogger.