We Won’t Know What Hit Us

Blam. One day in the not-too-distant future we will wake up in the morning seeing our teeth fall out into the sink after brushing them. Actually, more likely than not, we will stand at the sink wondering when the last time was that we actually used a toothbrush. “When was that?” we will silently ponder as a few of our rotten molars skitter down the drain.

When was the last time you read a paper book, or spent the day away from a telephone (remember when they were called that?). When was the last time you spent the whole week fixing only homemade meals and never eating fast food? I remember when my mother, working a full-time job, would fix meals for a family of five every single day. Maybe we “ate out” two or three times a year. I am sitting here trying to think of other things I miss, but don’t remember what they are. Loss of memory sneaks up on you.

Sure, as time progresses, things get better, right? A touch-tone phone is better than a rotary phone, and a rotary phone is better than having to talk to an operator to make a call (I remember phones that had no rotary on them at all—just a black box with a handset). Better, right? Well, I can’t argue with that, sure, things are better. Or are they? Seems like everything developed is developed to make things “easier” on us, spinning a rotary on a phone is “easier” than talking to an operator—pushing buttons to make a call is “easier” than a rotary. And now, “clicking” a person’s name on a contact list is easier than pushing 7 buttons in sequence.

As we all know, easier isn’t necessarily better, but who is going to complain? Who is going to wish for the dark ages when phones had rotary dials, or better yet, when there were no phones at all. We would be foolish to long for a time before science had made our lives so safe, so healthy, and so convenient.

But this isn’t even what I am concerned about. Sure, we will reach a point where we will never get out of bed, our muscles atrophied and our teeth falling out due to our technology’s relentless march to effortless oblivion. (Don’t ask me how advancements in technology are going to result in our teeth falling out, I don’t think you need me to explain that to you.)

But that march is a natural organic one, right? Humans naturally keep inventing, keep creating gadgets to make life “easier.” I am reminded of Kurt Vonnegut’s book Player Piano (for the millionth time). After the human race had completed a war that nearly resulted in their extinction in order to eliminate all the machines that were destroying their lives, someone is sitting amongst all of the technological rubble trying to piece together a little machine that can sputter around the street on its own accord. It is just in us somehow to want to make things that do things—that do all the things humans used to do.

But that still isn’t the issue. The issue is that we are being coerced toward this cliff of ultimate demise by an outside force. It isn’t really our own doing. We have been given the deadly switchblade to play with as a 3-year-old, with the hope that we will soon cut our own throat with it, not knowing how dangerous it is. The “outside force” I speak of is the agenda. We are all slowly being murdered.

Ah, the ol’ frog in the slowly boiling water. Yeah, that’s it. But with a twist (of lemon?) I’m not sure if the goal is to kill the frog, but rather to just cook him down a bit until he can’t do much for himself, but still alive. If any of you have not seen the movie version of Orwell’s 1984, make sure to check it out. It is interesting to me to see how far Orwell’s society has disintegrated and how complacent, and unresponsive, the people in it seem to be. No one really knows what is going on. They even run into each other in the crowded metro and barely give the person they’ve knocked to the ground a second look. But they aren’t dead. Winston’s encounter with a zombie-esque, lethargic and toothless prostitute elicits the response, “But I did it anyway.” Many of us will survive once they have culled us down to a manageable number.

The folks roaming the streets and attending “hate rallies” in Orwell’s dystopian tome are not really aware of the losses they have suffered. They may feel deep inside, as Winston (the protagonist in the story) does, that something just ain’t right. But they can’t really put their finger on it. How many of us are aware that we are most likely already consuming ground up crickets, that we spend way too much unhealthy time staring at TikTok, or that we continue to eat GMO-altered giant strawberries and blueberries, marvelling at how perfect fruit seems to have become over the past decade or so—in size, weight, and color (but not in flavour for some reason).

Are we really aware? We don’t seem to be so much now with most things that have diminished our way of life (and yes, giant, perfect, fruit is diminishing our way of life), having been tricked into thinking that these things have instead made our lives better. How do I know this? It isn’t rocket science. People are just not happy; they aren’t even content. Depression and anxiety are on the rise and suicide is at an all-time high. People in general find life purposeless and meaningless. If you don’t believe me, just ask someone, ask a lot of people. It isn’t pretty.

And don’t think for a minute I don’t include myself in this “we” I am constantly writing about. I am like the giant fat man who keeps stuffing cookies into his mouth while babbling about how bad sugar and being overweight are for the body. I know what’s happening, but I simply don’t have the discipline to stop myself from being taken by it (just so you know, I may be overweight, but I am not yet a “giant fat man” . . . )

I think most of us alive today, and who are adults, probably are doomed to one day be fiddling with a chopstick in an effort to retrieve our rotten teeth from the drain. Some of us will get through it ok, but I am afraid that most of us will not. It is all basically water under the bridge, and if we were thrown into a lion’s den, we might be able to weasel ourselves out of ultimate death with our cleverness and resourcefulness. However, considering how slowly the heat of the pot increases, by the time we realize the lion’s jaws are around us, it will be too late. Blam.

Have you ever tried to learn an instrument after adolescence? What we will be facing, and our ability to successfully deal with it, is somewhat like that. It is indeed difficult to teach an old dog new tricks. When things finally get so bad that we know we have to move or die, it will be upon us in a way that will be rigid and unrelenting. And it will hit us right between the eyes.

A ray of hope? Well, maybe not that sweet, but at this very moment we have not had any limbs torn off, spent any time in the gulag, or even lost any teeth. We are like someone in the early stages of terminal cancer before any dysfunction or pain sets in. We may have every reason to believe that we won’t survive much longer, but we also can go about our lives, kiss our children, take a vacation to the South of France, or bask in the sunny climes of the Caribbean. And we can always believe a miracle could happen, and that Jesus will appear and offer his hand for our salvation. Isn’t he already here?