Well goodness, that was not a happy post below, now was it? It does make one wonder what one dreams upon the couch. What program was I watching, what commercial left its mark; or was I merely setting the stage for what I need to write today.
The thoughts have ordered themselves within my brain to come up with that desperately depended upon opening line for my final New Media project, and I’ve written several pages in the hour past. The past itself provides the basis for the future and morose it is compared to that which technology can heal and happify by options, opportunities and manipulation of the time that it has left or goes before it.
Or does it?
One word stands out from all the rest of the new media language, and I’ve formed ideas based upon its varied meanings: Transitioning. The fadeout between movie scenes, the Chapter heading or the little squiggled lines in books. A change of time, a change of scene, something that brings us into place with pace of narrative. We seek out smoothness in its rendering, a gentle impact that is relevant, comprehensible and hides the seconds, sometimes decades of a story without leaving us to wonder where we are.
The final transition though, for us, comes in many ways as well; screeching tires and tinkling glass, or slowly in a breath, a breath, then none. This is where technology can change our lives perhaps, make dying easier, then like a sequel to the movie, move us on to play another part again.
Is that a good thing, or an affront to God and nature; will we embrace it or in horror turn away?
Do games become more real, or will reality, in fact, become a game.
Note to my professors: Just realized I can use the above in my essay, so don’t be surprised if you experience déjavu in assessing it. I shall even cite my own work properly.
The Lost Children: A Charity Anthology