Because You Never Asked

     (This essay was written in the late 90's)

     "2001, A Space Odyssey", is something I have already spoken about at length in this work. The book that was the inspiration for the famous movie more people are familiar with, was written by one of the greatest science fiction writers of all time, Arthur C. Clarke. Clarke has recently written a final sequel to the original work called "3001, The Final Odyssey", which I shall discuss later on in this essay.

     For people like myself, who are compelled to put pen to paper, the need to read is an unavoidable corollary to such an addiction. Like athletes who must constantly perfect and practice their skills, a writer must continue to read if he or she is to continue to write. It is a basic part of their training routine.

     My life as a serious reader began when I was about 20 years old. I might not read intense amounts everyday, but there is always a book close by when I need its company. On those rare occasions when I have been careless enough to finish one before having bought another, I experience an edginess that might be akin to what a smoker feels with an empty pack.

     Although I will read anything my quality control antennas mysteriously zero in on, the novel has become my primary predilection because it seems to convey a more subtle, higher form of wisdom. The novel is tasteless data, be it historical, scientific, or simply the whole tangled web of sociology-psychology known as human behavior, set forth in a palatable way that is digested and processed more easily. The novel is the highest form of the written word.

     One of the most clearly delineated genres within the vast realm of the written arts is what we know as "science fiction". Unlike my father, who was a devoted cult member who read nothing but science fiction his whole adult life, I only dabble in it, reading a few titles every year. This more balanced taste does not lessen my respect for my father's obsessive passion. In fact, I can hardly ever remember being disappointed by such a choice.

     For reasons I shall soon explain, I consider today's science fiction writers as the true "prophets" of our day. In the past, such prophets were usually religious shamans of one sort or another, generally trying to fill in the blanks left by a deficient scientific understanding of the world around them. With the advent of the steam engine and the coming of the Industrial Revolution, with its explosion (this was not a gradual process) of scientific-technological knowledge, the world has become unrecognizable for someone of just 100 years ago. In spite of the lip service still being paid to the archaic concepts of pre-technology religions --- which only served to placate the fears of life's uncertainties in a data starved world --- the real "God" in today's world, the one to which everyone listens to and governs their lives by, is technology, henceforth known as the God "Tekno" in these pages.

     This devotion to Tekno, like the science it is premised upon, is quite logical. Unlike the pre-technology gods of old (note the small case "g"), whose existence and "modus operandi" were always subject to doubt, there is no ambiguity with the new God. When a plane flies overhead, when your E-mail instantly arrives from distant places, when crops yield more and hips are replaced, Tekno's miracles can be recognized with all one's senses, thus precluding any metaphysical debate of motive or existence. A new God has been found and it is giving us more answers everyday.

     But the picture is not as rosy as it might seem.

     Although the official dogma of the status quo would never explain it as such, a new "religion" has taken over the western culture that is now dominating (infesting?) the planet. This religion revolves around the ritual of money. Although this money idea originated long before the evolution of "Santa Monica Man", the devotion to the new religion has reached such romantic flights of inspiration, that its worship must now be considered something more formal .

     Behold! . the religion of mo' money, the religion of "Mo".

     "Mo'ism", like Mohammed and his hordes sweeping out of the Arabian Desert, is conquering the Earth. The "Mo'ists" are all "fundamentalists" with a sincere dedication to their newfound God, Tekno. Unfortunately, like all religious fanatics, they have a bad habit of perverting their God's teachings. Tekno's "Holy Word" is being dangerously applied.

     If one can accept what has just been said as a reasonable depiction of contemporary reality, it could also be reasonably stated that today's great science fiction writers are the true "prophets" of the God Tekno. What better vehicle could be used to spread this God's "Word" than the scientific expertise and literary elegance combined in these ingenious writers?

     When reading science fiction it is easy to forget that whoever is doing the writing is a creature of the same present as the rest of us (or even someone that predates us). What sets them apart is their sophisticated understanding of Tekno's "Word". This understanding of the "Word" gives them the ability to not only see the future, but more importantly, to show us what is wrong right now. They are prophets worth listening to.

     Today's science fiction looks back on ourselves from as far away as millions of years hence, to the nearby realm of the foreseeable future. Perhaps the most prevalent strain of thought running through the immense output of this literary genre is a widespread repulsion for the time frame we are now living. As seen through the wisdom of the fictional beings of the future, the 20^th century and its close environs are generally seen as a difficult time fraught with ignorance and error, as a time when the resources of the planet were being terribly misused, as a time when the human race had still not learned the art of harmonious living. In spite of the blossoming quality of their technology, 20^th century man was still living a barbaric existence lacking the true fundaments of "civilization".

     It is an historical period being stalked by disaster.

     The aforementioned book by the prophet Clarke, "3001, The Final Odyssey", is no exception. As the book's title implies, it is set 1000 years in the future and there are numerous references to the stupidity of the era we are now living. There was one particular remark that seemed so cogent it actually inspired this essay.

     Those familiar with the original work, "2001", already know that the space expedition at the core of the plot ended in disaster, with the computer "HAL" sabotaging the mission. As we now find out in "3001", its Commander was accidentally left in a state of suspended animation, hurtling through the solar system in a not dead-not alive, limbo-like existence. Finally, 1000 years later, a patrolling spacecraft stumbles upon the aimlessly wandering body and brings it back to Earth, from whence the story is told.  

     The Commander is brought back to life, and, under the strict supervision of the 4^th millennium's scientific community, is gradually oriented into the amazing new world around him. In so doing, he is assigned a kind of cultural "chaperone" to guide him through the difficult acculturation process. In a brilliant display of practicality, the chaperone chosen is a historian specialized in the Commander's era. In other words, she is a renowned expert in "Santa Monica Man".

     As the orientation period runs its course, this chaperone-historian frequently makes negative remarks about the era from which the Commander comes. Finally, somewhat exasperated, the Commander wants to know why such a horrible period in history so interests her? She replies:

     "Because it marks the transition between barbarism and civilization."

     That one thought is somewhere near the focus of what I've been trying to convey in these essays. The 20^th century's quantum leap in technology has given us the ability to make that transition, but our emotional habits, developed over millions of years of now unnecessary paranoid survival mechanisms, are still dictating our behavior. I won't be so bold to include the Prophets of science fiction as unflinching partisan believers in what I'm about to say, but I timidly suggest that many of them could at least find some grain of truth in the following:

     The transition from "barbarism" to "civilization" cannot be made until we scrap the economic model now being unmercifully pounded up our asses by the Clinton-Thatcher cowboys. This Murdochland interpretation of Tekno's "Word" is leading us astray. It is unnecessarily aggressive, unnecessarily competitive; it has banal, amoral instincts inherited from a more primitive realm. It is time we started providing ourselves with our material well being rather than always selling it to ourselves.

     Relevant Material: According to the brilliant 19^th century Russian philosopher, Mikhail Bakunin, "Whereas theology and metaphysics try to deny human ignorance with their vague postulations, science honestly confesses its limitations."