After I retired at age 45 from the office work environment, I spent years deprogramming myself although I was and still am exposed to the same adverts and other social stimuli to which I had grown accustomed after years of youth-focused training/education/programming.
Even now, I sit with a clamshell design notebook computer on my lap, my fingers able to tap out legible patterns without my looking at the keyboard in the dim light of a single bulb in the sunroom and a flickering candle.
Using office technology.
Referencing the self.
Dragged willingly back into the Western tradition of individualism, commercialism and technocratic thinking.
[I wasn’t dragged. I jumped at the chance to put money in my pocket for instant gratification.]
Meanwhile, watching the tempest of subcultures clashing and hoping for major social changes in a historical instant.
How many of us return to the status quo after a storm passes or haven’t left the status quo at all, remaining calm, cool and collected in the middle of chaos?
What defines a sustainable modern human being?
Actions speak louder than words.
I pause to reflect upon the major and minor social movements of our species (assuming other social animals have less effect upon me and vice versa) before releasing my newest inventions of technological and social engineering marvels upon our local part of the vast universe.
All in the quest to write a living science fiction novel as if I’m observing this on Mars 400 Earth years from now, making sure there’s more than one way to find out if I am.
Such is the way of the writer who became bored with merely creating a parallel alternate universe.
Far, far better to experiment on the living than on imaginary characters.
Much, much more fun.
Most of us are predictable but for the few who aren’t, the experimental results are exhilarating!
Time to clear my thoughts and not meditate, nothingness being all and meaningless.