Comments by "TJ Marx" (@tjmarx) on "Ryan Chapman" channel.

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  2.  @averyavenue  I fear popular fiction has not aptly manifested the true scale of the nightmare we reside in. It is far too diabolical a thing for an author in the past to imagine for his future kin. Yet it remains far too complex; and at any rate we suffer under its spell to such an extent that it's true nature remains a mystery even as we live through it. In fiction there is but a single big bad entity that caused the problem and which must be overcome to save the day. For Orwell that was government. For Wall-E that was consumerism. These are but the very tip of the iceberg that is sinking our civilisation. Importantly unlike in fiction where the causal force is conscious of and intending the outcomes created, in our reality there is not only many varied sources of this dystopia all at play on one another, but they remain under each other's spell. At once we are all victims and perpetrators of our own demise. We, at war with ourselves; are our own big brother. There is no single, nor duo of fiction to point to that describes our reality. It is the fears of all that weigh upon us. In truth even if we could glimpse it's true nature, it would remain too complicated a discussion to visualise in a 90 minute film or an 800 page novel. That is what makes this dystopia so sinister, it's nature remains so elusive and it's workings appear too convoluted to communicate. Consider, in terminator the AI sent nukes to rule us. In our reality the AI only needs to send a constant stream of pretty pictures and videos, whilst elevating some above others ensuring a constant supply of content on this dopamine train. Of course there a several such platforms with the same workings and outcome to give the illusion of choice for those whom prove more difficult to acquire. Consider the film Idiocracy and how much of it is apt to the world around you. We live in a world where individuals can appear as anonymous armies, and bend others to their will through blackmail or harassment with impunity. Where doublespeak is part of daily discourse and no one blinks an eye. Where identity and immutable traits have been weaponised into ideological distraction. A world were mental illness, genetic deformity and both grotesque extremes of body dysmorphia run at epidemic proportions. Where we are ever denying our own nature, and the tactile reality that comes with it such as to fall into fanciful, escapist, sensory overloads. We have become a civilisation of half-witted, self-righteous and socially awkward addicts with poor impulse control and no memory. Fiction could never have dreamt this horror for us. For if it were possible for the imaginations of men to conceive of such a thing in advance I have great doubt we would have arrived here.
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