Android Warehouse

I don’t do fandom properly. Although I’m keen on Steely Dan, and have to a limited extent been for a long time, having liked their singles since the mid-1970s CE, I didn’t really get into them until I was with Sarada, who has a couple of their albums. I was puzzled by Fagen’s ‘I.G.Y.’ and irritated by its apparent optimism, because it seemed so inappropriate for 1982. However, this post is not specifically about the band, although it partly is. It’s also about William Gibson, the Metaverse and NFTs, and ultimately about what could be a coming dystopia, or it might be nothing, I don’t know

So let’s start with:

Steely Dan

Steely Dan are effectively a duo with a load of session musicians, now defunct due to Walter Becker’s death, the other member being Donald Fagen. My brother holds them in complete contempt, possibly because he has better taste than I. There’s a lot to be said about “The Dan”, most of which I won’t be going into here. I’d say they were characterised by cynicism, obsessively high-quality production, a theme of sleaze focussing particularly on incest and child abuse, but also on the criminal underworld and science fiction. They also have this odd habit of name-dropping, as if they’re on the inside and the listener is looking in from some kind of outer darkness which I suspect is illusory, but I can’t be sure. They’re also quite pretentious. But today I want to focus on their early stuff, which tended to sound like Crosby, Stills and Nash, in particular two tracks: ‘Android Warehouse’ and ‘The Caves Of Altamira’.

I’ll start with the second.

I recall when I was small
How I spent my days alone
The busy world was not for me
So I went and found my own
I would climb the garden wall
With a candle in my hand
I’d hide inside a hall of rock and sand
On the stone an ancient hand
In a faded yellow-green
Made alive a worldly wonder
Often told but never seen
Now and ever bound to labor
On the sea and in the sky
Every man and beast appeared
A friend as real as I

[Chorus]
Before the fall when they wrote it on the wall
When there wasn’t even any Hollywood
They heard the call
And they wrote it on the wall
For you and me we understood

Can it be this sad design
Could be the very same
A wooly man without a face
And a beast without a name
Nothin’ here but history
Can you see what has been done
Memory rush over me
Now I step into the sun

[Chorus]

Many years had come and gone and many miles between,

Through it all I found my way by the light of what I’d seen,

On the road as I returned was a green and yellow sign saying ‘see the way it used to be. . .”

And I took my place in line,

Could I believe the sad design could be the very same?

A wooly man without a name and a beast without a name . . .

(The block editor has screwed me here).

The actual caves of Altamira are an archæological site in modern-day Spain into which a girl once crept and rediscovered cave paintings of bulls. The last verse, with the messed-up layout, is omitted in most versions but casts a different light on the same experience. Steely Dan have said that the song itself is about the loss of innocence, presumably of both Palæolithic humanity and the girl in question.

The odd thing about the last verse is that it can also be sung using the tune for ‘Android Warehouse’, which is particularly interesting because for some reason ‘The Caves Of Altamira’ is often used as a title for the other song. There’s clearly a tale to be told here but I don’t know what it is.

The really enigmatic song, though, is ‘Android Warehouse’ itself, whose lyrics go as follows:

Daytime you’re to proud to brag

About the badge you wore

Nighttime you’re to tired to drive

Your change across the floor

All your guns are gone I’m told

Or in the Aerodrome

Did you die the day they sold

The ones you left at home

Hold my hand in the Android Warehouse

Who’s to know if you take a dive

Ain’t life grand in the Android Warehouse

What a burner when you take off your goggles and find?

That you’re alive

That you’re alive

Did you really gobble up

The things they claimed you ate

Were you fit to swallow it

Or scared to clean your plate

Have you tried to calculate

The hours they’d applaud

I would guess it’s somewhat less

For just another fraud

Hold my hand in the Android Warehouse

Who’s to know if you take a dive

Ain’t life grand in the Android Warehouse

What a burner when you take off your goggles and find…

That you’re alive

That you’re alive

That you’re alive…

This was written some time between 1968 and 1971. I should point out that I have a very strong tendency to read meanings into lyrics and texts generally which are unique to myself. As Al Stewart once said:

And some of you are harmonies to all the notes I play
Although we may not meet still you know me well
While others talk in secret keys and transpose all I say
And nothing I do or try can get through the spell.

Steely Dan lend themselves much more to this than many other bands though. Even so, I find ‘Android Warehouse’ to be particularly startling. It’s said that the band itself were actually going to be named Android Warehouse at one point, so it seems to be more than just another song. The crucial lines for me are:

Ain’t life grand in the Android Warehouse
What a burner when you take off your goggles and find?
That you’re alive
So then: imagine an android warehouse. A place where physically inactive humanoid mechanical bodies are stacked up. And they’re all wearing goggles. Are they seeing anything through those goggles? If they take them off, they discover they aren’t androids after all, but are alive, and this shock burns them.

Does this remind you of anything?

Now the idea of the Matrix does seriously pre-date both Keanu Reeves and Steely Dan. It dates back to Indian ideas of Maya and the Western Gnostic tradition. But the idea that it was controlled by a giant machine or collection of machines is somewhat newer. It connects to Cyberspace. Note the capital.

I think ‘Android Warehouse’ is about the dehumanising effect of living in virtual reality as a metaphor for modern life in the industrialised world, and that the metaphor is quite vividly developed. In 1971 at the latest. This might be thought of as mere coincidence and reading meaning into things which aren’t there. The only thing is, Steely Dan were fans of a certain author.

William Gibson

Gibson invented cyberpunk, and I was there at the birth. As I mentioned in 1982, that year was the only one I read the magazine OMNI in, and the July edition saw the first publication of his short story ‘Burning Chrome’, which contains the first occurrence of the word “cyberspace”. Google ngrams shows the following:

“Cyberspace” is a heck of a lot more popular than “cyberpunk”. Cyberspace was originally a hacked computer called the Cyberspace 7, used to access a VR-represented version of the internet. It’s also known, to Gibson himself, as the “matrix”, described as a consensual hallucination. Its foundations look like the classic wireframe plane of squares as seen in countless CGI renderings from the 1970s, and it subjectively develops out of the phosphenes a sighted person experiences when she closes her eyes in darkness. Megacorp and military sites look like the coloured polyhedra familiar from high-end raster scan graphics of the time. There’s also ICE, Intrusion Countermeasures Electronics, which are arranged as “ICE walls” to protect data in the same way as fire walls now are in what might be called the real world. This includes “Black ICE”, which causes fatal seizures. Black ICE is a precursor of the later concept of David Langford’s Basilisk, an image which crashes the human mind fatally, but that wasn’t arrived at until his story ‘Blit’ in 1988.

The Sprawl universe defines cyberpunk, and was in its turn influenced by ‘Blade Runner’, which came out the same year as ‘Burning Chrome’. The basic features of the sub-genre consist of a dystopian computerised world which many people choose to escape by living in virtual reality. The central characters are usually marginalised poor people forced to live on the edge of society. There is a strong Japanese influence on the culture and the US has collapsed but the Soviet Union hasn’t. The Sprawl itself is a thousand-mile long conurbation stretching all the way from Boston to Atlanta. ‘Blade Runner’ seems to posit a second megacity on the west coast of the former US, and I use the word “Megacity” advisèdly as Judge Dredd’s Megacity One is quite similar and seems to be one inspiration for it. The film version of ‘Minority Report’ is set in the Sprawl too. It’s very common. The use of the word “punk” is clearly inherited from the then very recent punk movements of Europe and America.

The Sprawl trilogy contains numerous references to Steely Dan. For instance, there are bars called ‘The Gentleman Loser’ (from Midnite Cruiser) and ‘Here At The Western World’, a love interest called Rikki (Rikki Don’t Lose That Number) and Razor Girls (as in ‘Razor Boy’). Steely Dan is pervasive in the Sprawl, and Gibson has himself written about them. There are characters called Klaus and the Rooster (Here At The Western World). The general atmosphere of their music and Gibson’s fiction is the same. Incidentally, I fully acknowledge the influence of William Burroughs on both, but I’m not as familiar with him as the other two.

But here’s the thing. It doesn’t stretch my credulity at all to see the song ‘Android Warehouse’ as the inspiration for cyberspace. If that’s true, Steely Dan’s impact on the world is largely obscure but absolutely enormous.

The Metaverse

“Metaverse” is a word with a history. It wasn’t coined by Facebook or Mark Zuckerberg, but by Neal Stephenson in his book ‘Snow Crash’, which I haven’t read. I could at this point post a spoiler warning for ‘Snow Crash’ even though I haven’t read it, but the problem with that is that unfortunately the real world of the 2020s is a spoiler for the novel. I do not know what possessed the people who name Facebook stuff to use the word for this, because its connotations are absolutely appalling read in context. It looks like a sick in-joke.

‘Snow Crash’ is a cyberpunk novel published in 1992. Snow Crash itself is a basilisk in Langford’s sense. It’s a computer virus which can infect and destroy hackers’ minds. Although this might not sound very original given Gibson and Langford, the novel scores on being remarkably prescient. It popularised the term “avatar” in the online sense. Second Life has an annual reënactment of the novel because its existence was inspired by one of the main ideas and settings of the story: the Metaverse. This takes the form of a virtual world comprising a featureless black planet bisected by a road 65 536 kilometres long accessible via VR goggles or cheaper black and white terminals. It’s an urban environment a hundred metres wide. Countries have collapsed and been replaced by corporations. The entire book is supposed to be a parody of the cyberpunk genre, which is probably why the central character is called Hiro Protagonist. There’s a lot of other stuff, such as the Sumerian language being the machine code of the human brain, but for now I want to concentrate on the Metaverse. It is not a good thing. It’s controlled by amoral corporations and seems to be essential to living a bearable life. The entire setting is dystopian. I’m afraid I’m letting myself down here through not having read it, but the Metaverse is clearly not a good thing.

Then we get Facebook and Zuckerberg angling to incorporate his soul-sucking demon of a social networking site, to which I and many others are of course addicted, into his virtual environment and actually calling it the Metaverse without a trace of irony! Facebook aims to build an all-encompassing VR environment over which it has total control. Past experience has shown that FB is harmful and that they know themselves to be harmful, to the mental well-being of its users, and the likes of storming the Capitol shows very clearly that it has a malevolent influence on the human race and the planet. It has itself researched the harm it does. Their position is now analogous to the likes of tobacco companies and the fossil fuel industry lobbying and paying off people in “power” (I should explain those quotes at some point) in order to defer or completely erase their bad reputation.

What this amounts to, despite Zuckerberg’s claim that he will only provide the infrastructure which other corporations will use, is an attempt to privatise reality. There is arguably no problem with a virtual space of this nature provided there is public control over it, or perhaps individual control. There most definitely is a problem with this space being owned by a multinational, because to quote Revelation 13:17 –
καὶ ἵνα μή τις δύνηται ἀγοράσαι ἢ πωλῆσαι εἰ μὴ ὁ ἔχων τὸ χάραγμα, τὸ ὄνομα τοῦ θηρίου ἢ τὸν ἀριθμὸν τοῦ ὀνόματος αὐτοῦ. 

And that no man might buy or sell, save he that had the mark, or the name of the beast, or the number of his name.

I am in no wise claiming that this is prophecy of this specific occurrence. I tend towards an idealist interpretation of the book of Revelation and believe that its contents can be applied to all places and times. Nonetheless I find it sinister that this seems to be a situation where you have to sell out in order to have a livable life in mainstream society. You have no choice but to be on Facebook having your intimate personal data mined and sold to megacorps. There is a reason why this Bible verse has such resonance and applicability.

In order to make the next point, it’s helpful to digress into a different high tech area. The replicator seems at first to be some kind of magical genie lamp which you can rub to wish away scarcity. It isn’t, because technological change can always be recuperated by capitalism. There is nothing special about the replicator or its real predecessor the 3-D printer which solves a political problem which wouldn’t’ve been solved by the industrial revolution or the plough in the right social climate. We have a device which can manufacture anything we want in whatever quantities we want. This is a potential hazard to the survival of capitalism, so there are two possible approaches to address this. One is just to make the raw material prohibitively expensive and out of reach of the average consumer so that only the super-rich or their money vampire machines called multinational companies can afford it. The other, and I’m not saying they wouldn’t do both, is to slap a patent, copyright or some other kind of intellectual property thing on the design of the product, then cripple the machine so that it will only produce it if you’ve got some kind of authorisation or payment for it. That way, order is restored and we can all rest safely in our beds knowing the world will continue to be completely crap forever or at least until the oil runs out.

The thing about the Metaverse is that there can be such things as virtual outfits, cars, furniture, apartments and so forth in it, all of which will have to be paid for, or if not, the free stuff will be given low status by people who are rich enough to afford the “nice” stuff. Don’t believe me? Just think about NFTs.

NFTs

Right, now we’re back in the Metaverse, where we want to buy and sell things, or rather Meta wants us to buy things from the various faceless sociopathic organisations that rule the world and damage by stealing our labour and money, also known as the ordinary world. However, any large organisation which does stuff is more likely to do bad stuff because it’s big and some of it is bound to be bad by the law of averages, so maybe it’s more an emergent property of large scale organisations. Whatever the cause, in an economy which runs on scarcity such as our own, the potential abundance afforded by the internet and ICT needs to be reined in for economic and political purposes. Bill Gates was one of the first people to realise how easy it was to copy software when he wrote his “Open Letter To Hobbyists” in 1976 regarding the piracy of Altair BASIC. His claim, from which almost everything he’s done since in the business world stems, was that piracy discouraged people writing software from putting in the work to develop it and therefore stifled information and in fact the whole burgeoning software industry. Against this lies the more abundance-based attitude of GNU, the Free Software Foundation, the original IMDb, Wikipedia and Project Gutenberg, among many others, which has enabled the internet to flourish and provided us with the likes of Android (there’s that word again).

The fact is that it’s very easy to reproduce software which has not been protected in some way, either legally or by a more technology-based method, and as technology advances also to reproduce text, music, video and other media. However, our economy can’t allow that to happen, so various methods are used to restrict that. There are videos on YouTube of “rare” or “lost” episodes or pieces of music, such as Android Warehouse itself, but once they’re on YT, unless someone comes along and has a copyright strike issued, they cease to be rare in most meaningful senses once they’ve been uploaded. Anyone who wants to can listen to Android Warehouse:

If the economy was catholic, i.e. maximised the number of sole traders, there would be a strong moral case for protecting individual artists’ works in some way. Even as it stands there’s a case for it.

In the non-virtual world, rarity doesn’t have to be invented. Stamps can be misprinted, coins can be issued for a short-reigned monarch such as Edward VIII and there are unique artworks by the likes of Picasso and Dalí. The latter in particular exploited this in an interesting way. Instead of paying for his meals in restaurants, he used to draw sketches on pieces of paper and hand them over like cheques. In order for the same kind of thing to happen online, methods need to be devised to create scarcity. Although on the one hand this seems morally bankrupt and perhaps even evil, on the other we live in a world where many of us provide free “content” without any prospect of being renumerated for our labour. The word “content” used in this setting makes me think of containers into which art, music and text is poured without regard for the kine “which” secreted it and the adverse effect it has on their bodies and lives.

Photo by Matthias Zomer on Pexels.com

Enter the NFT. This isn’t the only solution. Another might be quantum cryptography, but in any case right now the NFT is a very hyped option. NFT stands for “Non-Fungible Token”, and once again I find myself in a quandary because I have no idea whether they’re well-known or not. Fungibility is more or less another word for replaceability, and NFTs are an attempt to create non-replaceable resources online. They’re based on cryptocurrency and the blockchain, specifically on the Ethereum one, the second most popular cryptocurrency after Bitcoin.

Both cryptocurrency and NFTs are subject to being hard to understand, in such a way that they remind me a little of confusopolies. This is Scott Adams’s word for the situation which used to exist around mobile ‘phone contracts and others (e.g. utility services) where there were so many different options that many people just plump for one at random because they don’t understand the differences between them and consider them trivial. This allows providers to camouflage their deals and compete successfully because it makes it less likely that really good deals can be noticed, and it also puts people off thinking about them too hard. That repellence, and the feeling that life is too short, is a good way of getting away with nefarious activities. With cryptocurrency and NFTs an additional layer of complexity is introduced by the fact that both are currently subject to bubbles. Most people seem to be into cryptocurrencies as a means of making money rather than as a means of exchange, leading to the artificial inflation of their value, but at the same time it would be understandable if the risk to the authority of the likes of banks were to be countered by causing Fear, Uncertainty and Doubt (FUD) in the minds of the public. For people of my generation there could be a further layer of complication due to the feeling that anything which has been invented recently is suspect. There also appears to be a vast environmental issue with both.

Leaving all that aside, how does an NFT work?

An NFT is a single token stored in a blockchain indicating exclusive rights over an item, usually a digital asset of some kind. If you buy an NFT, you get to “own” something like an image, a URL, a film, a piece of music or perhaps an asset in a game such as a weapon, a skin or an area of land in a virtual world. These last few are what links NFTs to the Metaverse, since that’s a virtual world like Second Life or World Of Warcraft. However, they become more significant to the rest of us if Zuckerberg succeeds in his leverage.

A blockchain is a ledger held by participating computers over a wide area. Some might say “all over the world”, but I’m not sure that includes most of it. When a transaction is made, that is, buying and selling, a record of that is made publicly on this ledger which can be read by all participants in the system. This is what guarantees the security of the system and allows it to be independent of banking. This threat to the authority of banks could conceivably lead to negative propaganda and manipulation, but at the same time NFTs and cryptocurrency don’t actually seem to be good things for other reasons and those who want to profit from them benefit from talking them up.

The big problem with cryptocurrency and NFTs, environmentally speaking, is that they’re generated by carbon-hungry “busy work” on computers. The problem centres on “proof of work”. As far as Bitcoin is concerned, it works like this. Every ten minutes, the computers connected to the network do a difficult and complex calculation which proves that electricity has been used. It must not have a useful purpose. The data resulting are evidence that the work has been done. These are then submitted and the winner (it’s like a lottery) then gets to verify all the transactions done in the last ten minutes. The more electricity you use, the more likely you are to win, and this is also how Bitcoins are created. Bitcoin miners therefore congregate in areas where the climate is very cold (to cool their computers doing the work) or where electricity is cheap, which usually means a massive carbon footprint. Something like 0.5% of the carbon footprint of the species is due to Bitcoin mining and the blockchain alone.

Ethereum uses a process known as “proof of stake” instead, where a random process is still used, but is based on the investment an individual participant makes, giving them the chance to validate everything. This still makes it easier for richer people to make money but potentially avoids the concentration of power which occurs with Bitcoin. Approving fraudulent transactions brings penalties. Ethereum is also being upgraded to “Ethereum 2.0”, which aims to reduce the risk of a “majority shareholder” dominating the network, increase the bandwidth of transactions (more per second) without increasing the size of nodes and making it more environmentally sustainable.

It really bothers me that anyone would even consider inventing a new technology which automatically has a large carbon footprint this far into the twenty-first century. Ethereum doesn’t seem to have this, but it has other problems, in the nature of NFTs, which are based on Ethereum.

There are various pieces of data, some of them very large such as feature films, which are linked to NFTs. The cost of an individual NFT is usually very high. In the Metaverse one probably won’t have any choice but to use them, and at this point I am reminded of the ‘Black Mirror’ episode ‘Fifteen Million Merits’, and in particular this crowd at the Hot Shots talent show:

Will be removed on request

Don’t you just know that the skins, faces, hair and clothing of those avatars were bought at a premium rate set by the network? In 2022, and in connection with the Metaverse, all of these things are likely to have NFTs. Moreover, in this screenshot it’s clear that they’re supposed to look artificial, low-quality – somehow “plasticky”, which is what they will be. But the chances are you won’t have a choice to opt out of using crypto or NFTs.

Things may change, but right now NFT-associated property looks similarly vapid, ugly and uninspiring. Here are some examples:

Lazy Lions:

You know what? I have no clue whatsoever how intellectual property works on this or any other NFT-related stuff. You tell me and I’ll act accordingly.

Bored Apes:

Cryptopunks:

Just to choose a few random prices, one Lazy Lion costs £9 816.12 and there’s also one for almost a million quid, a Bored Ape is typically cheaper, maybe about £40, and Cryptopunks are each valued particularly highly, seeming to average well about a quarter of a million pounds sterling apiece. One of them appears to be worth £300 million. All of these appear to be arbitrarily generated by software in a lazy manner, and they all feel seriously soulless. It’s possible that at some point this bubble will burst and there will be more stuff which actually seems to be worthwhile, and this also links to the idea of artworks which are only worth something if they’re in a gallery. If you visit the websites these things are sold on, the focus is solely on investment. Nobody seems to care what they look like.

I find this rather distressing. I find it all the more distressing that I can easily see that this low-effort trash will not only continue but become unavoidable if we’re all forced to participate in the Metaverse.

Conclusion

I’m not really sure where this is going. I believe Steely Dan may well have had an invisible hand in today’s world through their song and it’s widely acknowledged that William Gibson did. Facebook, or rather Meta, may well fail in their attempt and could have overreached themselves in creating the Metaverse, which could in any case be a distraction from their other nefarious influence on society, but that won’t stop someone else from doing it. Zuckerberg seems peeved that he doesn’t have control over hardware and therefore the whole path from his central stuff to the end-user. The Metaverse is also nothing new, and is more like him nicking it from the common ownership it has currently and making it his own. Finally, NFTs may come to nothing, and are a continuation of what’s long happened in other ways, but right now, to this four-and-a-half-dozen-year-old, they look like something which would’ve happened in the last days of Rome before the Goths came swarming in, or in this case pandemics and anthropogenic climate change.

Seriously, I dunno. They changed what “it” was I think.

Living In The Past One Day At A Time

In this blog, I’ve made occasional references to what I call my “Reënactment Project”, which is a long-term ongoing thing I’ve been doing since about 2017. The idea is that every day I make an at least cursory examination of the same day thirty-nine years previously. The reason for choosing thirty-nine years is that for the initial year I planned to do it all the dates were on the same days of the week, meaning that the years concerned were substantially similar. The very basic arithmetic involved is of some interest and I’ll be returning to that later in the post. A side-effect of the thirty-nine year difference is that I am thirty-nine years younger than my father, so he would’ve been the age I am now back then, which focusses me on ageing, life stages and how to stay as young as possible by doing things like addressing my balance through Yoga so it doesn’t deteriorate as fast as it has for him. I can see the end result and know some of the things to avoid, which means that if I do reach his current age I’ll probably have a completely different set of health problems from which my own hopefully not estranged descendants will in turn know what they should avoid. And so on.

My motivation for doing this stems from the disconcerting awareness that we edit our memories, and are also only able to experience things as we are at the time. Also, various media and popular misconceptions lead us to forget and mutate the memories we do believe ourselves to have, and this was particularly important for 1978 as it included the famous Winter Of Discontent, also the Winter Of Discotheque, and I feel we may have been usefully manipulated into seeing this particular season in a particular way to justify everything that came after it. I also want to know how I was as a child and adolescent and pay attention to things which are the seeds of how I am now, and also that which was in me which I didn’t end up expressing. There is of course a bit of a risk here because I’m living in the past and to some extent dwelling upon it, but I do have a life outside this project and find it quite informative and enriching for today’s experiences. However, in general it’s just interesting.

I’ve now reached 1982, and am in the depths of the Falklands War, which was a significant historical event in securing Margaret Thatcher a second parliamentary term. Well, I say “in the depths”. In fact an end to hostilities was announced on 20th June and the Canberra was almost home by 7th July, which is when I’m writing this. I more or less stand by the position I had by the mid-’80s on this subject, which is that Galtieri and Thatcher were both aware that a war would be likely to boost their popularity, although at the time I thought it was an actual conspiracy between them whereas now I just think they were both aware of its expediency. It came as something of a shock to me, a year later, when I realised we didn’t have fixed-term parliaments and therefore the Tories could take advantage of their victory by calling an election whenever they wanted. ‘Shipbuilding’ is redolent of the time:

Although I know Elvis Costello wrote and performed the song, the Robert Wyatt version is the one I associate most closely with the incident. Robert Wyatt was part of the Canterbury Scene and an early member of Soft Machine, so I’m obviously more likely to associate it with him. Just in case you don’t know, Wyatt got drunk and fell out of a window in 1973, paralysing himself from the waist down. Jean Shrimpton, my second cousin once removed, gave him a car and Pink Floyd raised £10 000 for him in a benefit concert. Tommy Vance once described him as “a man who has had more than his share of bad luck in life”.

Another association I make with the Falklands from the time is a play about an Irish barman who was accepted as a member of his community in London until the breakout of the war. He finds himself sandwiched between Irish Republicans and his customers, with racism growing against him which culminates in his murder. This was originally a radio play but later appeared on TV. Although the Troubles were significant and also a spur to creativity, there was a long period during which practically every new play was about them, and it became tedious and annoying. This wasn’t yet the case in ’82 though. There’s also the 1988 BBC TV drama ‘Tumbledown’.

1982 was probably the last year there was really any hope that the previous pattern of alternating Conservative and Labour administrations we were used to would continue into the decade. In fact, this had been a relatively recent development. The first Labour government after the Second World War had been followed by thirteen years of Tory rule, and it was only after that that an alternation of parties in power had begun, lasting only fifteen years. Nonetheless, up until 1982 that’s what most people seemed to expect, and that alternation had held policies and the general timbre of the country in the political centre because the next government could be expected to come along and undo much of what the previous one had done, and so on. This was satirised on the Radio 4 comedy programme ‘Week Ending’ which depicted the future of privatisation and nationalisation as permanently oscillating ad infinitum every five years, which was probably one reason I thought we had fixed terms.

I was communist in ’82, and when I say “communist” I mean Stalinist. I took it seriously enough that I attempted to learn Russian and listened regularly to Radio Moscow, and I was very upset when Leonid Brezhnev died. I was completely convinced that what the Soviet Union was saying about us and themselves was accurate and that the BBC and the like was nothing more than propaganda. I was also very concerned indeed about unemployment, racism and homophobia. I considered being called racist to be the worst insult imaginable, which of course misses the point. I was, however, still a meat eater and was, as you can probably tell, quite naïve. I was also a lovesick teenager in love with the idea of being in love.

However, this isn’t just about 1982 and the events of that year, for me or the world, but also the value of the exercise. It’s often been suggested that I have autistic tendencies and I imagine that this kind of meticulous rerun of the late ’70s and early ’80s is going to come across as confirmatory evidence for that. Clearly people do do things just because they want to and then come up with reasons for doing so to justify themselves to other people. My novel ‘1934’ covers a community where they have chosen to relive the mid-twentieth century over and over again in an endless loop because the leaders think everything has gone to Hell in a handcart ever since, and this would not be a healthy attitude. I made the mistake, a few years ago, of re-reading my diary in a particular way and found myself falling back into the mindset I had at the time in a way which felt distinctly unhealthy. Nonetheless, I consider this activity to be worthwhile because our memories are re-written, and history is written by the winners, in this case the winners of the Falklands War, so our memories are re-written by the winners.

It’s been said that films set in the past usually say more about the time they were made than the period they’re supposed to have happened in. Hence ‘Dazed And Confused’ is really about the 1990s, for example. We generally have a set of preconceptions about a particular period within living memory which turn into a caricature of the time which we find hard to penetrate to reach the reality, and it isn’t the reality in any case because it’s filtered through the preconceptions of the people at the time, even when those people were us. This much is almost too obvious to state. However, there’s also continuity. Time isn’t really neatly parcelled off into years, decades and centuries. People don’t just throw away all their furniture at the end of the decade, or at least they shouldn’t, and buy a whole new lot. We’re all aware of patterns repeating in families down the generations. It isn’t really possible to recapture the past as if it’s preserved in amber. But it is possible to attempt to adopt something like the mindset prevalent at the time, or the Zeitgeist, to think about today, and the older you get the more tempting it is to do so. Since the menopause exists, there must be some value in becoming an elder and sharing the fruits of one’s experience, even when one is in cognitive decline. And of course the clock seems to have been going backwards since 1979, making this year equivalent to 1937. World War II was so 2019.

How, then, does 2021 look from 1982? On a superficial level, it tends to look very slick and well-presented, although airbrushing had a slickness to it too. The graphic at the top of this post is more ’87 than ’82, but it does succeed in capturing the retro-futurism. Progressive politics was losing the fight with conservatism at the time, but the complete rewrite of how we think of ourselves had not yet happened. Nowadays, people are wont to parcel up their identity and activities into marketable units because they have no choice but to do so. The fragmentation there is as significant as the commodification. The kind of unity of experience which existed in terms of the consumption of popular culture back then is gone, although it was gradually disintegrating even then. We were about to get Channel 4 and video recorders were becoming popular among the rich, although they were still insisting that there was no way to get the price below £400 at the time, which is more like £1 400 today. It’s hard to tell, but it certainly feels like the mass media, government and other less definable forces have got better at manipulating public opinion and attitudes. This feels like an “advance” in the technology of rhetoric. However, we may also be slowly emerging from the shadow of the “greed is good” ethic which was descending at the time because we’ve reached the point where most public assets have been sold off and workers’ rights have been eroded that reality tends to intrude a lot more than it used to, and I wonder if people tend to be more aware of the discrepancy between what they’re told and what their experience is. Perhaps the rise in mental health problems is related to this: people are less able to reconcile their reality with the representation of “reality”, and are therefore constantly caught in a double bind.

It isn’t all bad. It’s widely recognised now that homophobia, sexism, racism, ableism and other forms of prejudice are bad for all of us and people seem to be more aware that these are structural problems as well. Veganism is better understood but also very commercialised, taking it away from its meaning. Social ideas which are prevalent among the general public today may have been circulating in academia at the time and their wider influence was yet to be felt. This is probably part of a general trend. There was also a strongly perceived secularisation trend which has in some respects now reversed. The West was in the process of encouraging Afghan fundamentalists and they may also have begun arming Saddam Hussein by this point, although that might’ve come later. CND was in the ascendancy, and the government hadn’t yet got into gear dissing them.

Another distinctive feature of the time was the ascendancy of home microcomputers, although for me this was somewhat in the future. I’ll focus more on my suspicions and distrust here. To me, silicon chips were primarily a way to put people out of work and therefore I didn’t feel able to get wholeheartedly into the IT revolution with a clear conscience. I had, however, learnt BASIC the previous year. I don’t really know what I expected to happen as clearly computers were really getting going and it seemed inevitable. There was also only a rather tenuous connection between a home computer and automation taking place in factories. However, by now the usual cycle of job destruction and creation has indeed ceased to operate, as the work created by automation is nowhere near as much as the work replaced by it, or rather, done by computers or robots in some way. My interest in computers was basically to do with CGI, so the appearance of a ZX81 in my life proved to be rather disappointing.

1982 was also the only year I read OMNI. Although it was interesting, and in fact contained the first publication of ‘Burning Chrome’ that very year, it also came across as very commercialised and quite lightweight to me compared to, for example, ‘New Scientist’. It was also into a fair bit of what would be called “woo” nowadays, and it’s hard to judge but I get the impression that back then psi was more acceptable as a subject of research for science than it is today. This could reflect a number of things, but there are two ways of looking at this trend. One is that a large number of well-designed experiments were conducted which failed to show any significant psi activity. The other is that there is a psychologically-driven tendency towards metaphysical naturalism in the consensus scientific community which has little basis in reason. I would prefer the latter, although the way the subject was presented tended to be anecdotal and far from rigorous. From a neutral perspective, there does seem to be a trend in the West away from belief in the supernatural, and the fact that this was thirty-nine years ago means that trend is discernible on this scale.

Then there’s music, more specifically New Wave. For me, because of my age and generation, New Wave doesn’t even sound like a genre. It’s just “music”. This may not just be me, because it’s so vaguely defined that it seems practically meaningless. It’s certainly easy to point at particular artists and styles as definitely not New Wave though, such as prog rock, ABBA, disco and heavy metal, but I perceive it as having emerged from punk, and in fact American punk just seems to be New Wave to me. It’s also hard for me to distinguish from synth-pop at times. British punk could even be seen as a short-lived offshoot of the genre. By 1982, the apocalyptic atmosphere of pop music around the turn of the decade was practically dead, although I still think there’s a tinge of that in Japan, The Associates and Classix Nouveaux. The New Romantics had been around for a while by then. I disliked them because I perceived them as upper class and vapid. I was of course also into Art Rock, and to some extent world music.

In the visual arts, for me 1982 saw a resurgence in my interest in Dalí, who had interested me from the mid-’70s onward, but this time I was also interested in other surrealists such as Magritte and Ernst, and also to some extent Dada. As with New Romantics, Dalí was a bit of a guilty pleasure as I was aware of his associations with fascism. This was all, of course, nothing to do with what was going on in the art scene of the early ’80s, although I was very interested and felt passionately positively about graffiti. I felt that the destruction of graffiti was tantamount to vandalising a work of art. To be honest, although I’m concerned that people might feel threatened by it and feel a lot of it is rather low-effort and unoriginal, I’m still a fan of it, although I wouldn’t engage in it myself.

1982 was close to the beginning of the cyberpunk æsthetic. I’ve already mentioned William Gibson’s ‘Burning Chrome’, which first appeared in OMNI this month in 1982, and there was also ‘Blade Runner’, which was already being written about, again in OMNI, although it wasn’t released until September. The influence of the genre can be seen in the graphic at the top of this post. To a limited extent even ‘TRON’, from October, was a form of bowdlerised cyberpunk, with the idea of a universe inside a computer. Cyberpunk is dystopian, near-future, can involve body modification, does involve VR and has alienated characters and anarcho-capitalism, with a world dominated by multinationals. ‘Johnny Mnemonic’ had been published, also in OMNI, the year before. The question arises of how much today’s world resembles that imagined by cyberpunk, and to be honest I’d say it does to a considerable extent, and will probably do so increasingly as time goes by.

On a different note, although the days and dates match up between 2021 and 1982, this will only continue until 28th February 2023, after which a leap day for 1984 will throw them out of kilter again. It can almost be guaranteed that years twenty-eight years apart will have the same calendar. One thing which can’t be guaranteed is the date of Good Friday and the other days which are influenced by it. This means that there is almost always a difference between calendars even when the days of the week match up. I also said “almost be guaranteed”. Because the Gregorian calendar skips leap days when they occur in a ’00 year whose century is not divisible by four, we are currently in a lng run of matching twenty-eight year cycles which began in 1900 and will end in 2100. Hence up until 1928 the years of the twentieth century don’t match up on this pattern, and likewise from 2072 onward there will be another disruption of the pattern down into the future. There are also other periods which match between leap days, such as the thirty-nine year one I’m currently exploring, which began last year and includes two complete years as well. This also divides up the years a little oddly, because since I was in full-time school at the time, academic years were also quite important to me, and in fact continued to be so right into the 1990s. This makes a period between 29th February 1980 and the start of September 1980 and will also make a further period between September 1983 and 29th February 1984. Finally, astronomical phenomena don’t line up at all really. Solar and lunar eclipses, and transits of Venus and Mercury, for example, won’t correspond at all.

So anyway, that’s one of the possibly pointless things I do with my time at the moment. It does bring home to me how slowly time does in fact go, because to be honest doing this seems to have slowed the pace of the passage of time back to how it was when I was fourteen or fifteen. What other effects it has on my mind I’m not sure, although I think there must be both positive and negative influences.