In this modern world, some things matter
Brian sent me an entertaining account of his visit to Tokyo DisneySea. He was expecting a replica of Edo, the name of Tokyo during the Middle Age, where samurais would roam the muddy roads and look for feudal lords who could hire their services. It turned out that the modern inhabitants of the capital embraced Western culture. If Walt Disney were around, he would beam at the sight of Japanese teenagers garbed in their favorite Disney characters. My cousin was amused at the ubiquitous sight of Minnie Mouse Ears Headband, such that he wanted to join the bandwagon. But he wanted to stand out. He bought a blue headband with a short, round green monster with a single big eyeball and skinny limbs. Mike was his favorite Pixar character.
My cousin could have saved money by visiting the Disney park in Anaheim one more time, but his folks were awed by the mystic East. (Brian's father was once based in Tokyo.) And he seemed to be an observant lad. (I would say too observant for a freshman.) He noticed the mobile phones, the medley of Disney tunes blaring from the distance, and a plane crossing the cloudless sky every few hours or so. He wondered if we were living in an age of unprecedented disruption. I almost laughed out loud, as this was the norm in the Big Apple. Then again, I might be wrong. America had been different in many ways. And then something came to mind.
My housemates were talking about modernity over cans of beer. Dan believed that the jet lag, flight delays, and iPad were his red badges of courage. These would make him modern, he said. I saw concerned faces, wondering if he had drank too much. I thought he was lucky to spend the previous summer on the other side of the Atlantic. I could imagine a gentleman, living in 1916, uttering the same words that Dan did moments ago. Telegraphs, steamships, and railroads would make him a modern man.
What if modernity can be a subjective condition?
I was interested in studying the past, and this put me in a somber mood. Could a gain of knowledge and wealth be a way of losing contact with the past? There were fears from authorities when Copernicus discovered that the sun was the center of the universe. All the values and ideas that were built through the centuries would be dust off by that startling revelation. A new order in place of the old one. Galileo, who championed that theory, was persecuted for it. The world was in a perpetual state of disorientation, and philosophers tried to make sense of it.
The Reformation destroyed the established Church, while the discovery of America destroyed established geography. Everything that educated people believed to be a reality turned out to be an error. They might not take it hard if they would face the computer screen, as new information pops out every minute. Some might get dizzy, but I would be used to it.
What would matter in this modern world? My housemates, who have the ability to rhyme every word in a sentence. (And they aren't students of the English Department.) My iPad, which would enable me to see the world. And my knowledge of the past. (Ignorance won't be an option.) I almost forgot Brian's account of his visit to DisneySea. I might ask my parents if they have plans to spend the winter in Orlando.
