2020-2021, Istanbul, Turkey, Earth
I wake up from a deep nap, refreshed and renewed. Immediately check the time. It is almost 6 o’clock. At 8, the second lock-down will begin. I have two hours sharp. So sharp that it cut my feelings into pieces. What should I do? Go out? Have beers and chat with my friends? My friends are around, waiting for my call if I want to join them.
I do, I do want to join them, but I have so little time. What is happening? Why am I feeling like this, this time? I have the energy, oh, that’s sure. The only thing I don’t have is time. The actual reason is that we won’t have space.
I get up quickly, stand dizzily. Feel the anger and some bits of misery. Yes, there is a pandemic. Yes, I care about it. It’s a public health issue, right. Don’t want to put me in danger, don’t want to pose a threat to others. Yet I find myself in anger. Why don’t we have time, indeed, space?
I am dressing up. The same clothes I wore yesterday and the day before. When I started to lose time and space. When the news reached. There will be a second lock-down until the end of the year. All the cafes, bars, pubs, restaurants, tea houses, coffee houses will be closed down. Except shopping malls, except takeaways, except the fundamentals, except emergencies. What an odd classification. The chances are odd I will have enough time-space.
I am walking on the streets, heading to my favorite bar. I will wait for my friends, drink my first beer. It tastes so good. And the music… so good. I’m sitting at the back of the place, in the garden area. It’s dim as usual. And the music… so good. Only three or four tables are full. Full of fewer people. Fewer people full of less time. We share less space.
I’m drinking quite fast but not hastily. The walls with the writings get my eyes. The traces from various dates and people. The memories. I’ve loved this place for ten years. Now I have ten times six minutes. The atmosphere is odd too. It’s as if we have all the time in the world now. It’s almost becoming slow-motion. In fact, it is time-lapse so slow-motion makes it normal-paced. Makes it abnormal spaced.
My friends arrive. It is 19:15. We are dazed, we don’t know what to do in forty-five minutes. We start to celebrate the new year because we feel like that. Today is November 23rd, but it’s December 31st for us. How about the others? My friend offers to leave our names on the wall. The principle of synchronicity, here it comes. She feels the same. The notion of affect, here it transmits. Every song is great, every minute is lost, every bit of space just flows.
Apparently, other people got the same feeling. Synchronicity and affect. I tell you. At 19:59 they started a countdown. We are joining. 10… 9… Out of nowhere, we are entering 2021. 8… 7… The song is great; it’s a pity that we won’t make it to the second chorus. 6… 5… Should we leave now? 4… 3… What is space, anyway? No time to think this deep. 2… 1… Welcome_space_2021_dot.
“Come, let’s go outside,” somebody says. The only side is inside now, the outside is the only side. From our side, it’s sheerly absurd. We have lost the space, but we have regained the time. There are no more countdowns. Only that of the planet. Will we move to space?
-Dear virus, how have you been? Sadly, we cannot see you; we cannot shake hands. You roam, we lost the space, we are left with some rooms. You roam, we room. Are you to shatter the animate-inanimate binary? What about the time-space relation? Now, you are the major actor, you shake the structure. Have you heard about poststructuralists? They took the center out, they shook the structure before it was cool, what about it? Oh, you don’t know. I see. (Not you.) You’re asking me what they found. They found space. Strange, huh?
-Dear body, I wasn’t sure about how to address you, but since I’m dealing with bodies, I thought this would be appropriate. Can you confirm first?
-Yes, that’s okay. We have some sayings like “everybody”, “nobody”, “somebody”. We refer to our bodies when talking about uncertain human subjects. But we also talk about our bodies as certain objects when we want to deliver some problems about them. So, I’m familiar with it but it’s quite new that you don’t use my name. You’re weird, you know?
-Me?
I happened to call out to the Virus, and it answered me back. How? I must be in my head. Am I? Are you?
We are wandering, accompanying stray dogs. Dogs accompany stray people too. A sort of friendship. A non-instrumental one, perhaps. Anyway, we choose any way that seems desolate, because we want to drink the beer in our bag. Yet we need an empty street because the lockdown has begun. Again, we need space, but space is emptiness now.
How to fill this emptiness? Chitchat, laughter, cough (oh, that’s bad, frowned upon), just our bodies? Bodies, mmm, sounds familiar, when did I think of such a thing? Emptiness cannot be filled; it is to remain empty until it evolves into a spiral void to give rebirth. Who says that? I cannot see you. I’m too big to see. I am sacred. Oh, sorry, scared. Who is speaking?
-Oh, hello! I heard you were sacred. This is an auto call; you are on the line.
-What?
-Line, the line. I’ve opened a position and I am taking applications. I used some technology. Whenever somebody claims they are sacred, they automatically enter the job interview through this online call. You’re online, waiting in line, and on the line between your ordinary life and this job. Ha-ha.
-What job, I’m sorry, who are you?
-God.
-Oh my God!
-Yes? But please let me ask the questions, this is your job interview. Let’s see if you would be my assistant prophet…
-Oh my God, what?
-Don’t call my name this frequently, Jesus!
-Hello, dad!
-This stupid auto-dialing thing… I didn’t call you; I just mentioned your name and you’re connected. I’m sick of technology sometimes. I’m cutting the line, goodbye! Jobseeker, are you there?
-Y-yes, I’m just, I can’t talk… This is very weird, what’s going on? I didn’t apply to this job. Is this a job? How?
-I’m pretty sure you must have been heard of prophets. If not, I did a really bad job, but I don’t think so. You know, some prophets work for me. Now I need an assistant prophet. I’ve shut the Earth Business.
-What do you mean you’ve shut the Earth -Earth Business? I don’t want to be disrespectful or anything, but this sounds a little meaningless to me. What do you mean by business and shutting down?
-No, that’s okay, it’s not disrespectful at all since I’ve shut down the Earth Business. I mean what I mean. It kept me busy, it was business. And now, it’s closed down. The end. Haven’t you heard of the apocalypse?
-Noo!?
-Damn, I knew an explosion or some jazzy effects would have been better. Anyway, the apocalypse has come. I’m moving to another planet, to another dimension, I’m launching a brand-new business.
-How come? What happened?
-You’ve fired me. Now I’m hiring some of you for the new business. It’s the old trick that we gods use. We take some of you with us while leaving. Even if you’ve fired me, some of you still fall for promotion. Those with lower consciousness levels become the new high-consciousness leaders or whatever. They dig fanciness. Kind of a restart. It’s a cycle.
-Oh my God, every god does that?
-Oh, you still utter my name. That’s sweet. Not all gods but the ones with books, you know. The auteur kind of gods. Some of you announced me dead before since then I’ve prepared. It doesn’t count for a proper firing. You needed to bring the apocalypse on yourselves on your own. And you did. If you excuse me, I have to go. I’m quite busy. I should fix this auto-call thing, though. Thank you for your participation.
-What about all the after-world stuff?
-Oh, that’s none of my business. It kept you busy. Bye-bye!
I was confused. I am. Some voices have spoken to me through the air, then the god got connected. Their tone was different, so they must be different voices and the voices must belong to different entities. Who are they? Another voice reaches my ears, it is my friend speaking. He is telling something about his script for the short movie he must shoot for graduation. I ask him whether he likes God’s script. He said he could not understand. He is standing and shivering. The weather is cold, we are still outside. The air must be in its thinnest state, it carried all those voices to me. I must solve them on my own, find my own way, I just need some space and some time alone.
I take leave of my friends and walk away. Should I tell people that the apocalypse has already happened? Does anybody know?
-We also use the expression “anybody”, it’s slightly different than “nobody”.
-You, again. The body talking about bodies. Are you a taleteller? Is it what you do?
-No, I just made some connections when you addressed me like that. You somehow make me chatty. I’m not supposed to chat with you, by the way. It would be a betrayal to humankind.
-What kind of betrayal? The humankind? You can talk to me. You should, indeed. Let’s give it a try.
“Nobody” did that. I’m everywhere but “everybody” immediately tried to find somewhere to hide. All I wanted was to converse a while, but then you started to run to the laboratories, build hospitals, send people to certain places. You called me in the first place, now you don’t say a thing. Ok then, keep your secrets, as if I don’t know them. I know every bit of you, all your cells and tissues. All your prison cells, phone cells, and issues.
-You must know that you’re the enemy, then?
-Yes, yes, I know. You’re funny. You always pick a certain enemy. This time you are more laughable. I’m glad you decided to use some darkish humor.
-I see the joke. If we want to get rid of you, we have to get rid of ourselves. I kind of find it funny too but I was embarrassed to laugh in public.
-You and your huge, glamorous public! You can laugh now. In fact, you should. “Nobody” did that. “Somebody” laughs from within. If it is kept within, it means “everybody” does that. We can say “anybody” laughs.
-You get the idea, hm?
-No, I get the body.
I want to stop talking. I don’t know if I was talking or not. I mean if my lips moved and let go of sounds. There is no one on the street to check that. Normally, if you talk to someone, people on the street throw a glance at you and if you talk to yourself, they stare at you. But this is not normal, talking to a virus, neither these are normal times. What time is it? It is just now, but in terms of space, it is late. Again! That voice! The unresolved one. Who are you and why can’t I see you? I’m too big to see, I guess. Since you could not see me coming. I’m the Dinosaur.
I swiftly turn my head above, to the sky, the roofs of surrounding buildings, take a quick twirl checking sides, and then up the sky again. I am not used to hearing things, but I automatically imitated what I saw in the movies, probably. Or people do so when they hear things so that the movies show so. Yet I begin to wonder if people ever heard things. Anything? Right. I won’t fool around. I shouldn’t fool around. This is not normal and not safe too. First the Virus, now the Dinosaur? What on Earth do I happen to hear these voices if they are voices at all? What on Earth…
-Not on, underneath.
-What?
-Not on Earth. Underneath the Earth. It’s me, the Dinosaur. I’m from the underground. I’m underground. But first, would you be kind enough to say, ‘nice to meet you’?
-It’s a pleasure to meet you, Dinosaur the underground. I’m not sure about how I may speak to you, but you introduced yourself that way. So…
-Yes, that is okay. The pleasure is mine. Speaking of mines…
-Wait, wait. Please, just hold on. I’ve been having queer conversations tonight. If they are conversations at all, of course. Please, give me time to adjust. I’m surprised that I don’t experience much shock, though.
-The easiest thing for me. To give time. I have quite a huge bag of time. Bag of ages. Baggage. And, if you allow me, I would like to give my reflections on why and how you don’t experience much shock.
-Go on, please.
-Well, I’ve been here around you all the time. There are reasons why you can’t see me, I’ll mention them if you like. But it is not the opposite of natural that you get into contact with me. And I, with you, through you. And the Virus, of course. You had dialogues with it too, right?
-Yes but how do you know?
-Me and the Virus, we are sort of twins. Or a couple, let’s say. We are a theme. As for our not-very-unexpected contact, I’ve been here all the time.
-Here, where?
-Here. All around you, just very within your daily life. Not you personally but the bigger you socially. Your fuel, plastic bags, your techno-myths, your oldest epics.
-Didn’t you go extinct?
-As a species, yes. Metaphorically, no. You never let that happen. I am the symbolic forced survivor of your history. I was originally the dragon. I was settled upon the misty mountains, right in the depths of dark caves, down under the ground in flames. This was how you narrated me, guarding treasures. At some point, you forgot about the treasures and attacked me. Narrated me as the unjust guardian, narrated yourselves as the courageous fighter. No, I was the warrior, you were merely the soldier. And now, look what you made me. Look how you have spoiled not only my body but my metaphor. I’ve become the plastic boxes, guarding your rotten food.
-How do you mean you were the dragon, the real dinosaur as species, and now you became a spoiled metaphor?
-Haven’t you read Svetlana Boym? I suggest you read her.
-The Dinosaur, giving me footnotes… What an adjustment!
-If you print them, they will be footprints. Ha-ha! I’dlike to leave some.
-Joking? Really?
-Don’t take it badly, I have no trouble with you. Nothing personal.
I snap out of the moment of contact. I am slowly figuring out that the dialogues, the contacts last as long as I am in the moment. Although I don’t know how I get into or get out of them. After all, the moment is gone. I wish the Dinosaur could understand the whole moment was personal. What I undergo is nothing but personal. Because there are almost no possible ways for me to share those moments, contacts. Not those with the Virus, not those with the Dinosaur.
I’m headed towards home. I must go home. I wonder how much time has passed; I wander how much space? I check my watch, it’s only 8:30. So lesser than I thought. Is this the apocalypse? Is this in my head? I must go home. Will I find it?
- The Virus and the Dinosaur - August 23, 2022