wesley barnes

I awoke suddenly grasping damp sheets. The room was dark yet dimly lit by a brief but continuous passing blue light.  A barrage of sirens echoed in the background.  A bitter dry cotton pad lay in the place where my tongue normally rest. The muted sounds of dogs barking and loud speakers crept steadily into audible range. I slowly rose to my feet and walked to the living room TV. Ignoring the flashing lights and the sound of police helicopters outside, I reached in the dark for the small black rectangular control device. I touched the remote and a surge of light split the darkness as the television came to life. Instantly my pupils dilated as the reflection of chaos spread across the glazed surface of my eyes.

Images of people everywhere running, looting and chanting hit my retina. In the background fires burned out of control. The confusion was loud and the ambient noise was course. For a moment, I paused then I eagerly raced down the remote to every available channel. Each channel reflected the same message.  The people looked familiar. However, something was acutely different and slightly obscure. I couldn’t be certain but it looked like someone was attempting to hijack the signal. The delivery was distorted and choppy. The news coverage featured burning billboards and stacks of televisions on fire. People were boarding up their windows and doors to protect their possessions. It appeared that a mass hysteria had taken hold of the state of our union.

I was consumed immediately. Unable to move, I think I watched the revolution for days. I can’t tell all together how long I had been there in front of the tube before the signal finally became weak.  It’ seemed like days but it could have easily been years. I vaguely remember being a young boy when the revolution began. Now, I’m an adult and I can’t remember exactly when, where, or why it all started. I can no longer really taste, smell or feel my prior life.  It’s all photos and sounds of someone else’s reality. There are moments of illusive clarity stitched together with images of things I think I need; detergent, cutlery, music CDs, low carb beer.

In a momentary daze, the screen suddenly went blank.  A blank white screen appeared in front of me. Startled, I thought of all the stuff I would need to buy if the revolution continued for any length of time. I figured I could wait it out but something deep inside made me think I should move right away. Conflicted, I did nothing. I stared at the screen for hours. I became sad. I became angry.  I became withdrawn. I soon ran out of emotions and sat there numb. I began to think. I became enraged. I closed my eyes and began to sob. Secretly, I began plotting to join the revolution. I sat in the middle of the floor watching the white screen contemplating my revolt. Tears began to stream from the empty corners of my eyes. I still wanted the taste of that bright red soda pitched to me by the multi-colored cheerleaders. I still wanted that indispensable widget on the edible channel that would allow me to make gourmet pop-tarts. I still wanted to be all that I could be if only I consumed more of my broadcast self image.

I walked slowly over to the television and reached into the webbed darkness behind it. I pulled the plug. Instantly, the screen flashed and the chaos continued. For a moment the picture surged and blinked into darkness but then the delivery continued. The sounds got louder and the message became more erratic. I stood back slowly as the picture appeared to grow larger and larger. I tried to look away from the light but I couldn’t. Messages of corporate coffee, pop music and name brand laundry detergent echoed off the back of my conscience. I couldn’t be sure which products my television told me to buy and which were ideas of my own. The confusion and mixed messages obscured my perception and made my reception unclear. Everything I’d ever consumed appeared to be an intravenous commercial success.

I raced across the room to take hold of the TV. It was the size of a small bolder. I struggled to keep my eyes closed. I grappled and swayed. The weight of the TV seemed immense. I struggled to find a small weakness in the ivory pillar holding the mammoth crater. A momentary flash of kids playing outside invaded my mind only to be chased out by the thought of a content child sitting in front of the televised blue light grasping a game controller in dexterous mortal combat. I felt gravity start to pull the screen to the floor. I pushed harder. A lifetime of memories began to pass before my mind. The descent gained momentum and the sirens raged louder and louder. The goliath screen lit the floor. Only the image of a mushroom cloud would rival my triumph. The screen crushed under the immense weight of the techno-socio-economic avalanche. A piercing bright white light cut the room in half releasing a deafening screech. As the light withdrew back into the empty black box, the sirens and the flashing lights were sucked into the now vacant black hole.

I awoke suddenly grasping damp sheets. The room was dark yet dimly lit by a brief but continuous passing blue light on the television screen. I reached for the remote and turned off the TV.