💾 Archived View for gemini.ctrl-c.club › ~stack › gemlog › 2023-07-04.reader.gmi captured on 2024-08-18 at 18:00:06. Gemini links have been rewritten to link to archived content
⬅️ Previous capture (2023-07-10)
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The last of the lucky few, those who could afford sinking a year's salary for a ticket, push their way into the vast hall as the lights slowly dim. Hushed conversations end, and an oppressive silence pours over the darkness. A barely-lit stage commands full attention now -- except for the occasional tigadink-dadading-dadaa-wink of a stray phone followed by aggressive hissing from all directions.
The silence continues. And then there is motion on the stage. Everyone stands -- The Reader is here!
I can't believe it. Camera on, hearts are flying across my screen as my friends cheer me... Volume goes up and everyone is taking selfies, even though The Reader is barely discernable.
The Reader procedes to center-stage and lifts up his hand. Even from my far-away seat I can see he is holding up his phone. The crowd is standing up -- and so am I, to see what's happening. I was told the performance would stun me. The crowd goes wild -- "He turned off the phone! He turned off his phone!"... I can't see the reader but he slowly turns around so everyone can see the dark screen he is holding high above his head.
Everyone slowly re-seats themselves, and things get quiet -- so quiet I can hear my heart beating as The Reader stands, motionless in the center of the stage. Then, everyone is on their feet yet again. I ask people around -- what's happening? People are on their tip-toes, then another roar makes its way around the audience -- "He put the phone down! He is not even charging it!". A few more minutes go by as everyone settles back down. I can now clearly see a small table mid-stage, covered with a velvet cushion. The Reader's phone sits squarely in the middle as The Reader moves slightly to the side.
A spotlight goes on, and we see a deep overstuffed armchair in the center of a brightly lit circle. The crowd explodes. Everyone has their phone over their heads, a good quarter of the people are agitatedly telling their friends about what's happening; every few feet an influencer with a bright ring-light provides a blow-by blow.
The Reader patiently waits while people converse and take pictures and videos. I manage to update my WhackSpace and return three grams from friends asking how it's going. Eventually, people remember why they came and how much they had paid for this, and turn back to the stage -- even the influencers. Silence, and all eyes are now directed at The Reader.
The Reader does not fail the crowd, and out of nowhere, has a large hard-bound book in his hands, raising it over his head and slowly turning so everyone can see. The crowd goes crazy again, and flashes from the phones blind me while everyone is on their feet again. I can't see anything, so I play a few chess moves and answer a gmail from my therapist -- she can see me tomorrow, and I will have pictures of The Reader she had asked for. What else am I doing this week? Oh, wait, it's quiet again.
I look up, then back at my phone. How long is this show anyway?
The reader sits in the chair causing another wave of excitement in the audience. "He is sitting down!". This is incredible -- The Reader now opens his book, and I am here to witness it. I fiddle with my camera settings to reduce the graininess, and the AI kicks in and substitutes a clear-as-day picture of The Reader. Ah, much better.
The Reader wiggles in the chair to get comfortable. The crowd watches almost silently - I can hear only a dozen disjointed conversations now, and these are ending one by one. He is reading! He is reading! Everyone is shoving each other and pointing. He is actually reading! Can you believe it! He is quietly reading!
We all stare, in total silence and awe. The Reader silently turns the page, the croud murmurs and quiets down again. Minutes go by, then someone turns on WorldFlix. A football game blow-by-blow is heard from another direction. An argument breaks out in front and is extinguished. The reader silently continues reading as we watch. How can he do that for so long? Young people are rocking out to a PurpleTooth speaker in someone's pocket. I post a couple of updates, scratch my head, and shoot a few rounds of BattleWords with friends. The Reader is motionless, except for the occasional page turn.
Conversations are now buzzing, and phones ringing. Occasionally we glance at the stage -- nothing has changed. Time is now flying, and I learned a bunch of Spanish words, updated my calendar and made a few appointments. Then a chime rings and The Reader is on his feet again.
Is it over? We are all relieved, and at the same time a little sad. This is as good as art gets! And now it's over. Everyone is on their feet; The Reader thanks everyone who came, applause, whistles, and he is gone. The crowd shuffles to exits, talking on their phones.
I, too am on the phone. "It was amazing!" I shout to my husband, as another call interrupts us.