A less talked about and common characteristic of cyberpunk is it’s calm yet distressing portrayal of the environment. Sunny blue skies, clear diamond starlit nights, sunrises and sunsets beaming with colorful harvests of sunshine are replaced by thick dreary overcasts, soft rain penetrating dense smog, and monotone daylight. At night, the subtlety of the climate crisis is overshadowed by exuberant city lights and holography. Perhaps it’s a euphemism of our current outlook, where glamour captures our attention at the expense of our immediate earthly concerns. Moreover, cybercities seem alive at night instead of at day. Perhaps the denizens of the cyberworld prefer the warm glow of corporate advertisement to the daytime simulacrum of hell on earth.
Dystopian imagery need not be appear so bleak. The youth in James Dashner’s The Maze Runner lived an idyllic setting of sorts; if you don’t mind roughing it. A rustic life outlined by greenery, plows, and hammocks seems lovely compared to soul crushing urban decay. But the horrific and humongous roaches beyond the moss-covered walls belies the lack of freedom for Dashner’s characters. Cyber-cacotopias, in contrast, typically unveil soul-crushing imagery both inside and outside the megacity. The contrast is chromatic, where energetic shades of blues, purples, pinks, and reds emanating from 3-D billboards imprint character onto teeming, and yet dead, city landscapes that share the same drudging black and grey hues of its urban fashion. It’s as if corporations monopolized life itself. Although cyberpunk urbanity has a unique radiance, it’s still a visual assault on the spirit.
Why I think cyberpunk is able to slightly sprinkle hints of dread is through its display of climate crisis and urban decay. It’s something many people feel as something that is real, happening know, and only getting worse.
The air quality and color reminds me of Gattaca and several scenes from Blade Runner 2049. BBC News Caption (Bambang. When the particulate index reaches the level of 2,900. Photo by Bjorn Vaughn.).
Union Tribune June 18th 2012 article ” Students raise seabass, replenish species,” written by Maureen Magee, is a refreshing bit of news about our educational system, and to a another degree, our environment.
While in high school the most I had experienced nature as part of my studies was on a sketchy fishing boat off the coast of Long Beach, California looking for some of the largest animals to have existed, and seriously considering downing a whole bottle of Dramamine. I did not learn a damn thing excepting my introduction to motion sickness. The cost: medicine, gas for the boat and bus, and a whole school day. The benefit: learning to stare at the horizon can help prevent vomiting. But to actually take part in raising and researching a rapidly depleting animal is what I wish I had done instead in my marine biology class.
Helping the environment is no doubt going to take massively coordinated efforts by institutions but drops in the bucket can still add up to a splash. If this were fully inculcated into school curriculum, even in only several dozen schools, this can make a lasting and significant impact for diminishing fish stocks. Maybe this idea of producing while learning can help society be self-sustainable.
Imagine taking this ingenuity (and I’m sure they’re more common than my life-experience suggests) to other subjects for group or individual endeavor. Learn microeconomics, for instance, by growing a produce and trying to market the good. I’m sure there are many youth who have a more natural and herbal-minded lifestyle who can benefit from an easy A. Or how about writing a letter of protest to a company or politician; try to get it published and study the responses (or study why there were no responses) in English/Literature class. The cost: effort and various resources subject to the topic. The benefit: among others, a High School Diploma that means something.