Tetrapeutic

Tetris is a classic. Developed in the 80s by a smart Russian man, the simple geometric premise of the game allows for almost infinite combinations of patterns and skill levels. But beyond the dry exterior lies a spiritual life of the game -a hidden dragon, so to speak. The simplicity of its construction could be described as elemental, and it's ever changing tiles belie its water-like tendencies. I am reminded of a quote by Bruce Lee: "Water can flow, or it can crash. Be like water, my friend". Tetris is just so elusive and unforgiving, silently molding it's shape around your state of being, and quickly ripping away any hard surfaces in its path.

To successfully play the game (and we're talking real deal marathon here), you must be malleable as well, keeping your mind pliable along with your fingers. This is state of focused devotion to your one goal: clearing away what is unnecessary. It is an endless game, just like other virtuous pursuits, and as the tiles get faster one must remain calm and centered. The chance that is involved in terms of upcoming tiles removes any focus on the future beyond your next move. The game makes you inhabit the now. From an architectural perspective, it constructs the perfect space for the exact moment you're in, reflecting your own input and the game's almost equally.

Perhaps you can tell my fascination with it. I've been playing Tetris almost every day for the past six years, and through countless hours spent numbing my thumbs a pattern has emerged: The more clear-headed I am, the better I do. Because I play it so much, I often find myself doing it without thinking about the game at all, instead musing on dreams, personal interactions, ways of thinking about them. It's therapy, in a way. And not only does it allow me to reflect, my level of clarity is directly connected with my progress in the game. If I have a calm and level-headed approach to my life, I'll look up to realize that I've beaten my high score. And when you link up with the game, the pieces seem to come at just the right moments, making the game an affirmation of thinking. Conversely, when things are anxious and undecided, my disconnect with the game seems complete, and I have no luck with block, and often make mistakes.

The resulting thesis I have about Tetris sounds more Chinese than Russian, but I think that it may very well be the greatest electronic ritual for finding one's way. The rituals that Confucius talks about in the Analects have a similar quality as this psychological massaging. As it says,
"At age fifteen I set my heart upon learning…and at age seventy I could follow my heart’s desire without overstepping the bounds of propriety”(Analects, 2:4). The way to reach such a place is through ritual and learning, training your instinct to work with your mind. Tetris is just such a ritual.

If you battle against it you may be victorious, but surrender to it completely and it gives you freedom. For me, it's always a learning experience.

The Jetsons, er, the Schweebs

People, it seems, lack a sense of what the future should be. We have no idea what it's supposed to look like. So our minds fall to thinking about the imagery from the cartoons we've seen in our childhood. I wold purport (with much purpose) that in many respects, the future is being created as an imitation of our wildest celluloid imaginations. And the craziest thing is, it's real - it really is what it's pretending to be. Maybe I'm crazy, and perhaps I don't know much about the future (except, of course, everything about it. But we all know exactly what's happening on November 23rd, 2011), but bear with me for a moment.

Let's take this premise: it's the future. And now that we've stopped living our dreams in the long-forgotten television, what are we to do on a lazy weekend? Basketball? No, the robots down at the court are too good, it's not fun any more. One could go to the local Ye Olde Mini Golfe place, or drive some Go Karts. But if those diversions are too old-fashioned, you can get your futuristic kicks and head to the racing-pod-monorail place. The Shweeb. For real.
photo: "The Scwheeb" monorail system. www.shweeb.com

But wait. This is not the future, this is happening right now!
Hanging in plexiglass enclosed pods, you zip around a race track trying to beat your opponent and, I assume, not look like a complete idiot. And while this looks like a lot of benign fun, it's only the preliminary stages of development. See, the people at Shweeb are merely testing the cow-eyed public's acceptance of this form of transportation; their real goal is to make vast inter-borough transportation networks of these commuter pods. It smacks of something from the sixties, and after all, it is a bunch of Australians who created it. From their website:

" The Shweeb is a direct response to the transportation needs of today and the future....Any attempt to resuscitate the automobile by devising a new fuel or engine is doomed. Our cities simply can’t cope with rising numbers of cars or parking spaces. In our opinion a fresh approach is required...Our proposal to get you safely and quickly from one point in the city to another would be to elevate you onto a network of interconnected monorails where you never have to stop at traffic lights. The ideal vehicle for such a system already exists.

Fully faired recumbent cycles, because of their low aerodynamic resistance, are breaking all bicycle speed records and currently reaching speeds of 90 kph (56 mph) in sprints. Suspending these comfortable and highly efficient machines from monorail tracks has the added advantage of taking away the rolling resistance of pneumatic tyres. Trains of Shweebs can further reduce the aero drag – ten people travelling at 40 kph will each have a lot less work to do than a single rider at the same speed." (Schweeb.com)

From their polemic it's not hard to imagine entire cities covered in a web of transparent pods, zipping people to work with zero emissions, and seemingly fewer worries. It is a heady idea, one made more realistsic by their computer generated simulation of such a transportation system (right). Wait, maybe this is a time warp, I certainly can't handle the graphics. Maybe they're too ahead of their time, and maybe I have a softer spot for the Flintstones, but at least this isn't some subconscious re-creation of 1984.

So while we're trying to find our futures, we've found ourselves in the time-space of the future-past, stuck right back in the present.