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Really liked this (German) post on X. Grok translation below.

https://xcancel.com/Andreesufifltz/status/1985711328523333953

I recently watched old VHS recordings – from American schools in the 80s. A student runs through the hallways with the camera, filming laughing faces, sunlight falling through dusty windows. And as I watched, this strange feeling came over me, as if I were peering into another dimension. Not into the past – but into a world that no longer exists. Or perhaps into one that never existed for me.

The faces were different. Relaxed, free, with a naturalness I don’t know. Without the tense self-observation that accompanies every movement today. The people seemed whole. Girls and boys laughed, made jokes, teased each other, and it was just real. There was life that hadn’t yet started censoring itself.

I compared the recordings to photos from my own school days, with girlfriends and friends from my class. And I was shocked. It was as if I’d been torn out of my own reality – a moment that psychology calls existential dissonance or cognitive incongruence: When the familiar worldview suddenly no longer fits, and you realize that something fundamental has been lost.

In comparison, we looked like a column from a prison camp. Our faces doll-like, posed. The smiles technically correct, but inwardly empty. The eyes held no warmth – they were just there, staring off into emptiness somewhere. There was a certain cynicism to it.

In perceptual psychology, this is called contrastive perception – the moment when you first recognize the decay, when you place what’s been lost right next to it.

I call this feeling the Silent Hill Effect. Anyone who knows the game or the film understands: It’s the same world – the same streets, the same houses – but suddenly everything turns dark, dead, oppressive. The fog settles over the town, and something invisible has swallowed the living.

Once, humans were beings who experienced the world, felt it – in music, in culture, in encounters. Today, they are observers of their own projection. They no longer live, they document. They don’t laugh, they post. They don’t love, they perform.

And as we record ourselves in real time, reality fades like a tired magnetic tape, where memory and echo overlap until only static remains.

What we lack isn’t technology, isn’t progress – it’s the authenticity of the present. The unfiltered, the spontaneous, the human. We’ve multiplied everything, except the feeling of being there.

Perhaps we’re not so far from Silent Hill after all. Perhaps we’ve long been living in it – in a world that looks like ours, only without a soul.

I myself never experienced that time, have no memories, no smells, no sounds – just the flickering recording on the VHS tape. And yet it feels to me like a relic from another world – a world in which humans were still real.

Really liked this (German) post on X. Grok translation below. https://xcancel.com/Andreesufifltz/status/1985711328523333953 >I recently watched old VHS recordings – from American schools in the 80s. A student runs through the hallways with the camera, filming laughing faces, sunlight falling through dusty windows. And as I watched, this strange feeling came over me, as if I were peering into another dimension. Not into the past – but into a world that no longer exists. Or perhaps into one that never existed for me. > The faces were different. Relaxed, free, with a naturalness I don’t know. Without the tense self-observation that accompanies every movement today. The people seemed whole. Girls and boys laughed, made jokes, teased each other, and it was just real. There was life that hadn’t yet started censoring itself. > I compared the recordings to photos from my own school days, with girlfriends and friends from my class. And I was shocked. It was as if I’d been torn out of my own reality – a moment that psychology calls existential dissonance or cognitive incongruence: When the familiar worldview suddenly no longer fits, and you realize that something fundamental has been lost. > In comparison, we looked like a column from a prison camp. Our faces doll-like, posed. The smiles technically correct, but inwardly empty. The eyes held no warmth – they were just there, staring off into emptiness somewhere. There was a certain cynicism to it. > In perceptual psychology, this is called contrastive perception – the moment when you first recognize the decay, when you place what’s been lost right next to it. > I call this feeling the Silent Hill Effect. Anyone who knows the game or the film understands: It’s the same world – the same streets, the same houses – but suddenly everything turns dark, dead, oppressive. The fog settles over the town, and something invisible has swallowed the living. > Once, humans were beings who experienced the world, felt it – in music, in culture, in encounters. Today, they are observers of their own projection. They no longer live, they document. They don’t laugh, they post. They don’t love, they perform. > And as we record ourselves in real time, reality fades like a tired magnetic tape, where memory and echo overlap until only static remains. > What we lack isn’t technology, isn’t progress – it’s the authenticity of the present. The unfiltered, the spontaneous, the human. We’ve multiplied everything, except the feeling of being there. > Perhaps we’re not so far from Silent Hill after all. Perhaps we’ve long been living in it – in a world that looks like ours, only without a soul. > I myself never experienced that time, have no memories, no smells, no sounds – just the flickering recording on the VHS tape. And yet it feels to me like a relic from another world – a world in which humans were still real.
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[–] • 3 pts

Most decades all have the same air about them - if you can remember it, you weren't there.

I can't really remember the 80s although my driver's license does suggest that I must have been there. I'd probably have felt more at home during the 50s and 60s.

[–] • 4 pts

Did you mean if you "can't" remeber it, you werent there?

[–] • 3 pts

I meant nothing more than what I said.

[–] • 3 pts

That is pretty common. A White, high trust society. The blacks dressed better, worked to raise families, people could afford things because they lived within their means. We did not yet realize the government hated, and despised us.

[–] • 1 pt

I don’t think those that hate us had taken hold of the government in the 50s and 60s…they started getting a footing in the 60s, but 70s and on seems to be where things accelerated.

[–] • 1 pt

To me, the acceleration was tied to the gradual passing of the WWII generation. They actually had it rough, then went to war. Their knowledge, wisdom, humor, sense of right and wrong, sense of duty, work ethic, all lost gradually.

[–] • 2 pts

I’m going to guess your parents had you later in life like mine in their mid 30’s as I identify with their time more in character and ideals. But I do remember every bit of growing up in the 80’s.

Interesting how memory works. I drove by a boat yard the other day and a flash out of the corner of my eye, head whip, a wake board boat with some of the most vivid “bass boat” sparkle I’ve ever seen. Then the flood, a tidal way of emotion and memories. As a kid I for a toy truck and bass boat and played with it in the dirt. That bass boat had stickers on the side that was the same ultra sparkle that bass boats of the time had. All of that came rushing in. Being a kid, innocence, just days and days of playing in the yard and on a mound of dirt. Backing the trailer with the truck and not picking it up and moving it, because dad backed his trailer. The red of that bass boat was the fire in my heart extinguished so long ago. Now it’s more like the read on the truck the last time I remember seeing it, faded and chalky, sun bleached from sitting out on the patio all those years.

I guess as I type this it makes me want to find that sparkle every day. I will try more, harder to take in the now.

Thanks for this post. Upvotes for all.

[–] • 2 pts

No, they were early 20s. I just identify with earlier because of my work and hobbies.

[–] • 1 pt

Got my first job in '83. First car in '85 or so. Did a lot of shit and memory of some of it is hazy. Guess I was there.

I do remember being carefree af. There was also a lot of debt, a hole which I had to dig myself out of for years. Felt bad.

I'd do most of it again, given the chance and right circumstances, I guess. But I'm not longing for it. Then was then and now is now.

[–] • 1 pt

Indeed. There are things about those times I liked, but you must look forward.