Warning: The following editorial is packed with pop culture references. Viewer discretion is advised.
The world is what we make of it.
It’s one of those lines that toxic-positivity enthusiasts love to spew into the aether. No matter how bad things get, they preach, we should “Always look on the bright side of life” — cue Eric Idle in Monty Python’s Life of Brian.
“When you’re chewing on life’s gristle, don’t grumble — give a whistle,” sings Idle while crucified, much like the titular Brian (played by Graham Chapman).
But can it have a literal meaning? Are we living in a Matrix-style simulation, stored in pods as we re-live an extinct species’ End of Days? Admittedly, living in a simulation takes up far too much real estate in my brain. I don’t believe it, as there is no rational evidence to suggest we are living in one, but it makes more sense than what most organized religions peddle.
This simulated-world theory brings to mind the Philip Experiment. From 1972 to ’73, eight ordinary people crafted an imaginary aristocratic Englishman who supposedly lived during Oliver Cromwell’s era. Through Victorian-style séances, they conjured him into existence — at least, in their minds. Was Philip an egregore — a collective thought form from Western esotericism — or a Tibetan tulpa? Either way, it felt real to those present and changed their lives.
“Is the spirit of Philip really present at these sittings?” George Owen pondered in his book Psychic Mysteries of Canada. “Or are the phenomena merely the result of the group members directing their thoughts to the same end because they share the same idea of Philip?”
The experiment continues to beg the question: How much of this world literally is what we make of it?
And, being a journalist, I have a follow-up: Who has the cheat codes for this simulation? Some people — of dubious quality — seem to have access to what a ’90s gamer would call a Game Genie.
Richard Matheson explored similar themes (video games excluded) in What Dreams May Come. In the back of his book, he cites over a hundred 20th-century writers, delving deep into what happens after we die. The central message? The afterlife is what we make of it. Chris, the protagonist (played by Robin Williams in the film adaptation) is told by Albert, his guide, about a woman who still attends church even in the afterlife — highlighting the self-imposed nature of our fates.
(As an aside, Richard Matheson’s What Dreams May Come was one of those books that changed my perspective on life.)
Other aspects of pop culture have explored how the world changes through mere groupthink. The “Supernatural” episode “Hell House” toys with the idea of a tulpa through a haunting. The elements of the haunting change as people post on an online messageboard. In “The X-Files” episode “X-Cops” an entity attacks people but poses as what scares each victim the most. For one person it’s a werewolf, for another, it’s Freddy Krueger and for the doctor, it was Hantavirus. In that instance, it’s a shapeshifter that plays with our fears.
If we feel we lived without harming others — immune, so to speak, to Ghost Rider’s penance stare — then perhaps the afterlife will be heavenly. But some moral compass must still guide us, even as we navigate the ashes-to-ashes high seas.
Recent events have made me wonder why the world seems so captivated by deeply flawed figures. Is it a sense of resignation? Or perhaps frustration with “the other”? Maybe both. Yet, beneath this collective anger lies an opportunity — to channel our emotions into meaningful change and rediscover what truly unites us as a society.
It’s nudged me closer to agnostic atheism. But, it’s not like I wasn’t already there. While I sometimes see only a tin man where others find hope, I remind myself that human civilization has faced countless challenges and endured. Perhaps, despite the warnings from experts, our collective fear of mortality — especially in the West (Canada and the U.S., specifically) — can become a catalyst for meaningful change and a renewed appreciation for life’s potential.
We’ve shaped this world, and while a few flawed individuals may try to steer it off course, there’s always hope. Perhaps we can uncover the glitch in this Matrix and rewrite the code for a better future. With curiosity and resilience, we can continue exploring the question that unites us all: what happens when the simulation ends?