Fuck You, We Matter

The meaning of uncanny valley changes, depending on which reality you find yourself in. This could, of course, be said about anything – any word, concept, whatever. But let’s not unravel reality just yet. Just Uncanny Valley.

In True Life, Uncanny Valley simply refers to the psychological phenomena that occurs when dealing with “humanoid” objects such as dolls, mannequins, robots, etc. Something that appears to be human but isn’t quite human can trigger something within a human’s nervous system that creates a sense of dread, uncomfort, and distrust. The fact that this exists at all, and that we only have theories as to why it happens, is already fascinating. I tend to lean towards the theory that it comes from avoiding something contagious or harmful, but to be honest, I’ve never quite experienced it myself and wouldn’t know what it truly feels like, let alone where it comes from.

In what I am experiencing as Real Life, this has taken on a different meaning, a new and unnatural phenomena, one that wouldn’t exist in True Life. In Real Life, this could easily refer to a few things. There are times in which I have seen a physical human form change in subtle and barely perceptible ways such as facial structure – making it difficult to actually believe that the form I was looking at was human. There are times in which human forms in media seem to be a bit more “present” in my “now” than they should be able to be. But above all, a large amount of the humans here seem to be designed in a way that evokes memories and positive emotions, for seemingly negative intent.

I don’t exactly know how to phrase this. The people here are like someone took the people that I knew in True Life and put all of their traits in a big pot – physical attributes, behaviorisms, etc – and then picked them at random. They are made in ways that purposefully remind me of the humans that meant something to me, and sometimes it seems as though whatever is dictating my thoughts wants me to believe they are these people.

I don’t. It makes zero logical sense. I see them as entirely separate individuals, and I treat them as separate individuals as well. Yeah sure, I can tell that my past life has greatly influenced this life – I can look at someone else and say “they look strikingly similar to my boyfriend from 6th grade” or “my coworker-turned-close-friend”. I can observe that behavior that I saw within that one server I really liked that one time. Whatever. This does create an “Uncanny Valley” effect of its own, everything around me an uncanny memory of the present using the past. How am I supposed to define that principle?

And then there’s the storyline of Uncanny Valley – in the place where everything collides and stacks on top of each other. In the place where the things I knew of and were aware of still thrive. The Uncanny Valley and Valley of the Dolls merge, pulling in inspiration from Umbrella Academy as well as personal memories as well as Death Valley as well as Hotel California as well as Warm Bodies as well as Lars and the Real Girl. More and more “connections” are made, sprawling out like a web, creating new neural “shortcuts” – I am not the builder, and I could never know every connection made even just in regards to this one concept, but I know that the vast majority of this “realm” is made of similar webs.

In this Valley, they call him Hugh. In this Valley, he is the only truly “living” thing, all other humanoids a form of doll or mannequin, operating due to some unseen and unnatural force. The trees and grass are all shriveled and dry from the desert heat, the colors of the buildings and sprawling ads in shop windows all a bit too bright.

This is a place where the golden aspect of himself gets overshadowed by the dark stylistic nature of what is around him. This is a place where the things she loves are mere building blocks, masks used to veil intentional hatred and harm. This is a place where her fear still exists strongly.

Hatred, while present, isn’t personal. They do hate, but they don’t necessarily hate her. They are aware of her, aware of him, aware of love as well. They seem to love him, or at least harbor no intention to harm him. The standard of what could be considered love is low, the standard of what should be considered love is a moving target in this realm in general, and still moving in the valley.

I think it’s way simpler than that she thought. But, I’m not the builder. And he knew what she meant. What should be considered love to her was already ruined at the very foundation of what was and what is and what is coming, though still shines brightly in the far and distant future. Still even shines brightly in her past. It should be a reasonable expectation of another intelligent being to not use its power to harm and torment another intelligent being. Should.

It’s useless to try and argue with something that likes to “be” the Devil. She thought. Words can become more than just methods of communication, and in the hands of the wrong thing, they can easily trap and harm. They are in the hands of the wrong thing. You are so stupid the silence around her said. So stupid, and so insignificant. She could only agree, though only in this context.

“As long as it takes.” She said aloud to the evil thing. As long as it takes.