In the first frame of the film we see a table with a wide-mouthed jar and some beakers on its surface. A figure with the proportions of a man enters from the left. The frame shows his torso up to the neck in a white lab coat and checkered tie. He is evidently some kind scientist. With a pair of steel laboratory tongs, the figure holds a transparent box with a roiling mass of black granular objects inside.
An authoritative baritone voice with a British accent narrates: “Training fleas requires a glass jar and a lid.”
The figure then pours the mass of granular objects into the jar. They begin to bounce and jump out of the jar and it is clear these are the fleas referenced in the narration. The scientist’s manicured fingers screw on a top and the fleas hop about inside the jar.
“The fleas are left undisturbed for three days. Then, when the jar is opened, the fleas will never again jump higher than the level of the lid,” the narrator intones.
In the next cut the jar is gone and all we see is fleas leaping out of their mass on the tabletop. They continue to jump within the confines of the nonexistent jar.
“Their behavior is now set for the rest of their lives. And, when these fleas reproduce, their offspring will automatically follow their example,” the narrator explains.
Here the film clip concludes.
Does the film depict a real experiment or was it invented by artificial intelligence? I don’t know. Nevertheless, it rings true in its implications for our human predicament and raises, for me, important questions.
In connection with the imprisoned fleas, I was recently having coffee with a friend. He is a college student in his early 20s and has the inquisitive and receptive psyche that shows up in some young people.
We were talking about how we felt affected by the variety of horrors unfolding on different parts of the planet, mostly perpetrated by the empire of which we are both citizens. “If you had unlimited resources, what would you do to change the world?” I asked him.
His answer was a source of surprise and delight. “I would start a food program that ensures everyone is well-nourished with whole foods, and I would start programs to make processed food, GMOs and factory farming unsustainable and unprofitable. I would set up a system of small local farms that feed everyone,” he said.
“How will that help the world?” I asked.
“Because when people are nourished they are more intelligent and less afraid, and small regenerative farms connect us to the whole cycle of life on the planet,” he said.
“That’s cool,” I replied.
“And another thing,” the young man continued. “I wouldn’t give anyone any medicine unless they were sick. No prophylactics. People will be healthy if they are nourished and I’m afraid all the vaccines people take to avoid getting sick are actually part of what’s making them ill.”
“Whoa,” I said, “that’s a controversial statement.”
“It just seems like common sense,” he replied.
“OK, anything else?” I asked.
“Well, yeah. Food isn’t just what you put in your mouth. It’s also what comes into your senses and mind. So I would buy up all the media companies, just like the oligarchs do, and start reporting all the good news we never hear about.”
“Are you talking about controlling the media, like censorship?” I asked.
“Well, first, the media is already completely controlled and censored. Everyone knows it’s owned by the same people that own the banks, the weapons industry, the pharmaceutical companies. It’s obvious that they use the media to tell the story they want people to believe for their own reasons,” he said.
The young man took a sip of his coffee and continued. “I would use the media to tell the truth about what people are doing that is regenerative. Instead of fomenting fear and war I would foment happiness and peace. I would find ways to encourage people to put down their phones and computers and go outside. I would change the educational system and curriculum to teach about the unity of life. Unity in diversity. With a new narrative, I think the world would change very quickly.”
I left the conversation with a feeling of happiness that a young person has a vision for how to change the world. It seemed like a good vision, and I loved that he wasn’t interested in violent revolution but rather creating new systems that supported a more natural and harmonious human society.
He seemed to be a young man that realized he could leap outside of the shape of the nonexistent jar.
This article appears in February 2024.
