Amanda's View: Reality is better

By Amanda Knox

Reality is better, certainly. At the end of the day, reality is what’s left when all enhanced realities are put away. It used to be easier to tell the difference—art, film, music, playstations—all of these enhanced realities were limited in their means and scope such that they could distract from, inform, communicate with, but not substitute for reality. Now technology has advanced and has become so integral to our personal and social lives that the line between enhanced reality and reality reality is blurred. Devices have become real extensions of our physical body in the virtual reality we’ve created for ourselves. Now there’s Pokemon Go.

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Amanda's View: Oasis as counterbalance, or vise versa

By Amanda Knox

Oasis. The word conjures sunlight, water, trees, the sensation of sinking into soft, white sand. Relief. Delight. I think of weightlessness, of the release of strain that comes not from the relief of burdens, but from their perfect counterbalance.

Take dancing, for example. In West Coast Swing class, I’m instructed to strive for the push and the stretch. My hands linked with my partner’s, we maintain a firm yet flexible frame to push into and stretch out from, following to the momentum of the particular dance phrase. In a push—sugar push, they say—we step into the space between us, compacting, but not collapsing, our frame. Our biceps and rhomboids tense, and like positively charged magnets, we bounce away from each other before we bonk noses.

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Amanda's View: The word and peanut butter sandwiches

By Amanda Knox

I don’t know how old I was exactly, but I was as old as you are when you stand eye-level with the kitchen counter. All the neighborhood kids were gathered in my backyard and we were playing pretend. In this game, I was a cat that bestowed wisdom and favor from my lazy yet daring perch atop the swingset. It must have been late afternoon, because I was hungry and assumed everyone else was hungry too. Without further ado, I found Mom in the kitchen and asked, “Mom, can I make everyone peanut butter sandwiches?”

She was standing at the kitchen sink, looking out at the backyard through the window, and there was a moment before she responded, as if she were entranced. From my kitchen-counter angle, all I could see of her view were the first orange hues in the sky. Finally she turned to me and said, “I’m glad you thought to do that. Of all the things I wish for you to become, I wish that you be kind.”

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