At the dinner table the other evening, my son-in-law was telling his 10 and 12-year-old daughters (my granddaughters) about augmented reality, specifically about goggles that superimpose computer generated imagery on views of the real world. You might play video games, for example, fighting off monsters, in your own house and neighborhood.
I'm thinking: I don't want augmented reality. I'm thinking: I'm trying to simplify reality, strip it to essentials, lay it bare. The winter Milky Way arching across the sky from Cassiopeia to Canis Major. The osprey. The hummingbird. Earth, air, fire and water. The quick, pure apprehension of what is.
But the granddaughters are young and curious and a target audience for augmentation. When my generation was 10 or 12 years old, we also looked forward to augmented reality. It was called adolescence.