In Aldous Huxley’s novel Brave New World, people take a drug, Soma. The drug causes people to be distracted, their thoughts centre around the drug and just how wonderful it makes them feel. In George Orwell’s 1984, the ordinary citizens (proletariats) are kept amused and addled by the lottery. These distractions allow the governments to do what they want without any trouble from the masses.
I’ve never cared much for playing the lottery, and thus far I’ve never stepped into a casino. My mother has always bought tickets, but she’s never been obsessed with it as some people seem to be. She said to me recently, “I used to imagine winning all sorts of millions, now I just hope to win enough to pay off my bills.”
The lottery site lists the most common numbers presumably to give people an opportunity to mix and match in order to gain better odds. Some people have been playing the same numbers for years. I watched a news piece that said, there is no difference in odds between someone who plays the same numbers and someone who gets a quick pick.
The other night the lottery was so large that wherever my man and I went, friends, clerks in shops, strangers would mention it. I bought 2 tickets, plus encore (I have NO idea what encore means or how it works), for this big money roll.
Of course there are always the devoted people who play faithfully. But in this economic climate my co-workers, friends, family are all betting a few dollars for the hope of financial happiness. I care about costs, and responsibilities but I’ve never bothered to try and pay my way through life with a lottery ticket. When I bought that big money hopeful ticket the other day, I had lofty goals of what I would do with it. Help my family and friends, help my list of charities. Even the house I imagined buying was a solar, water and energy efficient do-gooder. So for that, I convinced myself to stop balking at my previous attitude and chip in a buck or two (another dollar with encore).
Today, alas, I am not any richer. It was when I said to my man, “Well next Wednesday for sure,” when I stepped back and Orwell’s proles came to mind.
I’m pondering how that can be applied to the way I, and my non-typical lottery playing friends, have changed our behaviours. The lottery organization donates to charities. So why should we feel guilty? It gives people a sense of hope and excitement. So is that a bad thing? Maybe most of the people who win, are good people, and hopefully they needed the money, and they spend it wisely. So why shouldn’t people try for themselves?
I can’t decide. It seems harmless to buy a ticket, and maybe it doesn’t require a discussion. But I can see that we have quite an array of distractions vying for our time. I don’t want to be a mindless drone moving through the malls, or turning to a reality show instead of choosing to watch the news. I may be putting too much thought into this, or maybe others aren’t putting enough in. For the moment, I don’t want to waste my money on anymore encores.
Filed under: That's Life
