Recently I lost a friend, but then mysteriously, I found on fb a bunch of long-lost ones. The high-school 1974 yearbook (I was away from the site for more than 2 years).
It featured b/w photos of each student and class representatives.
1974 marked the first and only SAT exam graded by IBM machine in SVN. Our Luddites resented and rebelled against automated ABCD pencil # 2 answers (optical grading). They did not have to look hard to find a justifiable cause albeit prematurely: how come a typical top-of-class student flunk while others on the far side of the bell-curve passed?
Therefore, it’s me who was “used” as an illustration for their counter-trend argument.
“Invalid” answer sheets emerged for various reasons: machine couldn’t read, multiple markings for one question, or unqualified pencil and partially blackened due to time-pressure.
Fake news in print went ahead without waiting for further fact-checking (hand-graded post was released trailing machine-graded list for a few days, undertandably): “hoc sinh uu tu thi rot tu tu”…
The sensational headlines that grabbed attention and sold papers. It went on to announce I had committed suicide for failing the IBM-graded exam (in SVN, at that time, it meant draft deferral revoked due to the Vietnamization process of the war).
“When will they ever learn… where have all the flowers gone”.
The wall. The list of names. To pass or not to pass.
Classmates and friends showed kindness and solidarity.
Phan Uu. Phung Dieu. To die alone but to live in respect together.
They came sitting in my living room. Like an old song like a long-lost friend. From High School. From all walks of life, co-ed or all-boys.
I was shocked at my own socially-induced suicide. When did it happen?
How come I wasn’t informed! At least, give me a heads-up. Some signs.
To say goodbye to family and friends, neighbors and teachers.
How many times could one be dead? fake death! to test and rehearse reactions? to self-sabotage? A mockup exam carried to its logical end? courage test.
By re-entering this social media site, I felt a sense of estrangement as one cannot reemerge into the same stream of time or river. Friendship is not like a Starbucks drive-through.
People grow older, hence change.
Still, the same stimulus-response process with more predictive and tailored ads.
Those who enjoy fake news are still faking it.
Those who hop in and out are still doing so out of Fear of Missing Out.
The multiple personalities of facebook friends.
For me, I had once “played” dead induced by our luddite-teachers, who were anti-technology, against progress, and politicizing everything at every turn.
Much as today with the advent of AI and its repercussions.
Each event draws out reaction then reaction to reaction to form a human chain unnoticeably called evolution. I could have just stopped right then and there in Ban Co alley, 1974, and not proceed onto this day.
I would miss out a lot. Most precious of all, my sending off loved ones over the time-wall, this side of the ocean, like I have discovered last week, over time and distance, long lost friends on Facebook. Technology and me, time and me, space and me. Somehow, that feeling and friendship don’t go away. Like seeing a relative just one time, but the genes could tell, we’re birds of the same feathers.
Then we live till our end to stare death in the eyes.
P.S. for b. Hong, Nhut of Hung Dao 12-A1 class of 1974 who checked up on me during that dark excruciating pause between machine-graded and human-graded pass list.
Thang Nguyen 555 
Leave a comment