The nine scrolls of hell

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I have a problem with YouTube.

A big problem.

There, I’ve said it.

Last night, for example: I wanted to watch a channel about etymology of which I’m a big fan: it’s fun but educational. Still, I tell myself, YouTube is incredible: quality content you can watch wherever and whenever you want!

Ah…

No new videos.

Darn…

What am I going to watch now?

I tidied up the kitchen in anticipation of this relaxing moment; in my head I gave myself permission to do nothing, to just have a little fun—come on, fifteen, twenty minutes, no more—I even sat down comfortably on my couch, and what? Nothing?

Really nothing?

I rearrange the cushions and scroll through looking for another video to watch. I skip past Orphans in the Victorian Era: A Story We Must Not Forget, a documentary I’ve added to my “watch later” list; and Clear Prose and Easy Style: How to Write a Successful Essay —the expert really seems to know what she’s talking about, maybe it could help me, but maybe tomorrow; over a podcast on Conspiracy Theories in the Age of the Internet—super important, but 2 hours and 37 minutes long, I’m not sure... I skip it because this is for relaxation; I need—I deserve—a little relaxation. Well, this show, The Depraved Prince and the End of Europe—let’s say it has some educational value. Yeah, it’s not bad, but another 42 minutes on the royal families of Serbia? No, sorry, that’s… too much to ask of me. It’s too demanding.

**Photo de** **Ashim D’Silvasur** **Unsplash**

I shift my position so I’m sitting less upright and lean my back against the armrest of the couch. I catch up with my old friends—the late-night shows I love—watch a new video, then an older episode, and another one that I must have seen three times already, which covers a news story from four years ago but still amuses me just as much.

Soon, I pile two, then three pillows behind my neck so I don’t have to strain to support it and… I hesitate.

What should I watch now? I scroll and scroll through dozens of videos that look interesting:

I’ve Never Killed Anyone, But…, an interview with a reformed drug dealer; Gambling Debts: The Beginning of the End; or maybe Chernobyl: What Really Happened. I keep scrolling, keep scrolling, because nothing appeals to me enough—or draws me in enough—to take the plunge, that is, to click. Well, actually, yes, something did catch my eye, but I’m trying to resist. As I was scrolling, I saw them, of course—impossible not to notice them. These shorts look like exactly what I’m looking for to watch tonight, to unwind. Something short that caters to my various interests. A little bit of everything—that’s good, right? And besides, it won’t take long—just three or four videos—and then I’ll watch what I’ve put on my mental list of things to watch later, surely Gambling Debts, the Beginning of the End, or I Promise, I Won’t Forget You, Orphans in the Victorian Era: A Story We Must Not Forget.

I lie down on the couch, placing my phone on the armrest to save myself the effort of holding it at arm’s length. Fifteen seconds of Do Drug Dealers Have Honor?, The World Is on Fire, A Series of Disasters, Teaching vs. Instructing: What’s the Difference?, Parent-Teacher Conferences That Turn Into Nightmares, Who Is Your Least Favorite Royal?, Conspiracy at the Heart of the Palace, The Lake of the Ultra-Rich, three seconds of George Clooney Responds, Why We All Hate The Duchess, Nobody Told Me, One Book, One Global Hit, One Super-Simple Recipe, Changing Your Life Has Never Been Easier, Five Stars Who Completely Changed Their Lives, Three Stars Who Disappeared After Having a Child, Children Need Boundaries, Your Child Will Always Thank You for Being Strict (But Later), Positive parenting Has Gone Too Far.

I’m completely slumped on my couch now.

I didn’t want to stumble upon any parenting channels—my kids are in bed, and I don’t feel like thinking about them right now. I go back—this time, I promise, Orphans of the Victorian Era, I’m coming—but, hey, it’s been a while since I’ve seen even five seconds of Do You Prefer Dancing at Sunrise or Sunset?, When This Song Comes On the Radio, Dancing at Your Wedding: The 5 Most Important Tips, Jay and Joyce Dance at Their Wedding—Completely Improvised!!, George Clooney Dances in the Street—The True Story, Is Paris Hilton Making a Comeback?, Behind the Perfect Life: The Heiress’s Hell.

I end up on James Tells All About His Completely Crazy Marriage Proposal!, a 30 seconds video about an American actor whose movies I’ve never seen. I’m swallowed up by the cushions, as if trapped in the middle of those foam cubes my kids love at trampoline parks—the kind that take a crazy amount of energy to climb out of. And then, something inside me wakes up, snaps me out of my lethargy, breaks my artificial coma, and extends a merciful hand to help me climb out of the pool of foam cubes. Like a start, a hiccup, a little voice—something tells me, “But wait, you’ve never seen any of James’s movies. You’re not going to watch his take on how to tell someone you love them especially since you think marriage proposals are completely ridiculous.” Okay, I have to stop. Stop.

My head is spinning.

What’s my name again?

1 hour and 24 minutes of scrolling.

Hey there, brain cells, are you still there? I’ve lost you.

I’ve descended so quickly into this burrow of misery—so quickly—that it scares me.

You can quickly make your way through the nine circles of Hell when you spend time on YouTube. Just like in The Divine Comedy, you descend from the lightest sin to the gravest; along with Dante and his guide Virgil, you encounter wretched souls, the guilty, the lustful, the gluttonous, the miserly and those who squander their wealth on bling, the wrathful who flew into a rage over everything without thinking, the slothful who wait to become famous without lifting a finger, the heretics and the violent, fraudsters selling you miracle cures in pill form, and traitors to their loved ones or to themselves, trapped in ice. It’s the same vain humanity that YouTube distills into fifteen seconds poison.

Dante and I may not be so different: the poet, too, needs to pass through the nine circles, needs to descend and descend ever deeper; he, too, needs to see with his own eyes the worst and the even worse; perhaps he, too, promises himself to watch Orphans in the Victorian Era, a story we must not forget—but tomorrow, or in the next circle. He also needs to reach the bottom in order to climb back out. But he does, in fact, end up climbing back out.

So what? Will I be only repeat what I did yesterday, the day before, tomorrow, and the day after—descending into Hell without ever finding the entrance to Purgatory?

What? Tomorrow, I’ll take the same path, I’ll begin this descent all over again without having learned anything, I’ll open the same YouTube, I’ll see the same unfortunate souls—and from being a spectator, I’ll ultimately find myself a damned soul, too, condemned to live without truly living.

At the bottom of the well where I hoped to find water to refresh myself and where I ultimately find only ice—hello, it’s me.

I think back to the opening lines of The Divine Comedy:

"Midway upon the journey of our life

I woke to find myself in a dark wood,

for the straight way had been lost.”

Yet the opening lines of The Divine Comedy tell me this: I am in a dense jungle, and I’m going to need a guide to find my way out.

Would you be willing to be my Virgil?

And, in return, can I be yours?

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Translated by Deepl.com and the author

But I'm going to make it. In a year, I'll have given up my smartphone. To be continued ...

#4 : in 344 days, I’m giving up my smartphone…