Well, hello my dears.

This is Too Hot for Radio and I'm a Parnan in Sherlock, back with yet another story bound

to make public radio listeners uncomfortable.

If you know me, I mean you don't, but if you did, you know that I don't do small talk.

Whether traffic, the mating habits of TikTok celebrities and their pets.

Nah, I'd rather skip the pleasantries and ask about real things.

I mean literally, what is real?

Oh yeah hotheads, let's go there.

Let me hit you with an existential grabby by the private kind of intellectual gambit that

is probably best posed by a collegiate stoner about to flunk out and open a bespoke hacky

sack shop called Babies Got Bags.

But, hi Degress, reality.

Seems easier all the time to splinter off into our own little worlds and stay there,

especially with the aid of technology.

I mean you've seen that episode of Black Mirror, or Westworld, or Tron Legacy, or Tron

Original, or that 80s Christopher Walkin' Torre de Force brainstorm?

Point is you've seen something.

So you know computers can suck us all in, scramble our brains and refuse to give us back.

This is where today's story comes in.

It's a piece about memory, fantasy, and a realm somewhere between the two, a place to

which we might escape for a price.

Let me give you our warning as we get started.

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