Suddenly everything starts to make sense: we are living in a video game. Elon Musk, part Silicon Valley billionaire genius, part cartoon super-villain, said as much a month or two ago. Musk, who founded the Tesla electric car phenomenon and has other side-projects like colonising Mars, reckons there is a "billion to one chance that we're living in a base reality". Given the extraordinary advances in the sophistication of computer gaming over the last few decades, he says, it was all but inevitable that in just a few more decades "the games will become indistinguishable from reality". And if so, why would we think we weren't some kind of synthetic universe ourselves, someone else's experiment?
I am happy to admit that my attraction to this idea may be exacerbated by a recent diet of quasi-legal cold remedies and the phantasmagoria of the film festival. But it's not just me, is it? It seems as though just about everyone is walking the streets in a daze. Many of them are hunting Pokemon, I'll give you that, but the rest of us are trying to process 2016's psychedelic carousel of news.
Whether it's a quirk in the coding, a glitch in the matrix or an act of mischief by one of the bored aliens running our simulated world, some kind of switch has been flicked. According to one theory doing the rounds, it was only when David Bowie died early in the year that we realised it was him holding the universe together. The unravelling, in the Anglosphere especially, has been staggering: Donald Trump, a multifarious shuffling off this mortal coil, led by Muhummad Ali and Prince, bonkers pre-Brexit Britain, rife indiscriminate killings, Donald Trump, bonkers post-Brexit Britain, culture wars, class wars, actual wars, Donald Trump.
Boris Johnson appointed Britain's new foreign secretary. Seriously. The Brexitalidocious former London mayor and human bouncy castle has insulted so many of the countries in the world that even those he hasn't insulted feel insulted for having not been insulted. There was something reassuring about the boringness of the Australian election, but that, too, turned into a cliffhanger. I've been watching the Danish political TV drama Borgen to escape from the much stranger real world of politics: the last episode centred on the thorny predicament of whom to appoint as the Danish EU commissioner. Soothing as a warm bath.