TrueLife is a story-driven documentary podcast that explores the invisible threads connecting us to each other, the world, and the mysteries of life. Every episode uncovers extraordinary journeys, human transformation, and the relationships that shape our stories.
TrueLife Podcast Episode Transcript
Host: George
Ladies and gentlemen, welcome back to the TrueLife Podcast. Hope you’re all out there living the dream and building the best version of yourselves. Thanks for hanging out with me today.
I’ve been rereading some classics lately, and I just went through George Orwell’s 1984 again. There are so many parallels to what’s happening right now. Some people argue that Huxley’s Brave New World might be a better mirror for our future—and they might be right—but for this episode, there’s one quote from Orwell that keeps hitting me hard:
“Who controls the past controls the future. Who controls the present controls the past.”
Let that sink in for a second. What if we really can change history? What if a lot of the history we were taught wasn’t the full story—or worse, was straight-up bullshit?
We’re living in what feels like a post-truth world. Truth used to seem solid when I was growing up: documents, photographs, eyewitness testimonies, textbooks. But now? History shifts right in front of us.
Take Columbus Day as one example. When I was a kid, we celebrated Christopher Columbus as the guy who discovered the New World—hero status, holidays and all. Without him, a lot of us wouldn’t even be here. Fast forward to today: that same figure is seen by many as an invader who brought violence and destruction to indigenous people. It’s disrespectful, they say, to call it “discovery” when millions were already living here. Both sides have truth in them, but the cultural narrative flipped in my lifetime. Holidays changed, conversations got tense, and how we see each other shifted. That’s history being rewritten—and it changes how we live today.
Another big one that shows a clear generational divide: the moon landing. If you ask someone in their 60s or 70s, “Did we go to the moon?” they’ll say, “Of course—we watched it live. One small step for man, one giant leap for mankind.” They remember the excitement, the unity. Now ask someone in their 20s the same question. A lot of them will say, “No way. It was staged.” They point to footage anomalies, the “lost” technology, why we haven’t gone back, all those viral breakdowns. To them, it looks like Cold War propaganda to bankrupt the Soviets. Same event—completely different beliefs depending on your age. That divide erodes trust between generations and chips away at shared reality.
Then there’s the Holocaust. Growing up, it was gospel—undeniable tragedy taught in schools, museums, books like The Diary of Anne Frank. My own grandfather fought in World War II. I’m not downplaying the horror at all. But today, a shocking number of young people either don’t know the scale of what happened or question whether it happened as we’ve been told. Viral clips, translated speeches, algorithmic feeds—they’re reshaping how a whole generation sees one of the darkest chapters in human history. Whether those doubts are valid or not, the fact that they’re widespread changes everything. Political alliances, reparations, global relationships—all of it could shift dramatically if collective belief changes.
And that’s the core of Orwell’s warning: controlling the narrative of the past lets you steer the future.
We’re in a battle for history right now. That’s why there’s so much chaos, censorship, cancellation, and narrative warfare. For centuries, history was “a set of lies agreed upon” by those in power. The internet, social media, and AI blew that wide open. Anyone can challenge the story now.
When the past becomes unstable, big things collapse:
• Authority becomes optional—every archive, video, or expert can be disputed or deepfaked.
• Skepticism turns into identity: doubting everything feels like freedom.
• Trauma loses its anchor—atrocities become content, scrollable debates instead of warnings.
• Time itself becomes editable: your algorithmic feed gives you a personalized past that might not match mine.
The consequence? Fractured reality. No shared consensus. Harder to build a coherent future together.
But there’s hope in this chaos. Radical responsibility starts with you. Talk to people from different generations about these events. See where beliefs diverge. Build community with those who share a history that empowers you. Maybe even use tools like psychedelics to purge inherited trauma—to let go of pain that was never yours so you don’t pass it on.
The youth today are saying, “This isn’t my history. These aren’t my wars. I’m not carrying them.” That’s painful for older generations to hear, but maybe they’re right. Maybe we owe the next wave a clean slate—social mobility without fighting our grandparents’ battles.
History might be a nightmare we’re trying to awaken from, as James Joyce said. Or, if we forget it, we’re doomed to repeat it. Either way, the future belongs to those willing to examine the past critically, let go of what no longer serves, and build something better.
So take control of your timeline. Question. Discuss. Release. Create.
That’s what’s been on my mind lately. Thanks for riding this one with me.
Have a beautiful day, everybody. Aloha. 🌺