by Novo Dé
“Sir please, if you don’t calm down, I’m going to have to call—”
“Fucking call them then. Wouldn’t that be great? Something new you could add to that stupid fucking tablet of yours. Maybe then you could finally figure me out. And then you could tell me all about it. And then you could fix me doc. And then I would be free from this fucking room. God, I hate, I hate this fucking room.”
Staring past the doctor now, I’m entranced by the prison of the white walls. I feel the boiling grow.
“So what is it doc? What the fuck is this!? Give me something. Give me anything! I need, I need to be free from this shit! Because I’m going fucking…I need…I have to get out of this fucking room doc. So just fucking push the next patient back or reschedule or whatever the fuck you need to do. Because I’m not fucking leaving befor…”
November 1st, 2051
The fantasy is always the same. The act however is always different. When I get lost in the fantasy, the world blurs behind the singularity of the idea. I become blind, deaf, lost in oblivion. Nothing else matters in that moment.
Daydreaming is what they used to call it.
It’s more like a day-mare to me nowadays. But unlike the version we all know at night, this one I’m very much attracted to. I keep finding myself going back to the same one in fact, over and over again. I’m not even sure when I started doing this, but one thing’s for sure; it’s become my new favorite drug.
I hear something now. Something back in reality. Can’t quite make it out.
“…balt, Tybalt. You in there?”
I blink, and after my eyes flutter a bit, I find myself back, back in reality, back to those beautiful blues I’ve known for so long.
“Yeah, um sorry, what’s up?” I say as I rub my eyes.
“I just need a little help with the groceries, you think you could…”
“Yeah, sure, of course,” I say with a smile.
As I follow her out to the car, I know what she’s going to say before she even says it. She can’t help but pry; it’s like this every time.
“So how’d it go today?”
I’m not sure what to say. Should I tell her the truth? Should I tell her about the outburst? About the security guards dragging me out of the room? About the scene I made as I was being escorted through the lobby, yelling obscenities and curses at the secretary and the clients that were patiently awaiting their appointment?
I should tell her the truth, but as she opens the trunk, and my mouth begins to open and my vocal cords begin to vibrate, something else comes out.
“Y’know, typical.”
“Just typical? Nothin’ new?”
I can feel her eyes on me. Sharp, like Cohen’s eyes.
“Yeah, umm, I mean, we did talk a little more than usual…” I say, as I think about telling Cohen to go fuck himself.
Grabbing the last of the groceries, I follow her back into the house, and as we pass the threshold, she turns back to me.
“So progress?”
I nod yes ever so slightly.
“Progress.”
It’s hard to believe that this has become the extent of our conversations. We used to have the most playful banter. We used to have the most deep rooted heart-to-hearts.
We used to actually talk.
Now everything’s small. Everything’s far away. I always feel like I’m talking to someone at some sort of window: most of the time I feel like I’m talking to someone at a drive-through window, like some fast-food joint, while other times, I have the luxury of having a conversation with that of someone like a bank teller. But it’s always the same. There’s always a window.
“So did you…”
She stops mid-thought, mid-sentence. When it happens, she always stops mid-thought, mid-sentence. It’s been like this ever since the operation. They said it would be like this in fact. A ‘simple side effect’ is what they called it. I don’t know what it is but one thing’s for sure, I don’t think I’ll ever get use to it. The worst part is that look on their face, or I guess, the lack thereof.
Everything grows cold. The eyes dead. Empty. The mouth, partially open. They become a corpse of their former self. That’s definitely the worst of it. I don’t think I’ll ever get use to that.
She’s starting to come to luckily; it never takes too long. She blinks, closes her mouth, and the color of roses begins to take over her cheeks once more.
“Sorry.”
“Update?”
“Update…” she says nodding, and then we simply continue on.
As I go through the motions of putting the groceries away, I find myself fading into deep thought. I tend to think of my wife in these moments. In fact, I’ve been toying with the same question for quite some time. I look at her and I say to myself – ‘How did it come to this?’
After people had the power to essentially have a computer in their pocket, communication and the social realms therein ran rampant. Some outcomes good, but mostly bad. Think about the pros and cons of something like bacteria, and you’ll get close to understanding it on some level.
People began to live their lives on their computer, on their phones, on the internet. People began to lose touch with how it was to be human.
But no one saw it that way. Slowly being integrated into society and thus culture, it just became a part of everyday life.
But people could never find contentment; Never any peace. Everyone always yearned for more.
And worse, the people behind the technology…always gave it to them, because let’s be honest, all they cared about is how to broaden their profit margins, and make people want more and more, pushing the limits before beginning the cycle again with some new product or update.
Until.
Well, until that historic day.
The day they had a breakthrough – realizing that access was the answer to their profit cycling problems.
Most of their returns were based on advertisements, but people didn’t see an advertisement unless they were actively engaging in the differing communication entities on their computing device.
Actively, meaning, when a neurological impulse sends a message to the muscular motor units that control movement in the fingers, allowing the use of touch to input data, which would result in some sort of output, and thus the advertisement. They realized that they needed to shorten this neurological trip. You increase the access, you increase the ability to advertise. Simple. So they took out the ‘middle man’ – Conscious thought.
It took some years of research and development, but it seemed all too soon that the market opened up a new landscape to computing devices that could be surgically implanted in the Thalamus of the brain. I’ll never forget the year that birthed, what was finally dubbed…the Neurological Communication Link.
Bottom line: The Neurological Communication Link was essentially a computer for your brain, a Smartphone to be used through the mind, which doesn’t sound too glamorous when I put it that way.
And I never thought it would really catch on too. Never thought I’d see my wife jump on board that’s for sure. But I was wrong.
The Neurological Communication Link, however, which people quickly began referring to as NCLs for short, needed an interface. To do so, the people behind the technology created an accompanying set of devices, known as Retinal Display Links, or RDLs for short, which were implanted into the retinas of each eye and allowed the user to access the navigational framework of the NCL.
Imagine a screen, much like any computing device screen. Now imagine that same screen as if it were floating right in front of your eyes. RDLs allowed the user to visually navigate through the system with their own use of sight, not only in a literal sense, but also anatomical.
For instance, given that the NCL and RDLs could communicate with each other in real time, instead of a swipe of a finger for input, the devices would interpret nervous and muscular tissue, specifically in regards to straight plane eye movement, up/down, left/right, as well as blinking
procedures for input. In the earlier models for example, for the words “Yes” and “No,” two, quick consecutive blinks would be utilized or a long blink would be held, respectively.
And with enough mastery, the eye gestures can become so subtle that it doesn’t even look like the eyes are moving at all. Unfortunately, not everyone has an equal mastery of this skill.
Now if a user didn’t like utilizing something like a computing device screen through their field of vision to navigate the applications, later dubbed the ‘Classic’ view, the NCL also allowed users to utilize different visual landscapes. Augmented Reality. Virtual Reality. It was all there.
In essence, the world was no longer at your finger tips; the eyes, in turn, officially became windows into the soul.
In the beginning, people really thought this would revolutionize human existence. At least that’s what the marketing campaigns led us to believe.
‘We need to keep up with the machines,’ they used to say. But it just took immediate satisfaction to a whole new level. I mean, even the pioneers of the internet thought it would a utopia of information, but of course, it ended up being a kingdom of porn, and endless opportunities for people to complain and shit-on literally everything, and everyone, in anonymity.
And sure, like any of the devices before it, it had its benefits, its strengths, at least in the short-term.
Forget something at the grocery store, a clothing store, access the appropriate NCL application and input your needs, input the data, pay the service charge, and within minutes, a drone would be on your doorstep.
Hell, you could do this with all your purchases, but that shit'll add up, and it adds up quick. That’s why people, like my wife, still go the grocery store, considered a little old-fashioned now.
Want to read about the news in real time? Need a digital dietician? Fitness Instructor? Want a tutorial on parasailing? Need to automatically wish that relative we always neglect a happy birthday? Need to setup an appointment? Cancel one?
Everything was now part of a new network, that from the outside, just looked like a small black dot, about the size of a button of a shirt, that simply sat at the right temple of the forehead, which ultimately acted as a toggling switch that powered the ‘Link’ on and off.
Now what people didn’t know, was the dark side to this innocent black dot. People quickly forgot (again) about one very important detail. When utilizing the NCL, everything, and I do mean everything, was recorded, resulting in what seemed like an endless stream of collected data. Every choice. Every action.
And sure, Conscious thought was still the main driving mechanism to power and navigate the NCL. It was still a computer. But here’s the thing – not only was conscious input being uploaded as data, but the subconscious as well.
Remember me talking about access.
It turned out to be that it was the subconscious input that was the main entity toggling the advertisements, which surprised people at first, but no one reads the fucking terms and conditions, for really, anything. But that was the point. Access.
Output for the subconscious data was mostly harmless, generic, neutral, but usually positive rhetoric: Mr. Smith likes this or Mrs. Jackson likes that. Which everyone was pretty use to at this point in the game, considered now a bit old-fashioned as well. And it was just automatically uploaded, usually resulting in a vicious cycle of additional advertisements.
Don’t worry, people are allowed to control the output to an extent with a preference template. But do people utilize it? Not really. The better question is…Do people have any real control in the first place?
By now, most people already knew, regardless of where any of the data comes from, that it’s all used, all organized, analyzed, and interpreted by the powers that be, easily processed to rebrand a new shoe or change the PR needs of the new ‘it’ girl, overall the uses of the data being pretty straightforward.
Well what about the shit that people didn’t like? That data would be collected and organized just the same, and then purchased by any entity that could profit or somehow simply benefit from the knowledge, be it a corporation, a small company, or even a person.
Conversely, a real milestone, was dream-based marketing.
Why rely on conscious and subconscious thought, when you can market your item or idea directly into the landscape of someone’s dream. It was the ultimate in subliminal messaging. And it was actually all fair game, because again, no one reads the fucking terms and conditions, for really, anything.
It was the inception, the implanting a need of the item or idea in the person that was illegal. But they still fucking did that too.
For instance, after a month with the NCL, my wife began to incorporate mushrooms into all our meals. Said it would bring some much needed nutritional value into our diet. My wife fucking hates mushrooms, at least she did before the surgery. Couldn’t even look at them. Thought their aesthetic alone was unsettling. But here’s the genius behind the implant, which equally makes it impossible to prove, it wears off after a while. And with every idea having a different half-life, it makes this new found desire just seem random. Like ‘people change,’ followed by a shrug of the shoulders.
But people didn’t really change much these days; they’re all more or less programmed it seems.
Now let’s not forget about conscious input.
People continued to ramble on about their boring, mundane lives like they mattered, or someone actually cared. But no one really gives a shit about what someone has for breakfast. Or your fucking toddler. Or a dog or cat or whatever, that is surely the smartest fucking dog or cat or whatever. Except for the person doing the uploading. Everyone wants to feel like they’re the center of the universe.
It’s a real Protagonist disease.
And now they can, with the NCL.
But of course all that conscious input came at a price – in the figurative sense and the literal. With enough data, our every movement, behavior, and action could be tracked and categorized, and then with the right coding, the future of every movement, behavior, and action could be anticipated, a preemptive estimation with extreme accuracy.
A real minority report.
Simply put, all this data was used to create an exact digital blueprint of any individual willing to participate, and by willing to participate, I mean simply use the NCL, and it was indeed exact, from day-to-day routines, all the way to favorite go-to sexual positions.
Digital Representation Imaging is what they called it.
Unfortunately, DRIs were not exclusive to the NCL. Big data tracked everything: credit card transactions, GPS, browser history, exchanges with CHARLIE, fucking everything. Even someone like me, who really tried hard to stay off the grid, had a Digital Representation Image. It was impossible to avoid.
Now the first real entity to capitalize on DRIs was of course the pharmaceutical companies.
DRIs analyze all physical and mental changes in real time. They’ll know something about you before you do. Before it ever hits home.
Depression. Elation. Anxiety. Excitement. They’ll always know before you know. And with that information, they always have an answer for what you may need next. And be ready to sell it to you.
And you become a prisoner to the machine. Of the cycles. Of your own behavior.
That’s why I’m one of the few that hasn’t converted to using an NCL. Not yet at least.
I want to be the one in control.
But it didn’t take too long for other entities to begin to take advantage as well, especially law enforcement. Track a criminal profile DRI, pay attention to GPS positioning, and these fucking idiots would do the work for them.
So sure, in the beginning, crime dropped exponentially. But no algorithmic system is perfect. It happened rarely, but there would be innocent people that would get wrongfully arrested from time to time.
A real minority report.
Now for this one, people actually began to take notice. It even created a new psychological framewo
rk of fear. People feared that if they got out of line, even just a little bit, that a police officer would be waiting for them at their doorstep or around the corner or something to that effect. That there would always be some sort of trouble waiting for them just out of sight.
Fuckin’ thought police is what it was.
Perfectionistism took on a whole new meaning after that. And with enough fear instilled in regular, law-abiding citizens, law enforcement never really had to make much arrests.
Never thought it would actually get to this point – Big brother was no longer watching – we all had become big brother.
And as all of this is going on, people still turn the other cheek, or are oblivious, or are simply in denial. I have no idea which one my wife is, but she too is now part of this new network.
The Neo-Network is what they call it.
Like most other people, strangers, you’ll never know what world they’ve put themselves in, y’know, from afar. I mean the only normal people in the world, are the people you don’t know yet right?
Sometimes I feel like I don’t even know my wife anymore. Looking at my wife at this very moment, I feel that way. We’ve already put all the groceries away, completed all our nightly chores, and now my wife is performing her evening ritual: she’s found herself at the corner of the couch, snuggled, cozy, glass of chardonnay in hand, and a book, again a bit old-fashioned these days.
From the outside, she’s just there. Living. Simple. Nothing different. But on the inside, everything’s changed.
I try to find something to converse about. I try to talk. It seems like we do this every evening, at least to me it does.
“Honey, umm, do you mind if I turn on the news? I heard there may be a new development on that radical religious movement thing and wanted to ah…”
She doesn’t even look up to answer.
“Sure, just keep it low ok,” she says with a soft, peaceful tone.
“Yeah sure, of course,” I reply as I reach for my phone. I then activate our house’s CHARLIE.