When we learned to speak through radio waves, we forgot how to speak through our eyes. When we learned how to arrive places digitally, we forgot to arrive to them physically.
And when we learned to love by remote…
Jackson Rhuber was like most people. He had a job, a family, and an extensive network of friends and acquaintances. Today on his birthday he received an endless stream of messages from everyone he knew wishing him well. While he went for a relaxing hike in the gentle hills of the Appalachians, he received each message directly to his mind and responded to it in an instant. His wetware brain was seamlessly integrated with a metalware electronic one. The bone plates of the human skull serve the purpose of protecting the squishy brain beneath, but the task can be done just as well by titanium alloys with integrated circuitry. Then the space that was just a bony plate tasked with a single goal can also serve the function of processing. Jackson, like everyone who could afford it, had replaced his bony single purpose skull with a more dynamic and effective cybernetic one.
He, and everyone he knew, was able to send a missive to each other with just a thought. At the speed of light it would travel around the world through the meshnet and be instantly read, acknowledged and responded to. The metalware side of Jackson’s brain processed everything that was formulaic, saving his wetware side to be creative or indulge itself in experiences of the physical world. At that very moment he was at work, doing his job. But also quietly strolling through pine and oak trees, crunching recently fallen leaves underfoot in the autumn afternoon. Such was the privilege of the future. Not just working from home, but working from your head. You could go anywhere, be doing anything, and yet the whole time you could be working. True human multitasking. Anything uncomfortable or particularly tiresome would slowly become the domain of the metalware, trained by your thoughts to respond how you would… but more efficiently, and aware of the mistakes you want to avoid. Do you often forget to include relevant details in messages to people? Your metalware will keep track and correct it. Do you have a propensity for over eloquentizing your missives to the point of obfuscating your message? Your metalware will get to the point. But every message will still have your personality, your particular voice to it. It is you, just an expanded and improved you.
For Jackson, his birthday was the most isolating day of the year. More than a thousand people wished him well throughout the day, sending greeting to him from all corners of the world. And he thanked them profusely and individually. But it was all automatic to him. It barely registered to him while he carefully picked his way through some moss covered rocks and perched at the top. He knew that most of the messages were automatically generated by the metalware of other people, that they had intellectually known to send him a message and determined what it should sound like. But that none of them felt a need to send him a greeting. They were reminded by their calendars, they crafted a note, maybe included a picture or short generated video, and away it went. Jackson heard the rushing of water from the nearby river. He cut through a stand of birch trees following the sound. He was far enough from the city that the crisply flowing river was the only sound besides the hum of bird calls and insect activity. He could just enjoy nature and the feel of a breeze. He sat down and watched leaves glide on the surface of the water down the river, get caught in an eddy and eventually escape. He was so alone. With all of those people messaging him, he was still alone. Damn the technology that cut him off like this. Damn that he felt so pushed aside by his own mind.
But then it dawned on him. He was alone. It hadn’t been the technology that did it. It was him. He was walking through the woods isolated because HE had chosen to do that. That when he was freed from a pattern where he had to see people, he had chosen solitude. His metalware just did what he made it do, and did it effectively. He had pushed people away, and it just let him. He threw a stick into the river and got up. Walking back the way he came, he broke into a run. Ducking beneath branches, scrambling over logs. He was pissed at himself. Technology hadn’t done a thing to him. It just him better at making mistakes. But he realized now. He thought of all the people he wished he could see, to really see in person to connect with properly. Each thought bringing an image of them to mind in his metalware mind.
The sun had already started going down when Jackson burst in through the door to his home. He was out of breath and bent over as he turned on the light, putting his hands on his knees to support himself. Before he could stand he heard movement. The lights in the whole house went on and a dozen people came rushing towards him. His wife, his children, his best friends, old friends he hadn’t seen in years. People who had always been nearby but that he hadn’t physically touched in years, but always been in automated contact.
“SURPRISE!” they shouted at him, while tears welled up in his eyes. He didn’t say anything, he didn’t think anything. He just felt. And he embraced his family and held them close. He didn’t need to say anything. His smile said it all.
When we learned to speak through radio waves, we forgot how to speak through our eyes. When we learned how to arrive places digitally, we forgot to arrive to them physically.
And when we learned to love by remote… we remembered that we make the choices.
And when we learned to love by remote…
Jackson Rhuber was like most people. He had a job, a family, and an extensive network of friends and acquaintances. Today on his birthday he received an endless stream of messages from everyone he knew wishing him well. While he went for a relaxing hike in the gentle hills of the Appalachians, he received each message directly to his mind and responded to it in an instant. His wetware brain was seamlessly integrated with a metalware electronic one. The bone plates of the human skull serve the purpose of protecting the squishy brain beneath, but the task can be done just as well by titanium alloys with integrated circuitry. Then the space that was just a bony plate tasked with a single goal can also serve the function of processing. Jackson, like everyone who could afford it, had replaced his bony single purpose skull with a more dynamic and effective cybernetic one.
He, and everyone he knew, was able to send a missive to each other with just a thought. At the speed of light it would travel around the world through the meshnet and be instantly read, acknowledged and responded to. The metalware side of Jackson’s brain processed everything that was formulaic, saving his wetware side to be creative or indulge itself in experiences of the physical world. At that very moment he was at work, doing his job. But also quietly strolling through pine and oak trees, crunching recently fallen leaves underfoot in the autumn afternoon. Such was the privilege of the future. Not just working from home, but working from your head. You could go anywhere, be doing anything, and yet the whole time you could be working. True human multitasking. Anything uncomfortable or particularly tiresome would slowly become the domain of the metalware, trained by your thoughts to respond how you would… but more efficiently, and aware of the mistakes you want to avoid. Do you often forget to include relevant details in messages to people? Your metalware will keep track and correct it. Do you have a propensity for over eloquentizing your missives to the point of obfuscating your message? Your metalware will get to the point. But every message will still have your personality, your particular voice to it. It is you, just an expanded and improved you.
For Jackson, his birthday was the most isolating day of the year. More than a thousand people wished him well throughout the day, sending greeting to him from all corners of the world. And he thanked them profusely and individually. But it was all automatic to him. It barely registered to him while he carefully picked his way through some moss covered rocks and perched at the top. He knew that most of the messages were automatically generated by the metalware of other people, that they had intellectually known to send him a message and determined what it should sound like. But that none of them felt a need to send him a greeting. They were reminded by their calendars, they crafted a note, maybe included a picture or short generated video, and away it went. Jackson heard the rushing of water from the nearby river. He cut through a stand of birch trees following the sound. He was far enough from the city that the crisply flowing river was the only sound besides the hum of bird calls and insect activity. He could just enjoy nature and the feel of a breeze. He sat down and watched leaves glide on the surface of the water down the river, get caught in an eddy and eventually escape. He was so alone. With all of those people messaging him, he was still alone. Damn the technology that cut him off like this. Damn that he felt so pushed aside by his own mind.
But then it dawned on him. He was alone. It hadn’t been the technology that did it. It was him. He was walking through the woods isolated because HE had chosen to do that. That when he was freed from a pattern where he had to see people, he had chosen solitude. His metalware just did what he made it do, and did it effectively. He had pushed people away, and it just let him. He threw a stick into the river and got up. Walking back the way he came, he broke into a run. Ducking beneath branches, scrambling over logs. He was pissed at himself. Technology hadn’t done a thing to him. It just him better at making mistakes. But he realized now. He thought of all the people he wished he could see, to really see in person to connect with properly. Each thought bringing an image of them to mind in his metalware mind.
The sun had already started going down when Jackson burst in through the door to his home. He was out of breath and bent over as he turned on the light, putting his hands on his knees to support himself. Before he could stand he heard movement. The lights in the whole house went on and a dozen people came rushing towards him. His wife, his children, his best friends, old friends he hadn’t seen in years. People who had always been nearby but that he hadn’t physically touched in years, but always been in automated contact.
“SURPRISE!” they shouted at him, while tears welled up in his eyes. He didn’t say anything, he didn’t think anything. He just felt. And he embraced his family and held them close. He didn’t need to say anything. His smile said it all.
When we learned to speak through radio waves, we forgot how to speak through our eyes. When we learned how to arrive places digitally, we forgot to arrive to them physically.
And when we learned to love by remote… we remembered that we make the choices.
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