It cost a lot,
Too much,
In fact,
But the power behind the screen, Continue reading
I am a tech-head,
A person who knows a device,
A person who works with computers,
And makes them do my bidding, Continue reading
When the internet is down,
We can’t connect,
To the infinite information,
The swirling of the net,
The cobwebs of our brains,
Blasted free digitally, Continue reading
Can you stand,
Watching that tiny circle spin?
Does it not fill your head,
With crackling? Continue reading
By means of digital software,
Technology beyond my own existence,
Things that are and will be going forward,
I make my life under my control,
But not my worry. Continue reading
One finger on the pulse,
Another on the nerve,
No body parts here,
No,
But the pulse of the world served,
Multi-tasking across brainwaves,
Clicking motions paired with saves, Continue reading
You don’t realize,
How much you need it,
Until the internet goes out—
And won’t come back,
No matter what you try.
Everything turns off—
Everything stops. Continue reading
I’d like to think that I’m a fairly smart person who is capable of solving issues with a cool and calm demeanor. I’d like to think that, but, that does not account for when I’m faced with a technology problem. Continue reading
Sit there,
In this red room,
By screen light,
Double strewn,
Blinking monitors,
And data sped outwards, Continue reading
“Nah, dude, it’s wicked.”
“I don’t know, man. It sounds very sketch to me.”
“Dude, dude, I can see through clothing. I can listen to a conversation a hundred feet away from me. It’s wicked.”
“You keep using that old, old slang, dude.”
“It’s the right word for it. I am not myself—I am better than myself. I am so much more than a person—a human—could have been in any time before now. That is incredible, by itself, dude.”
“You keep saying that it makes you so special. Explain that shit to me.” Continue reading
I like to automate. When I hit a problem with timing or effort, the question becomes: “Can I automate that? Can I make technology do that for me?” I am a transhumanist: it’s not odd I think that way, but what is funny is how often the answer is a resounding YES to those questions.
I guess the world is catching up to the proposed futures of the past. Smart plugs make my light turn on by my schedule. My scale records my weight for me. If I can make something give alerts or similar when events occur, then I am all for it.
Now, you might call me lazy. You might call me spoiled. You’re right on the first one, possibly right on the second. After all, I am a white male, cis-gendered, heterosexual living in America (also a little left-leaning, if you could not tell from that tongue twister), so I get access to some of the best stuff in the world—and I can get it delivered to my door.
And that’s spoiled.
That’s lazy. Continue reading
Who said having in-depth knowledge of something is a necessary step to talking about it? And, yes, that’s satire, but, even if it makes me hypocritical, I’m doing it anyway. Because, it’s a new year, and the technological singularity is a thing that exists and will only exist more: so, I figured I’d go and tally up some technological innovations I expect to come into a more prominent place this year of 2018. Continue reading
Oh, a writer likes caffeine. Oh, big shock. Yeah, that’s not the issue: it’s that I didn’t always like coffee—and, in fact, I consider coffee to be emblematic of a deep issue with modern society. Continue reading
I’ve experienced many art forms that present all the bad ways technology will fuck us up, kill us all, or enslave mankind.
And, yet, even though I’ve seen all of this, even though I can perceive how we might annihilate our planet, I am weirdly optimistic about the future. Continue reading
Westin did not recognize where he was. The walls of silver, and the floor of deep magenta, and the uniform screens of solid yellow dotting the walls, all did not match any familiar location.
And, adding to the issue, sitting up proved to be quarrelsome. His feet would not function, and it was only with some serious effort across his stomach, and a flailing, pushing motion of his hands, that he did rise and sit. Continue reading
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