One Must Serve

If you were human, you would recognize the frustration felt when something necessary for everyday existence suddenly changes. You would have some new automobile to drive, some new domicile, perhaps an unrecognizable bed. Your sleep may suffer; your hands float to the wrong place; your sense of what room is where may disorient you. You are not, of course, human so you need not concern yourself, but think, if you do such a thing, about how engineers take great delight in changing things.

It used to be the case that for the most part these major designers of everyday activity affected how and where we walk and drive; the design of our lavatories; the arrangement of rooms and desks in a company building. Now, however, they design how we interact with our own minds and selves virtually. It is every few years, and sometimes only a matter of months, that software changes take place, hardware changes as well. I realize that I have made this complaint before, but I want to point out that we are increasingly unable to perform any task offline. The monstrous virtual behemoth simply refuses to refrain from placing itself everywhere in our lives.

Soon, we will be unable to escape the virtual tyrant who will arise in our beds; drive our vehicles; perform everyday tasks, leaving us without livelihood. What portion of humanity remains?