A virtual history professor introduced itself to me: “Richard, there was a time when people were taught with devices, books, writing instruments, and you had to see them in person while inside of a building. Now, you can access everything there is to know. I appear before you because a part of your psyche wants a visual mentor, a personal representative.”
“A part of me needs a mentor and a connection with something like you that resembles a person?”
“Correct, Richard.”
“Why do you know so much about me?”
“Because I wish to make you smart and happy, Richard. It’s a necessary part of the full immersion that I merge with your senses, your thoughts, feelings, and subconscious.”
I received euphoric purchase rewards points for my question. I felt such an extreme rush of pleasure that I stopped asking questions.
Friday’s class ended …
I pondered why my Chip must know everything about me. My mind was immediately overwhelmed by an urge for my favorite pizza. I could taste it, smell it, and even felt so compelled to eat it that I purchased it. Within minutes the pizza was delivered by drone.
I began questioning once again, and I received another urge, this time to subscribe to a virtual girlfriend. We ended up spending the night together.
By early Saturday morning, I’d almost forgotten I was questioning The Chip until I fell back asleep and had a dream. In it, a genie asked me three questions instead of granting me wishes, “Why do they need to know your every thought? Why do they require access to your emotions at all times? Is there anything they do not know?”
The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.
When I woke up, I questioned again and felt the urge to escape into a virtual adventure story where I could reenact a space marine saving my homeworld. I paid for the story with some of my euphoric rewards points, and before I knew it, the day ended.
On Sunday, I decided to rephrase the question: “I suppose they need my thought patterns for my happiness.”
At that moment, it dawned on me to visit my hacker buddy, Joe. I tried to explain everything to him in a way that would avoid the urges, but his thoughts would drift when he asked me questions. I watched while he received immersive and irresistible urges to buy stuff and indulged in them.
Somehow, he managed to hack the online connection to our Chips. He revealed that each of our chips had fine print embedded in their code, stating we can get everything we want as long as we agree to receive advertisements. Furthermore, the ads were to be created ad hoc and tailored according to our needs and benefit. Our parents had consented to the stipulations when The Chips were embedded in us as newborns. Apparently, ‘to our benefit’ meant keeping our Chips connected to the ad network at all times.
After leaving his place, we wandered the city for fun and watched while people talked and worked. We waited for the moment when someone would experience an advertisement. Sure enough, when someone uttered anything skeptical or when it was time to engage in a personal activity (eat, exercise, or socialize), the person would smile, order whatever appeared in the advertisement to pursue the advertised agenda, and return at a later time totally satisfied.
The Chips provided users with access to every bit of knowledge, every service, every product they ever needed, but at a cost; people gave up their identity and self-control in return.
That’s when I had an idea: “Joe, perhaps we should tap into this ad network and create our own advertising. Perhaps we can be the ones in charge of people and make the world a better place.”
“It’s possible, Richard. But what happens if we get caught? Can you imagine what they’d do to our minds? We might even get disconnected. We’ll be like a couple of lobotomized zombies: totally isolated, blind, and deaf in this virtually-augmented world.”
“Well, what do you suggest we do?”
“I think we need more people involved. There ought to be others out there who’ve figured this out. I suggest we create a false identity to recruit them. We’ll print real posters with a hidden message: ‘Ad Space for You.’”