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Going to See Myself

Date: 10-Jan-2012/9:56+3:00

Tags: , , , , ,

Characters: man, me, guy, labcoat guy

I was asking some dream characters who were showing me a high-tech world how they were using existing Internet/Wikipedia technologies to program databases.
man: "There are updates that are run, we still have access to it. But it's just a hodgepodge, an old archive."
me: "What do people use nowadays?"
man: (laughing) "People? People don't do programming anymore, there's no need for a human-accessible database of that nature. Mostly AIs, only a few people work with them and are admired enough to participate."
me: "Like who?"
He rambled on some names I didn't recognize, some programmer from Microsoft and people from other companies whose names I didn't recognize.
me: "Wouldn't AIs be interested in people like...um, oh I don't know, Ray Kurzweil or somebody?"
guy: "You would think that. And in some ways you might say he's perfect at talking about the kinds of things people like you are onto. But it really isn't so much about prediction with them."
me: "Well I seem to have a few followers. People here act like they know what I put on the Internet, though they can't respond. What am I considered?"
guy: "We're going so you can see yourself."
The elevator opened onto a floor that had another elevator and people standing by it. I immediately thought of the situation in "The Buried Brain Grid" and I tried to speak to mention it:
Unfortunately all I could manage was a mumble like "Brfdf Brndf Grrr", as my teeth appeared to fall out. The people in the room looked at me puzzled. I spat them into a bag that somehow appeared in my hand.
me: "Well see, it's a good example. If you can't understand me then you only get part of the picture, but when you see the picture later you'll realize which dream I was talking about."
The second elevator opened and more people stepped in. But all of a sudden I felt my tongue being pulled out of my head and it seemed to be made out of an electronic mishmash of wires...almost like wicker. The tongue stuck to the side of the elevator as if drawn by a powerful magnet, and no one seemed to take notice as I gesticulated wildly.
I couldn't move off the wall of the edge of the elevator. So I slid myself into what felt like I was standing physically in the same space as a man wearing a lab coat who was talking. It was like my tongue was pinned virtually through his neck. At this point people took notice and began inspecting to see what was going wrong, it drew a lot of attention as they poked at the tongue. They tugged on something in the center.
labcoat guy: "What the..what is that? I've never seen anything like that before."
An alarm started going off. I held up my hand and began to count down 5...4... People got a worried look on their faces.
man: "What are you counting down to?"
I responded with a shrug and a sigh. Had I been able to talk I would have said "this kind of thing happens to me all the time". There was a bad feeling I got from some of the earlier experiences, which was that I wasn't visiting some utopia after getting out of a limited lifestyle...rather I was infiltrating something even deeper and things were going to be bad no matter what.
So I began to sign-spell with my fingers. I began trying to spell out the phrase "I G-A-T-H-E-R S-O-M-E F-O-L-K-S H-A-V-E A P-R-O-B-L-E-M W-I-T-H S-L-A-V-E-R-Y." I didn't get very far and I hadn't quite figured out what my message was going to be, as I was pretty much trying to invent some kind of motivation for why I would be a walking bomb in a cryogenics unit.
My finger spelling caught the attention of the man, I think the same one who'd asked about the countdown.
man: "Are you...are you trying to signal us with letters using your hands?"
I nodded, and swiped my hand to indicate I was going to start over.
man: "Like... like three...?"
I shook my head no, because I thought he was thinking I was spelling the word "THREE" or trying to communicate a continuation of my earlier countdown. But he went on to say "D" which I interpreted as him asking if I was trying to make 3-D shapes in the air with my hand.
Waited this out a little while until I woke up.
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copy write %C:/0304-1020 {Met^(00C6)ducation}

The accounts written here are as true as I can manage. While the words are my own, they are not independent creative works of fiction —in any intentional way. Thus I do not consider the material to be protected by anything, other than that you'd have to be crazy to want to try and use it for genuine purposes (much less disingenuous ones!) But who's to say?