When Orwell wrote 1984, he wasn't expecting there to be simulation coastal
vistas, using meatspace avatars while glancing the view while on the wire.
And unlike like groups specialized towards sex education, in practice actual
sex education was surprisingly presient for the writer. And yet the thing
that hit the eighties and nineties was virtual reality, and then the world
wide web. But now we're already have the idea of quantum networks being
discussed, extending concepts of mass surveillance beyond what was concieved
of in the nineteen fourties. And the old public key systems were slowly
going the way of the dinosaur.
The classic game consoles have become the latest dinosaurs, with each latest
generation having their maximum development expectancy set around five years
at the most, aside from the few homebrew developers. I had given up game
development a long time ago, prefering the flow of text on the page. And yet
sometimes I miss the old days of loading the makers, and churning out demos
of games in my development bucket list. But now, my own bucket list is to
exist.
And my thoughts display on quantum holographic networks displaying the words
"to be or not to me, that is the question." My drifting in the world of
darkness, as if I was already dead.
ášⲞᑋⲰᑈⲤá‘â€Ã¢Â²Â¡Ã¡â€˜Å’â²®á‘Ââ² ᑋⳂá‘â€
I thought I heard a voice in the darkness, in what seemed like a digitized
version of an ancient language far older than the age of Egypt and Sumeria.
We had been walking through the tunnels for some time, when we find a
previously undiscovered room. The others thought of it as a get rich quick
scheme, finding spare parts to sell on the black market. Yet for me, I was
preoccupied by the statue that stood before us by the flatscreen computer
monitors. It had a vague semblance of Roman and Egyptian statues, except
that the garb looked to me from a previously unknown star farring
civilization, indicated by the appearance what seemed to be some ancient
space helmet. The computer rooms were built ontop of ancient Native
American temple, from a culture that was as old, if not older, than the
Inca.
-- Get a load of this lady.
-- Ain’t she a beauty?
-- I wonder how much this stature would be worth? And look, not a single
crack on it.
While the others were thinking of how much they could sell it for, there
was something about that gave off a sinister presence. I split from the
others into a seperate room. And just in time, as when one of them tried
to steal the monitors, a false door opened up a portal that unleashed
men with space helmets, and back attacking them with laser beams. My
friends told me to break for it, so I took my futon and left the scene
trusting their judgement, and my instincts to survive. And then suddenly
the room became silent. One of the men came out alive, but said that
they were all surrounded by armed guards from a different galaxy, and
that they let him live long enough to reveal to me a message.
-- Don't go to far down here, there are things which we were not
meant to see.
You might think that he almost died, but as best as I could, I nursed
him back to health. However his right arm continued to bruised for the
next few days after. I called Ravina.
-- Can you do me and a friend a favor?
-- What do you need?
-- Medical attention.
vistas, using meatspace avatars while glancing the view while on the wire.
And unlike like groups specialized towards sex education, in practice actual
sex education was surprisingly presient for the writer. And yet the thing
that hit the eighties and nineties was virtual reality, and then the world
wide web. But now we're already have the idea of quantum networks being
discussed, extending concepts of mass surveillance beyond what was concieved
of in the nineteen fourties. And the old public key systems were slowly
going the way of the dinosaur.
The classic game consoles have become the latest dinosaurs, with each latest
generation having their maximum development expectancy set around five years
at the most, aside from the few homebrew developers. I had given up game
development a long time ago, prefering the flow of text on the page. And yet
sometimes I miss the old days of loading the makers, and churning out demos
of games in my development bucket list. But now, my own bucket list is to
exist.
And my thoughts display on quantum holographic networks displaying the words
"to be or not to me, that is the question." My drifting in the world of
darkness, as if I was already dead.
ášⲞᑋⲰᑈⲤá‘â€Ã¢Â²Â¡Ã¡â€˜Å’â²®á‘Ââ² ᑋⳂá‘â€
I thought I heard a voice in the darkness, in what seemed like a digitized
version of an ancient language far older than the age of Egypt and Sumeria.
We had been walking through the tunnels for some time, when we find a
previously undiscovered room. The others thought of it as a get rich quick
scheme, finding spare parts to sell on the black market. Yet for me, I was
preoccupied by the statue that stood before us by the flatscreen computer
monitors. It had a vague semblance of Roman and Egyptian statues, except
that the garb looked to me from a previously unknown star farring
civilization, indicated by the appearance what seemed to be some ancient
space helmet. The computer rooms were built ontop of ancient Native
American temple, from a culture that was as old, if not older, than the
Inca.
-- Get a load of this lady.
-- Ain’t she a beauty?
-- I wonder how much this stature would be worth? And look, not a single
crack on it.
While the others were thinking of how much they could sell it for, there
was something about that gave off a sinister presence. I split from the
others into a seperate room. And just in time, as when one of them tried
to steal the monitors, a false door opened up a portal that unleashed
men with space helmets, and back attacking them with laser beams. My
friends told me to break for it, so I took my futon and left the scene
trusting their judgement, and my instincts to survive. And then suddenly
the room became silent. One of the men came out alive, but said that
they were all surrounded by armed guards from a different galaxy, and
that they let him live long enough to reveal to me a message.
-- Don't go to far down here, there are things which we were not
meant to see.
You might think that he almost died, but as best as I could, I nursed
him back to health. However his right arm continued to bruised for the
next few days after. I called Ravina.
-- Can you do me and a friend a favor?
-- What do you need?
-- Medical attention.
