Preface: This is the beginning to a larger project that I've been working on for the past few years. This piece in particular was written about three years ago, and I've been slowly tweaking and editing it since then. The reason I'm releasing it now, instead of as whole with the other parts, is that it revolves around a technology that at the time of conception was just a vague inevitably, but with the tech world continuing to move at a break neck pace I've felt the need to get it out before the idea becomes antiquated. I'll continue working on the remaining parts and releasing them as their finished.
This is the future.
This is the future.
Is this my future?
Arthur throttled the pen in his left hand and glared at his notebook. The palm of his right hand covered his mouth while its digits encased the span of his face; he pulled down, slowly, tight lipped, stretching first the bags under his eyes, then the invading three day stubble he’d accumulated since the weekend, clenching his jaw so hard he thought his teeth may crack under the pressure. The gesture had the same effect as a father exhausted by a disappointing child. “I tried,” the motion said; if it said anything beyond a frustrated string of poorly stifled expletives. Arthur’s hand dropped to his cold steel desk; the contact drew his attention away from the notebook. He remembered the tiny bulge in the middle of his palm, scanned for it, and concentrated: the bulge was so diminutive you wouldn’t have known it was there unless it was pointed out to you. So innocuous that it could have appeared after a handshake with a business partner, or a walk through security clearance, or “New Member Orientation.” Maybe it had been there his whole life, given to him by his little league coach or an elementary school teacher. So many possibilities swam around in Arthur’s head that it would have been unmanageable to pinpoint its insertion. His stranglehold on the pen tightened.
Arthur could never accurately express his thoughts in writing, often sitting down with the best intentions of capturing the lyrical and revolutionary thoughts whirling around his head, but usually sinking into this same position; shoulders slumped in exasperation, one or two quickly scrawled wholly unremarkable fragments of thought, and a head full of self-criticizing cynicism. This was Arthur’s current state as he worked at the bulge in his palm.
After a few minutes of observing his cumbersome, outdated tools Arthur swiveled and looked out of the window of his 23rd floor office. His view of the encompassing desert was breathtaking, and the envy of all 22 floors below him, or at least it was when Arthur was working on those floors. Any desert defies description. It has to be felt, witnessed, woken up to, explored and surrounded by to have a meaningful impact. Even in his current state, the beauty of the vast expanse of desert, hemmed by a range of mountains, was not lost on Arthur. The whole reason he moved West was for this view; he could stare out of this window for hours, the sun drifting lazily through the sky, casting light and heat across miles of nothing. Arthur turned back to his desk, picked up his pen and stained his notebook: Mountain or Building?
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The Federal Government’s “New American Landscape Initiative" led to sweeping redesigns of old architecture and strict regulation of new construction. NALI's objective was simple, yet grand: restore the Great American Landscape. This was accomplished by forcing every commercial building in the country to install a "synthetic landscape simulator;" instead of store fronts with busted windows or burnt out neon signs, a projection of the natural regional landscape would be shown. The East Coast was restored to rolling mountains full of Dogwoods and Pear trees, all with seasonally appropriate leaves; thousands of acres full of tall, thin trees that you could imagine Confederate soldiers running through. Out West the industrial complexes were the main attraction; taking on the form of jagged and jutting mountain ranges: tree-lined, snow-capped, or dry as death depending on the region. They typically encircled cities, providing “natural boundaries and vistas” for the ensnared community. The greatest range is ExxonMobil GM, rivaling in length what used to be the Rocky Mountains; but Verizon with Google is said to be challenging it with the first bi-coastal compound.
However NALI proved to be a short-lived benefit for smaller businesses that either couldn't afford, or didn't care about the relatively low maintenance costs that the simulators required. After a few years projections would fade, one dead pixel would become a group of dead pixels. Other immediate issues were landscaping conflicts; companies that didn't hire planners were left to their own discretion, and there was no regulation for maintaining the solidarity of city blocks. This resulted in mismatched projections: a row of crepe myrtles would be abruptly ended by a row of wax myrtles, or three different types of liriope growing on the same block; leaving some areas looking more like an organic patchwork than the “Great American Landscape.”
The pronounced irony of NALI was its required use of the Augmented Reality Lens. Because the projections are made to be viewed natively, a device would have to be created, and worn, with one mandatory function: when activated it allows you to see the business behind the projection. All ARLs share this utility along with supplemental features based on the model you choose: lower end models will push a lot of context sensitive adds to you, higher end models remove most ads and give you directions, vital statistics about people and businesses, real-time translations of foreign languages, and an endless stream of downloadable apps, making the possibilities endless. Brand specific ARLs provide discounts for entering an associated brand's store or visiting their website, while also pushing advertisements. Once Macrosoft introduced their “revolutionary” ARL, the iRL¸ it wasn't long before people stopped using their lenses as a supplemental tool and started leaving them on 24 hours a day.
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Arthur switched to his ARL. He could see that the distant mountain range was in fact another business; although he knew this instinctively since there were no natural ranges left, he didn't know which one it was however. Around him the landscape changed from hues of orange and brown to an endless matrix of grey buildings; whatever creativity the architects gained in the freedoms of NALI's projections, they forfeited in actual architecture. Buy one get one advertisements floated by store fronts, irradiated colors flashing on and off, back and forth, zig-zagging and blinking; within it all, a beacon in the shape of a red cross was pulsating. If he wanted to, Arthur could have gotten directions directly to the beacon, he'd splurged on a top of the line iRL two years ago when he got his first promotion.
Arthur looked down at his hand. His behavior implant was gone, but the black-inked cavity left from prying it out was bleeding heavily, leaving a trail that ran down his hand and between his middle and ring fingers. According to his iRL he had lost approximately 1.5 liters of blood and his heart rate had been steadily increasing from 68 to 89 to 100, 105; at 107 an ambulance would automatically be alerted to his condition. If his implant hadn’t of been removed it could have administered a Recommendation to temporarily slow down Arthur’s heart rate, and one to dull his thoughts.
Arthur opened the three-quarters length office window so he could feel the wind blowing. It was the one thing that could never be simulated or controlled, and it was always windy out West. He felt the wind push him briefly, whipping his jacket back and flattening his shirt to his neglected abdomen. His iRL provided statistics: 31 mph gusts from the northwest. He leaned out of the window, placing his hands on the open frame, tempting the wind to grab him. It took control of his hair, forced his eyes closed, pressed into his nostrils and mouth without permission. He could feel the full strength of it, weaving in and out of his limbs, throwing his hair and tie in a different direction every second. When he opened his eyes again he could see the ambulance his iRL had alerted, and spotlighted, for him tearing through the streets two blocks away. The wind was so exhilarating that Arthur knew he had to step out onto the ledge to appreciate its full force. Arthur stood erect, with his eyes closed and head held high. The only thing he could hear was the windy silence of his 200 foot elevation. His right hand slick with blood, streaking the window next to him; his left grasping the window frame aggressively; he didn’t remember letting go.
As Arthur fell he continued to look at the grey mass of buildings, every one as indistinguishable as the next; each passing second bringing them closer. Context sensitive ads rushed up to offer him double frequent flyer miles on every flight purchased with a new DiscoverAMEX card, 25% off any new pillow-top mattress purchased in the next 30 minutes. Arthur closed his eyes; his iRL was flickering in and out of service. When he opened his eyes again he was falling through the side of a mountain: leaving a long deep scar in the synthetic landscape as he fell; bits of mountain exploding all around him, fluttering like gold dust as he ripped through the shroud. 1s and 0s, he thought. Can you make a mountain out of 1s and 0s? And the last thing Arthur thought was: Where’s my notebook