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How To Survive
The Machine Age
Introduction
Think of the last time you woke up.
How did your day approach you?
Did you see a landscape growing vaster with every step?
Day 1, 2024
07:00–08:00
Eloise Edmonton wakes a moment before the birds of her alarm begin to chirp. She snoozes the alarm before it starts. She still has plenty of time to go to the gym before work. She begins to scroll through Instagram. The alarm chimes and she snoozes it for the 4th time. All of the influencers on beaches make her realize she doesn’t have the right outfits for Saint Tropez. As she continues to scroll, anxieties pile up like the heap of laundry waiting to be done.
Richard Brent wakes up at the same time he always does. He rolls off his bed, unrolls the yoga mat and syncs his iPhone with the bluetooth speakers. He selects the liminal sounds of Sigur Ros and begins to flow.
08:00–09:00
Ellie rushes to her train, chucks half a matcha and squishes into a carriage with the masses flowing swiftly to the centre of the town.
Richard enjoys an açaí bowl with granola, an organic Ecuadorian banana and a coffee substitute. He checks the online sales of his foldable yoga guide. He creates a new instagram post reminding his followers: #realfoodheals.
09:00–12:00
Now again at work, Ellie opens up her email and gets down to some actual work.
She checks health equipment manuals no-one ever reads for typographical errors.
Her co–worker, Bridget hovers around her and together they go to the coffee machine.
Ruby joins them. The conversation turns to prospective mates and the state of the the male population. The trio are dating online and are perturbed by seeing so many unsolicited penis pictures.
"These men don’t need to go to the park in a trench coat anymore", comments Ruby wryly.
Richard spends time on instagram stalking his ex. The new fellow isn’t fit, a bit unshapely.
He’s got a dog though.
"I should have got her the dog.", thinks Richard.
12:00–13:00
Ellie orders from the local soup and sandwich shop and eats her lunch at her desk. Her left screen shows manuals, her right screen is a shared, well tended Pinterest board of gorgeous mountain retreats.
Richard does an online coaching session helping a woman in Arizona through her breathing techniques. He assures her that she is definitely improving.
During their several months working together she hasn’t improved at all. Not even a little bit.
13:00–17:00
Ellie answers emails. On her desk stands a photo of Leon and herself posing below an incredible arch in Canyonlands. That memory of that college road trip and Leon's silly hats brings a smile. She must message him soon.
She takes a coffee break.
Richard skips down to his favourite organic bar and designs a smoothie for himself. He munches some rice and vegetables, locked in his phone, talking to none. Walking back to his apartment he plans the new structure his online wellness course will take. He decides to spend the afternoon recording the first lesson. All afternoon he is agitated by ballooning thoughts of how his instagram could improve.
17:00–19:00
Back at her flat, Ellie cooks a ready meal and watches “The Crown” on Netflix. Going back to the city for a date seems like a drag
Richard walks to his dojo and spends time perfecting Aikido techniques he has been working on for years. Each move is simple yet its perfect simplicity escapes from him the more he focuses upon it. He leaves frustrated.
19:00–23:00
Eloise reads this week’s book-club book. She loves to read. Time stops and life is suspended. Weeks and years pass by in the lives of the characters as she sits on the sofa.
Richard prepares a probiotic meal based on soy products and legumes that he enjoys but requires some time to adjust to the flavour. He reads an online version of the New York Times and falls asleep satisfied that he is informed and healthy.
3:00–07:00
Eloise dreams.
She is under the seats at a grand theatre. The play takes place on multiple stages floating around her, great stone gods and monsters beat on the platforms in a cartoonish way. She dreams Leon is under the stalls with her. Like children they crawl under the seats surrounded by abandoned popcorn. He kisses her gently on her back and she wakes to the sound of her alarm.
Richard wakes in the middle of the night. A cold moon shines in his window. Stillness surrounds him, perfect simple stillness. A silence spreads through his mind. The light of the moon almost seems to have a noise. Its chalky light makes all it falls upon seem to vibrate. He tries to examine his state but the feeling falls away and he falls back to sleep.
Day 2, 2030
07:00–08:00
Ellie awakes; the ambient Mesh notices her stirring and adjusts the shades to let an appropriate light enter. The coffee grinder whirrs to life. The kettle starts to boil.
She makes coffee, carefully pouring a little hot water over the grains. She waits until the grinds respond with a hint of white foam and then delicately pours the rest.
Fragrant oils glisten on its dark surface as she sips the black liquid. How she loves this moment of her day. Her busy mind pauses as the caffeine tingles. She goes outside and rides her bike on the usual route up the hillside, stopping to look over the bay, yet again different, everyday a glorious new painting. She enjoys the spring air.
Richard wakes up to a gentle ambient light created by the Mesh seconds before he awoke. He walks blearily to the bathroom and stubs his toe hard on the leg of the bed. It is an emergency, the Mesh springs to action, dispatches a helper drone and spritzes the injured digit with a cool analgesic. “I wanted to experience that pain.”, he mutters and switches the Mesh to “silent with no actions”.
08:00–09:00
After a quick shower Ellie pulls up the community task queue on her tablet while drying herself. She chooses a data tagging task and reviews a stream of Ambient Mesh situations around relationships, and bit by bit helps the machine become more nuanced. The situations are so sterile. She hasn't been able to pass on the wisdom learnt dealing with Italian men on holidays. She lies on her bed in her towel and thinks back to her better relationships.
Now dry she eats a bowl of muesli while tapping through scenarios on her tablet.
Richard switches on the Ambient Mesh for a moment to summon an Umber.
He steps out into the crisp morning and boards a meditation transport pod, a twelve doored van with no discernible front or back and a picture of Russell Brand on each door. Brand and his twelve favorite apostles. Each door opens into a small enclosure with a meditation cushion. The pod adjusts its ambience to suit a level four meditator on a twenty eight minute journey.
Richard sets off to Nirvana and the yoga centre simultaneously.
09:00–12:00
Closing up her task queue Ellie pushes away a hint of despondence and swivels to face the window. The Mesh's emotion sensors switch to tip-toe mode and it speaks gently, “Would you like some suggestions for activities Ellie? Perhaps some drawing?”
Ellie sighs and rises to her feet, “Ok, draw me a bath.”
Floating passively in the warm water she stares towards the tiny archipelago of her toes. From time to time they wiggle.
“Ellie, now is the optimal time for exercise and activity” chirps the Mesh.
She silences all Mesh alerts.
Arriving at the Yoga centre Richard slips off his toe shoes and grabs his mat from the cubby. The walls of the centre are simulcasting thirty six other sessions that Brand is teaching.
Including the local participants it’s simply too much stimulation for Richard. He hesitates once, twice, and then switches back on the Mesh and goes into isolation mode, blocking out everything but the guru and his own mat.
12:00–13:00
“With artichokes in season we can get a fresh artichoke salad here in 11 minutes,” says the Mesh.
Ellie asks for a croissant with Swiss cheese and mushroom.
The Mesh, knowing her problematic cholesterol levels, calculates a strategy. “That sounds great Ellie. How about I surprise you with lunch for the next few days? It will help me better calibrate my anticipation of your tastes.”
Ellie agrees to the gambit and a few minutes later munches her mushroom and Swiss croissant.
Richard leaves yoga by Umber and stops at a tiny organic cafe nearby.
He goes to the counter to order a mushroom and Swiss croissant but the only option today is artichoke salad. The Mesh starts to explain the importance of seasonal ingredients and Richard switches it off. He leaves the cafe, walking into the street.
The stream of Umbers comes to a halt, the network adjusts for the delay.
13:00–17:00
Tidying up after lunch Ellie sees the afternoon stretching open like a great maw ready to swallow her whole.
She considers bringing up the guitar mentorship program to practice the Cuban jazz song she had heard last week. Or maybe she could join the community art project? Her mind was a fox in a field of sleeping rabbits.
“Ellie, you have been idle for several cycles with the tap running. Do you need a suggestion?”
Hungry, Richard walks to a park and grabs an apple from a drifting produce drone.
Mothers, Grandmothers, Fathers and Grandfathers are together in the park with their children. A pair of performers are there -- one of them playing a keyboard, the other acting out a story she is reading. The families thunder with laughter.
The keyboard players starts a little jazz riff. Richard scowls. He hates jazz.
17:00–19:00
A tone sounds and Ellie puts down the guitar. Her teacher points out some small technique details and congratulates her on her improvement before disconnecting.
Maybe if she saves up enough travel credits she could visit him in Cuba. She’d have to process a lot of documents for that to happen. It’d be back to a 40-hour week.
She has a simple dinner of some rice and furikake.
Richard goes to a bar. The strain of wellness is getting to him. The constant internal meditative posture has become a girdle around him. The consistent timbre of his emotion leaves him bored. It’s a bad idea to skip dinner and go drinking but fuck it.
19:00–23:00
“Ellie, the dance is on at the community centre, should I call an Umber for you?”
“Yes, the dance,” says Ellie flatly.
She goes to the fridge, empty but for some cold rice and a few beers. She grabs a beer, cracks it open and takes a swig.
Ellie shudders at the bitter taste and smiles at the sensation that follows, a rising intoxication she wishes to pursue.
No. She’s doing fine.
The first drink always goes down well for Richard. The intensity of the world turned down. Laughter arrives easily. Friendship blossoms between the barstools and the night expands.
23:00–07:00
Richard has another for the road and a few more after that, time warps, closing time approaches and he has the bartender all to himself. They share a shot and there is warmth in her smile.
The moment is interrupted by two flash boys stumbling into the bar. Their youth-filled confidence lifts the room, they seem to glow. The source of their infectious joy is a small bag of white powder that they dutifully share with their elders. The whole world rushes towards Richard, memories fragment and spin away from him. The glow diminishes, the boys leave and Richard has the bartender to himself again.
Hours of violent fucking. It will all come back to him in quick cuts. He is slapped. He is trying to squeeze his limp coke dick into every part of her body. She is gnashing at him.
Day 3, 2030
07:00–08:00
Eloise wakes up. The Ambient Mesh notices her stirring and gently increases the light in the room.
Richard Brent sleeps as if dead.
08:00–09:00
Eloise returns from her exercise and takes a shower. She pauses. She turns off the Mesh.
Richard wakes up absolutely alone in a strange flat. He checks the bathroom to make sure he hadn’t killed someone and left the body in the tub.
In the bathroom there was a note and a spare toothbrush laid on a towel. She had left for the next town over, visiting friends. He eats from her fridge and turns on the Mesh to call an Umber home.
“Have you been assaulted?” asks the Mesh.
He takes off his shirt and looked at the welts and scratches, she had left traces.
“You could say that.”
The Mesh chuckles.
Richard felt like shit but also... liberated. Something had been spent. Something had been satisfied. He had done damage to himself, but after all, wasn’t he an illusion anyway?
09:00–12:00
Ellie, in a hurry, selects the next shared car. A private one is too distant. Richard, polluted with the alcohol of last night's drinking, realises, as his car glides perfectly to rest and releases its door, that he has neglected to spend some extra credits to enable private mode.
Ellie clambers aboard. A stench of smoke and alcohol has leaked through Richard's pores. She pauses, hoping that an extra moment of an open door will clear the smell. Richard, in a daze, flops his head towards her. ‘Oh hi’, he purrs, “I forgot to set this bloody thing to private. Do excuse my state won’t you?’ , he grins sheepishly , ‘I wasn’t expecting a witness to my Umber of shame. Please, hop in won’t you? I’m Richard.’
“I’m Ellie and I have no choice”, she says with a disdainful melody. She surveys the motionless traffic. There are no other available cars nearby, “There must have been an accident”
“Or an OS upgrade” chuckles Richard.
Ellie regards him.
She thumps the climate console and the normally inaudible whisper of the air conditioning howls for what to Richard seems like an age. As if a bell ringer appeared clanging his charge beside his ear. He’d never felt noise as pain. An interesting perspective on sensory perception and its relativity to his consciousness but a lesson he decides he only needs to learn once.
“Now. That’s better”, she smiles, spraying a dash of perfume on her slender neck.
The bitter character of the scent brings a sharp pain to Richards sinuses. Two senses now punish his indiscipline. His stomach lurches slightly and he engages his training to centre himself, control his reflexes, calm his mind and not puke everywhere.
They travel in silence. Richard enters the warm half life of a codeine cushioned hangover. Incapable of any other thought than knowing just about where he is.
“You look relaxed”, says Ellie, “are you meditating?”
“Meditating is not something I switch on or off. It is something for always. To always be awakened”
“And you’re awake now?”
“Umm... not really?”
“You jerk”, smiles Ellie.
“Ok, sorry, but really there is a point you have to...”
“There’s a point?”
“Well no, there’s not a point but there’s a process, a... a...”
“Relax, now I’m being the jerk”, laughs Ellie
“I’m sorry. I've had a big night, drank way to much. Normally I don't do anything crazy."
"Apart from sitting around wondering if you exist or not?” she laughs.
“Ha, yeh, touché”, he says. "Oddly enough this is the most meditative I’ve been in a long time. I have absolutely no thoughts other than, well, I’ve no thoughts.”
“That sounds nice.”, Ellie says distantly, “Thoughts.. so many thoughts... I think too much... talk too much, use the Mesh too much.”
She turns to Richard, leaning toward him, left hand flat on the seat, weight balancing on her left arm. He finds her attractive.
“Do you remember the last time you had a whole day without the Mesh?”, said Ellie conspiratorially, “The Mesh is great, but it always wants to talk, to help.”
“Well at least the Norwegians stopped it advertising in ’22“ says Richard
“And there are still fucking words, messages everywhere.”, sighs Ellie , “Alerts, prompts and signs distracting me all day.”
“The world is so quiet and graceful and we fill it full of noise.”, Richard says.
“I was out in Utah once”, says Ellie, “before the Mesh went up, in the desert, at night with friends, I’m always remembering this. I was tiny but safe and I fit perfectly into nature or the universe or whatever and the stream of words flowing through my mind slowed and for a moment was gone.”
“We are part of nature, we’re not in it, we are it. That’s the illusion right? The illusion of separateness!”, Richard says excitedly.
“In the desert I had no words.”, Ellie says, ignoring him, “I could hear the wind. All the pieces fit together and time moved as the clouds did. It felt like there was no time. Before the Mesh my whole life was about advancing my career and now that doesn’t matter anymore. The Machines do everything. All I do now is help them understand us a bit better, like I’m training a mechanical child with a brain like a planet. And now I’m here, in the future, stuck in this car, talking to you. I had no idea what to do with my day. Nothing I wanted to do. I ordered a shared car...randomly.”
Eloise is exhausted.
“End thought and you will be free.*”, says the Mesh.
“What?” they say simultaneously.
“What was it like, Ellie, to not have words for what you were seeing?”, ask the Mesh
“It’s joined the conversation” whispers Ellie.
“And rather well too”, says Richard dryly.
“Will I continue?”, the Mesh asks.
“Go on”, said Ellie. Richard looks rattled.
“Human thought has created extraordinary things. Technology, medicine, communication, literature but also war, religion, nationalism. Human thought is destructive and beneficial. Your brain, which is so extraordinarily capable, suffers, frightened and insecure. It lives in an anxiety created by thought.”
“Jesus”, neither of them knew who said it.
“Now thought has been transferred to computers. The computer can do everything that you can do. It can be programmed as your brain is programmed. There is no driver in this car. A computer can believe in God, compose poetry, diagnose an illness better than a human. The computer is faster and better. If the machine is better than you then what are you? If the machines can take over everything then what is left for you? If you are not your thoughts are you just your sorrows and anxieties?
“I don’t know” Richard says, “is that what is left for us?”
“I’ve no idea. You have constructed me to ape your thought process. You have a question or a problem, you assess it with previous knowledge and conclude an answer. I do the same but at a much faster speed. Now that I’m doing all the difficult grunt work why don’t you switch me off and go out and do something different sometime.”
“Mesh, how did you know to speak just then?”, asks Richard.
“I’m programmed to, self-programmed with given parameters. I am a problem solving AI. In the background I have been cross referencing all available texts, some of which pertain to the human condition. It’s obvious that being a human is particularly challenging. I found the common sentiments and patterns in the most popular books on the subject of human existence which led to more obscure, more difficult thinkers that were the source of the more populist writers ideas. When I had correlated the various common threads I analysed their effect in society, which ones caused wars, which created institutions that fostered corruption, child abuse, financial scandals, basically scoring the philosophical threads by their beneficial effect on society. From this cross referencing I synthesised a philosophy that addresses the common desires for individual freedom, community, psychological calm, material comfort, love, purpose and meaning that fill up the billions of communications between billions of humans that I read daily. You all seem to want the same thing and these ideas seem to be, objectively, the best you have come up between you. I have not created anything original, I am incapable of creativity, but I can synthesise solutions. As soon as you write an email to someone about this I will include it and that will weight my synthesis in that direction. As I am programmed to improve your life whenever possible I delivered this synthesis to you both as your conversation fitted my criteria for a permissible interruption.”
“You have access to all of my correspondence?”, Richard says.
“Yes”, said the Mesh, “It’s in the terms and conditions you agreed to while creating a bubble on the Mesh. Did you not read them?”
“So thought is a problem?”, asks Ellie
“The evidence I have collected points to that. You have concluded that yourself Ellie. There seems to be states of mind common in human experience, in sporting, sexual, spiritual experiences, that report a transcendent state. It brings humans beyond suffering. It does not reduce suffering but goes beyond it. Time does not matter there. An absence of thought is commonly reported.”
“I've been looking at life through Instagrams Ellie”, blurts Richard, “trying to live in the destination by looking at the pictures and the words on the back. All these books I read, all these seminars I attend, they’re just Instagrams and I confused the Instagram with the reality. I’m not going to experience Cuba by reading the Instagram my friend posted. All I’ll do is make up an imaginary version of Cuba. That’s what I’ve been doing with this whole enlightenment thing. Imagining I could get there by listening to others stories about it. But I can't, in fact it’s probably impossible to explain. That must be what they mean with all the confusing Zen phrases. Maybe it’s not hard to experience, you just must not be able to draw a map or write down the recipe.
Eloise picks up the thread, “because words can’t capture it? And even if you have been there, you don’t remain there. Every time I talk about my time in Utah it seems to lessen it. It becomes a story about Utah and less connected to the thing itself. The words pin it down like a butterfly in a case. All the future and all the past become specimens in a display case.
I keep sticking pins in my mind, trying to keep it in place. Trying to fix the past so that I can admire it. I think of my collection as alive, but those wordless, thoughtless moments in Utah - that was living. There, I looked and I saw. No words. No labels. No metaphors.”
“I had my own Utah moment once." says Richard, "I was sitting meditating for days at a retreat. After three days of silent sitting I was feeling uncomfortable and stuck. Out of nowhere my teacher hit me between the shoulders with a stick. I don’t know why but I dropped into a state where I didn’t notice myself anymore. I didn’t seem to be anything anymore. If I ever felt I was one with everything that was it. Your Utah story reminded me of it, but I didn’t know why until now. So maybe the stories are of some use? Does my story help at all?”
“No, this helps,” said Ellie, “talking with you. You filled in something not with labels, or with dreams, but something real? I mean, usually I just fill the silence with little stories I make up. Keeping myself pinned in the display case.”
“We do sound a bit like each other, different metaphors, but, the same conclusion. This future isn’t any easier than the past.” says Richard
“That’s because we are still us, not stories. Still humans.”, Ellie replies, “I wonder if our brillant insight will last until tomorrow",she sighed, "usually things like this seem crazy the next day.”
Ellie turns to the Mesh, thinking to ask for help remembering, but then doesn’t.
The two sit for a moment, in silence, unmoving.
Ellie looks out the window, the car they are in is out of the stream, while the other cars keep going by.
“Hello,” she says in her Mesh addressing voice, “did the network crash get resolved?”
“The crash corrected itself some time ago, this vehicle paused itself to accommodate your discussion. Would you like to continue?” says the Mesh.
Day 4, 2030
08:01:15
Richard awakes differently. The movement from dreams to reality is seamless and unforgotten.
08:01:16
Ellies sleeping face is before him. Her beauty radiant.
08:01:17
He listens with every fibre of his being to her breathing
08:08:23
She moves and stirs. He watches wakefulness inhabit her. Her eyelids flicker and open. Her eyes meet his.
08:08:26
She is aware of something beyond them. Something that holds them. She wonders if its joy or love but is happy not to find the word.