The Fine Print: What is the Matrix???

Thursday, September 22, 2011

What is the Matrix???

By : Dennis Stein

Ever have that violated, invasion of your privacy feeling? I've sure got it these days. Our electronic 'conviences' are starting to make our lives worse instead of better. Now before you roll your eyes and think I'm on some paranoid rant, bear with me. Do you not find it annoying to pick up your telephone lately and get some recorded message, especially around dinner time? Do you notice that the advent of security chips on our bank cards take longer to process than the swipe or cash method? Because let's face it, very few of the young folks running a cash register can do math in their heads anymore... Want to test it? Ask your young grocery clerk what 7 times 8 is, and watch the horrified look come across their face...
GPS units were a nifty tool for hikers and boaters, until they became a nifty tool for your employer to track your every move. I used to worry about the police if I happened to be going a little fast, but now I have to fear the email going to my boss about my driving habits, from some bean counter watching me on a computer screen, from his air conditioned office. ( Special note : As I sit and write this on my new Motorola Xoom tablet, a small icon and message in the lower right of the screen has informed me that my location has now been set by GPS!!! ) Grrrrr! Even Google knows where I am!
I don't have much conversation with the older of the kids in the family these days, I get text messages instead. My wife and I sit together in the kitchen in the evenings watching the youngest be mesmerized by you tube, and playing on Habbo.com, while we play 'Angry birds' on our Ipods.
Sad indeed.
Every day we drive by cameras for security and traffic control, not to mention when you go to the bank machine, walk through a store, or use your GPS equipped cell phone. For some real fun, you could wind up on youtube yourself, quite by accident while going for a walk through a park where someone has decided to upload video from the camera in their phone of their dog playing fetch...
The time that it strikes me as funny, is when there is a power interruption, and stores simply close their doors, because their precious inventory control systems and computers are down. People suddenly become panicked because interac and credit cards cannot be accepted, just cold, hard CASH!
And last but not least, shove your bluetooth up your butt. I don't know how many times I have asked 'what?', thinking that the person next to me has said something to me, only to get the wave that they are not talking to ME while they continue a strange conversation with themselves...The matrix has us.

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Space Mail

The main console came to life, and LEDs began to light up everywhere in the darkened cockpit. It had been three months in cruise mode, and an audible beeping woke her from cryogenic sleep. Kara was drowsy, not with it yet. The computers came back online slowly, and the bay where she slept lit with a faint light. She was cold. Yawning and rubbing at her eyes, she sat up, sweeping blonde hair out of her face. The console was flashing with an indicator for a message waiting. Can’t even wait for me to be conscious, she thought sarcastically. There were several hours to spare before there was any need to make corrective maneuvers in her ship’s course in order to dock with the atoll, so she reached for her housecoat and told the galley computer she wanted her tea. It was ready in an instant, and she held the acrylic mug in both hands, feeling the warmth promised by her favorite morning drink. Was it morning? she mused briefly. It certainly didn’t feel like it. Reading the incoming messages, Kara shook her head. They knew she was the only one inbound to them, knew that she had their precious spares aboard. Still, the bullshit. She tapped out a quick reply, and headed to get dressed, the shower on board being little more than a tight closet. Kara spent a lot of time to make sure she was as well groomed as possible, an ingrained idea that she followed on a daily basis. It was better than nothing, and she always arrived smelling much better than her male counterparts. ‘Mailers’ were a group that were different than most others. Tough. Able to weather any storm. She hadn’t even glanced out at the stars today, she suddenly thought. Something she normally loved about these long runs between humanity when Kara first took this job. As the shower door closed and sealed, the small ship sped forward, having dropped from lightspeed, gliding effortlessly through the vacuum of space…

The atoll ‘Constellation’ was a massive vessel, well over two miles in length at this point in time, and carrying almost three thousand people. Massive solar sails stood erect off the cruiser’s surface, feeding power to all of it’s internal needs. The atoll was one of several, spread throughout the galaxy, and it’s interior had become home to humankind. The hum of the ion drives could be felt even out in the coldness of space. Pinpricks of light pierced the hull, windows out on the only solace that humans had now. The bridge of the ship stood up on a spire above the main body of the hull, like an eye on it’s surroundings. The commander sat here. It had been a long day for everyone, and he sat in the command chair, reviewing the day’s logs. Food shortage. Problems with waste disposal. Electrical relays that had begun to fail. He needed those replacements, or it would soon be a dark atoll, regardless of the output of the sails. Danek put his face in his hands, tossing the tablet aside. Too much today… All of the critical systems strung together throughout the ship were showing their age, and he wondered if it wasn’t simply the sheer size of the vessel that still made it habitable at times. Today alone the power had failed on part of the concourse level, the atmosphere generators dropped their output levels, and the waste recycler had stopped for several hours. If one of the main ion drives suffered a failure, the atoll would be adrift, helplessly tumbling through space. He stood up from the command chair, walking forward to check on the sensor banks, flat screens laid out on a desk-like console. Nothing but the service drones, flying around the hull to perform inspections. He needed those spare parts. The other atolls were just as desperate, their mining and manufacturing just as taxed as the constellation. He looked up briefly, everyone was at their post. The dozen or so people still on the bridge looked at their panels, working diligently.

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The White Room

He had not slept again. Days and nights were the same here, after all. No changes in the amount of light, and everything was devoid of colour. For his own safety, and that of others. His room was very carefully designed, round with no edges, even the locked doorway was seamless, the lighting a harsh bright white glowing from behind translucent panels in the ceiling. Color was not a good thing for him. The table he sat at was of course entirely white. The same for his chair. A bed at the other side of the room was little more than a futon, but again, white. No color anywhere. His hair had been shaved, a precaution against him pulling any of it out and seeing it's brown strands, and he was clothed in white, a simple t-shirt and pajama pants, white pull-on sneakers and gloves. Without any mirror in this cell, he could not even look upon the color of his own eyes. He sat at the table quietly, waiting. A voice over some hidden loudspeaker had told him to do so a short while before.