And the LORD God said, Behold, the man is become as one of us, to know good and evil: and now, lest he put forth his hand, and take also of the tree of life, and eat, and live for ever: Therefore the LORD God sent him forth from the garden of Eden, to till the ground from whence he was taken.
I keep having this nightmare—waking up in a completely computerized-digital-manufactured-assembly-line-kind-of-reality. After being awakened by my automated sleeping pod, which blasts me with a heavy dose of oxygen to ensure that I leave my sleep at the proper time, a conveyor belt delivers a chair to me. Obediently, I take my place in its sleek, stylized palm. It transports me to the bathroom. Bio-thermal-cardio sensors read my vitals and create the perfect shower for me—optimal temperature and duration. After the shower turns itself off, I am air dried—also optimized and regulated. I exit the shower on command and take my place in front of my sink and medicine cabinet. A speaker tells me what vitamins and medications to take and then reminds me to appreciate and thank the corporations that have brought these life-nurturing essentials to my otherwise unhealthy world. I eat my pills and drink them with the perfect cup of water. Perfect size. Perfect temperature.
Then I return to my chair, which plays a selection of new music based on my consumer profile and asks me which ones I would like to purchase using the automated credit server. I say, “All,” and am rewarded with a modest discount and an equally modest credit-rating boost. Then, a psychologically-pleasing track of applause awards this choice and a voice tells me what a good citizen I am and, instantly, tells me to what degree I have helped the economy by saying, "All." I like saying all.
The chair takes me to my closet and selects the perfect outfit based on my personal aesthetic values as well as those belonging to my social circle and status. The video monitor plays the appropriate commercials for the brand names helping me into this perfect outfit for the perfect day. After dressing, I’m transported to the kitchen where another set of biomedical sensors read my body and prepare the optimal meal. I am told when to eat what and what sized bite to take. Optimal ingestion.
My morning routine is complete. Next, I am transported down my personal elevator, which is also perfectly safe as it is built to carry my weight and dimension and eliminates any chance of threat coming from dregs such as muggers or stalkers. Danger has been eliminated, for the most part. I wait in the perfect atmosphere of my solitary garage port while I await my personalized taxi-pod. Everything tailored, perfect, and commercialized—my every whim, fancy, and need provided with no effort. And every day all I do is imagine how much this feels like a shape-shifting prison that follows me everywhere I go—the entire world institutionalized—everything and everyone incarcerated. And I pray for a world-ending meteor. I pray for death—the only freedom left.
However, death is far away. Technology has increased life-expectancy to nearly one-hundred and sixty years. Nanotechnology has lead to the creation of life-saving clothes—vitals constantly monitored—healthcare never more than two minutes away. I will be breathing for quite some time. Suicide has been eradicated. I’d sigh, but the sensors would flag me for psychiatric evaluation. Then I realize it’s too late. I’ve been thinking about this for too long and they’ve noticed a negative trend in my brain wave activity. I’ll be getting a new pill tomorrow. Fuck. I just how the commercial is good.
[Relevant Link: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Arizona_Bay]
