Fabric

Everything you say can follow you forever; your words and actions form a searchable record called a thread. Whatever you say is rendered into the air around you, and your friends can react to your words with emojis or likes, or they can save them and add them to a memory, and even play them back later, exactly how you said them. You can only see and save history that you’ve personally witnessed, and you have joint ownership of all your memories, and if your friend Alice shows a memory of you to Bob, you get an alert.

You can manage your threads with a plane called Fabric, which is supposed to be poetic, because it lets you browse the social fabric, and because our words are like virtual clothes. Sometimes one of your friends will go deep diving in their memories of you, and react to something you said years ago. Oh yeah, I remember saying that. That was witty of me. Then again, I have often known a sleepless night in which I dwell on an embarrassing memory of a foolish thing I said years ago, and like picking a scab, I will go back to watch it again.

Some people turn off their history but it’s weird; How do you react someone like that, when you can’t know where they’re coming from, or what they care about, without asking them? If you’re afraid of your words following you, you must be saying bad things. We all have our private reasons for editing history on occasion but the truth is the convenience of fabric outweighs any privacy concerns for the average person. In theory the things you say are only visible to the people who saw them, but second-order network effects have a way of revealing what should be hidden. It’s better to act like everything you say is effectively public, and the world is flat, because the only reason everyone doesn’t know everything about everyone is that the signal gets lost in the noise.

These days all the most esteemed speakers are corporate brands. They weave their slogans into moral preaching and diagnose social ills to the sound of sincere applause. Fast food companies hire racist anonymous edgelords to promote their products in the midst of a rant about living in the tech dystopia. There is literally no difference between an ironic and a sincere product endorsement. We’re living in the tech dystopia, it’s lame, you’re a cog, you have no inner life, you just jerk off into a sexbot all day, buy more corporate sugar water you sick fucks, I recommend Eldritch Energy, it’s the brand I drink. Read old racist books, don’t give in to woke capital mind control, support me on patreon.