BATTERIES IN A DAYDREAM

Do you know what I've always wondered about The Matrix? Why did the machines bother? I mean, why go to the trouble of programming an almost infinitely complex replica of the world, a vast network of integrated virtual reality, connecting up the memories, thoughts, interactions and emotions of every person plugged into it... just to keep your batteries alive and dreaming that they're in it? That seems really inefficient... and pointless.

I've probably misunderstood all those pseudo-psychobabble speeches that pepper the script, the layered mechanisms of control, and the need for a storyline... but it's not really my fault if I have, is it, Wachowskis? That scene where The Architect sits explaining it all in front of Neo and those television screens may as well be in Latvian.

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"Oh God, my friend Andy's bought one of those Samsung smart TVs," said my colleague, Louise, today. "It's like so weird, it's got voice recognition, and apparently it records your conversations, even when it's on standby."

I raised an eyebrow.

"Have you ever read Nineteen Eighty Four?" I said. She had. It's alarming to think that a television might be watching you - that, of course, was the whole premise of the Big Brother idea in the first place: an all-encompassing state of surveillance - the subscribers become the watched, the consumer becomes the product, as long ago as 1948. I think even Orwell would be astonished by the Samsung smart TV. I tell you what, it makes me want to opt out of modern life, almost altogether.

"Oh no, it's OK," say the bods at Samsung, "We're not going to actually use your data! Oh heavens, no; we're only going to store it, you know, see if we can develop general trends, that kind of thing. Don't worry, people of Earth. We're not stalking you! Honest!"

Phewee. Well, if all you're going to do is store it... bring on the TV that eavesdrops into my living room! Heck, why not? Wanna tap my phone and read my emails while you're at it? Hey if it's good enough for GCHQ*...

Meanwhile, the boffins over at flannelbook are developing an algorithm which will tag you in every picture of you that's posted... whether you like it or not. This, they argue, is to actually increase your privacy, allowing you to see exactly which pictures of you are out there and untag them manually. Oh what joy and rapture. Extra admin.

Every new thing I read about flumpbook fills me with dread these days. At what point did we all decide to plug into a machine-based network of computers to share our memories, emotions, thoughts and interactions through a programmed virtual reality? When did our personal data and preferences become fuel for large corporations? Are we just batteries caught in a daydream?



*allegedly. You know, just in case they're reading.