The Future for Curious People: A Novel Read Online Free
Author: Gregory Sherl
meant going to envisionists!”
“It’s actual science. You know that, right?” And then Madge napalms me with data. She’s got an incredible ability to memorize stuff. There’s nothing I can do but sit back and take it. “Each human being has vast untapped mental abilities. Our eyes take in some twelve million pieces of information every second while in that same second, our ears are processing one million pieces of information, touch is bringing in five hundred thousand data points per second, smell is only bringing in seventy bits of information and taste is only registering about fifteen info bits per second, but look, Godfrey, do you know how many pieces of sensory information that is per second?”
“You know I don’t know,” I say. Does she think I’ve been running a mental calculator? Are we still even talking about marriage?
“That’s approximately thirteen million five hundred thousand eighty-five pieces of sensory information per second. And those are just the senses alone. There’s also all the deep tissue of long-term memory and the chemical processing of short-term data and the processing of intangible information as each of these senses is synthesized to produce thought, action, reaction.”
“That’s a lot of knowledge.” If I agree with her, maybe I can reroute the conversation back to marriage more quickly.
“And then that Scandinavian researcher figured out that if we could process information without the interference of the subconscious’s absurdism and emotion—vengefulness, greed, hope, faith, hatred, and most of all love, which blurs everything we perceive”—she seems really annoyed by the blurriness caused by love—“and add that to what we know from the past, we could predict our own future outcomes, in minute detail.”
“Uh-huh,” I say, feeling a little like crying.
“We know,” she says. “Our brains know so much more than we ever let them!”
“I get it.” I barely get it.
“The drug cocktail that Percel created puts the patient into a short kind of awake-REM state, cuts out the white noise of emotions, and allows the person to predict a specific potential future. And then, this is the best part, Godfrey. Are you listening?”
“Yes,” I say, a little defensively.
“This guy named Bacon figured out how to digitize that dreamlike state—capturing the synapses—for viewing. See how perfect it is? It’s a real tool, but it doesn’t come from out there, Godfrey.” She straightens her arms and waves her hands at the world. “It comes from in here.” She taps her forehead and then my forehead. “Each of us is brilliant, Godfrey. See? So don’t sell yourself short.”
“I’m not selling myself short! I asked you to marry me. Remember?”
“Look. This is my one request. Envisionists. It’s the only smart thing to do.”
“If people can really tell the future, why do they muck around with people’s relationships? Call the next Super Bowl! Put a fix on the stock market!”
“Godfrey, envisioning is overseen by the FCC. Do you really think that they’d let people broadcast futures that would infringe on commerce? There are tons of regulations.”
“Really. The FCC.” I didn’t know this.
“They only have the matchmaking software at this point, but they’re working on the regulatory issues around other futures, like career paths. They worry it might have unforeseen ramifications on the economy if everyone suddenly decides to ditch med school and go into investment banking for the cushy lifestyle.”
“Right. Investment banking. I probably should have considered that more closely. And we need doctors, too. I mean, who will outfit the investment bankers with pacemakers when their tickers start to fail.”
“Don’t be caustic.”
“I’m not being caustic! Doctors are important! Pacemakers save lives!”
“Well, it really worked out great for Bart and Amy! You can’t deny that. They both saw fantastic futures. Incredible. I mean,
“It’s actual science. You know that, right?” And then Madge napalms me with data. She’s got an incredible ability to memorize stuff. There’s nothing I can do but sit back and take it. “Each human being has vast untapped mental abilities. Our eyes take in some twelve million pieces of information every second while in that same second, our ears are processing one million pieces of information, touch is bringing in five hundred thousand data points per second, smell is only bringing in seventy bits of information and taste is only registering about fifteen info bits per second, but look, Godfrey, do you know how many pieces of sensory information that is per second?”
“You know I don’t know,” I say. Does she think I’ve been running a mental calculator? Are we still even talking about marriage?
“That’s approximately thirteen million five hundred thousand eighty-five pieces of sensory information per second. And those are just the senses alone. There’s also all the deep tissue of long-term memory and the chemical processing of short-term data and the processing of intangible information as each of these senses is synthesized to produce thought, action, reaction.”
“That’s a lot of knowledge.” If I agree with her, maybe I can reroute the conversation back to marriage more quickly.
“And then that Scandinavian researcher figured out that if we could process information without the interference of the subconscious’s absurdism and emotion—vengefulness, greed, hope, faith, hatred, and most of all love, which blurs everything we perceive”—she seems really annoyed by the blurriness caused by love—“and add that to what we know from the past, we could predict our own future outcomes, in minute detail.”
“Uh-huh,” I say, feeling a little like crying.
“We know,” she says. “Our brains know so much more than we ever let them!”
“I get it.” I barely get it.
“The drug cocktail that Percel created puts the patient into a short kind of awake-REM state, cuts out the white noise of emotions, and allows the person to predict a specific potential future. And then, this is the best part, Godfrey. Are you listening?”
“Yes,” I say, a little defensively.
“This guy named Bacon figured out how to digitize that dreamlike state—capturing the synapses—for viewing. See how perfect it is? It’s a real tool, but it doesn’t come from out there, Godfrey.” She straightens her arms and waves her hands at the world. “It comes from in here.” She taps her forehead and then my forehead. “Each of us is brilliant, Godfrey. See? So don’t sell yourself short.”
“I’m not selling myself short! I asked you to marry me. Remember?”
“Look. This is my one request. Envisionists. It’s the only smart thing to do.”
“If people can really tell the future, why do they muck around with people’s relationships? Call the next Super Bowl! Put a fix on the stock market!”
“Godfrey, envisioning is overseen by the FCC. Do you really think that they’d let people broadcast futures that would infringe on commerce? There are tons of regulations.”
“Really. The FCC.” I didn’t know this.
“They only have the matchmaking software at this point, but they’re working on the regulatory issues around other futures, like career paths. They worry it might have unforeseen ramifications on the economy if everyone suddenly decides to ditch med school and go into investment banking for the cushy lifestyle.”
“Right. Investment banking. I probably should have considered that more closely. And we need doctors, too. I mean, who will outfit the investment bankers with pacemakers when their tickers start to fail.”
“Don’t be caustic.”
“I’m not being caustic! Doctors are important! Pacemakers save lives!”
“Well, it really worked out great for Bart and Amy! You can’t deny that. They both saw fantastic futures. Incredible. I mean,
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