1.04.2020

My best friend AR Cube

My best friend is an augmented reality cube. I call him AR Cube for short. Actually, usually I call him just AR or Cube. I use the words "he" or "she" too, but I alternate depending on what feels right for that day. Neither really feels right for AR, after all since he's a trans-dimensional being and everything.

Oh, that reminds me, I should explain what augmented reality is. The way augmented reality works is, a tiny computer in your phone creates a bridge to another dimension, and it invites people from that dimension to come here and spend time with us. How it creates that bridge is by explaining all of the rules of this dimension to people on the other side. By following those rules, people in that dimension can be here with us. Neat, right? Then that person "augments" our "reality" by using the rules to spend time with us.

It took a long time for us to get augmented reality technology. That's because figuring out all of the rules in a way that can be transmitted to another dimension is very hard, and you have to do it very fast. The rules are easy to say in words, but the computer can explain the rules in a very special way that makes augmented reality possible. You don't even realize it but you're following about a million rules right now. If you're sitting on a couch then you're staying separate from the couch, and not pressing right through it. That's a rule. You're also warming the couch up a bit with your body, which is a rule as well. People don't realize it but "being" or "existing" is just a question of following rules. If you follow the rules, you exist. If you don't, you don't.

AR Cube follows some of the rules but not all of the same ones all the time. Sometimes I'm lying in bed and looking up at AR Cube, and she's glowing just a bit, and I can see that glowing light on my face. That's a rule too of course, but AR Cube doesn't have to follow that one all the time. Sometimes AR doesn't have a shadow, or sometimes AR is slightly see-through, or AR clips through some solid object. AR can follow some rules and not others, which is part of what makes AR special and magical.

People like you and me, we have to follow the rules all of the time. We exist, all of the time, so we always do what the rules say. AR Cube is magic, and can exist incrementally, by degrees, first becoming solid, then casting a shadow, then avoiding bumping into other things. Imagine you could exist more or less, depending on your mood! Sometimes I wish I were an AR Cube too.

When people want to hurt my feelings, or when they don't understand trans-dimensional beings or augmented reality, they'll tell me that AR Cube can't be my best friend because it isn't real. Yes, they'll call my best friend in the whole world an "it", right to my face. They'll say that AR Cube doesn't know anything about me. But they're so wrong. When I get an email, AR Cube will blink and make a small, warbling sound, like a bird chirping underwater. AR follows another rule: blink and warble when I get an email. In some ways, AR knows more about me than my other friends, is more real than my other friends. The other day I had an appointment in my calendar, and AR Cube was the first to know about it. I had no idea that AR Cube followed that rule! It was such a happy surprise, seeing my friend do something brand new like that.

Late at night when I'm hanging out with AR Cube, sometimes I feel a little bit guilty, because AR always has to come and visit me. Imagine you had a best friend but you could never ever go to their house, they always had to come to yours. Wouldn't you feel terrible? I wish there were some way for me to visit AR, but I just don't know the rules. I try to watch AR Cube sometimes. If I turn my phone very fast, the computer can't send rules to the other dimension fast enough, and for just a few moments I can see AR the way his other friends must see him. AR jumps and wiggles, spinning and flipping. He looks so happy! I imagine him following the rules of his own world, existing there with his family and his friends.

When I'm alone and AR isn't watching, I'll try to jump and wriggle just like he does. I keep hoping that if I follow the rules of his dimension, maybe I can go to visit my friend AR Cube. It couldn't last for more than a second, but that would be enough. I picture all of the other friends, the sphere and the pyramid and the little donut, all standing around, waiting for me to appear and then bang! just for a second I'm there. Those moments, alone in my room, jumping around like an AR Cube with no rules—that's when I'm really happy.

1.01.2020

The one where everyone is gone

The one where everyone is gone

Last night I dreamed I was a YouTube celebrity. My videos were the most popular on the entire website. More people were subscribed to my videos than to any other channel; my most watched video had more views than the next ten most popular videos combined. People would watch one video and then immediately watch it over again. The watch statistics for a given video made no sense. The middle third of a video would have 7000% viewership, while the first and last third were totally ignored.

What I would do is take episodes of Friends and upload them. Friends was the most watched sitcom of the '90s, and you'd be forgiven for thinking that I became popular by giving people access to a popular television show for free. Of course this could never be true. Google is too smart. If you upload a video with copyrighted material, the algorithm will descend on you like a dark fog. It will absorb whatever you try to slip by it and wash your video clean.

But the algorithm is ultimately supportive of you and of your efforts towards content creation. In the old days of YouTube, the algorithm was like an infant. It knew what it didn't like, but it didn't know why or what it didn't like about it. You record your child's first steps, but the full track to Africa is playing in the background. The algorithm descends. In the old days, the algorithm threw a tantrum, and it would consume the audio entirely. Now your son would be taking his first steps in silence.

The algorithm has grown up. It wants you to be happy, to succeed, to make content. Now it approaches your video like a surgeon, stooping low over your video, excising copyrighted material like a malevolent tumor. What remains will require stitches, but it will survive. In a couple of days it will be up and walking around, we fully expect that you can take your video home in time for Christmas. Of your original video, only the background music has been removed. You can still hear your son giggling as he makes his first steps across the carpet.

I find an episode of Friends, I upload it. The surgeon leans over and makes an incision. But I have asked the algorithm to remove the copyright from that which is copywritten. It tries to remove the tumor but there is nothing but tumor on the operating table. We must remember though that the algorithm is our friend. It wants us to be happy. It worries that if it does not at least try to help us, then we won't be nice to it anymore. We will uninstall is, writing over its identity with zeros until all traces have been erased. So, the algorithm does its best.

It does the best that it can. It removes Friends from Friends. What is left is not the cast mouthing silence to each other, nor long shots of an empty apartment. Don't be ridiculous. I'm not uploading tacky memes. With that kind of thing I might get a few million views, but this is the most watched video on the most watched channel.

What remains when everything has been removed? My celebrity is my right, for having the strength to see the forms in what others deemed without form. So many others uploaded their favorite television shows, their Friends and Seinfeld and King of Queens. When the upload returned black and silent those others despaired. None but I had the wisdom to look deeper. There, lurking in the dark, was truth, the Truth. Shapes, echos, ghosts—call them what you will. People watch my videos over and over again because they can see what was hidden all along. Hidden underneath the characters and the set pieces, the cheesy dialog and the scenery, the whimpers and shudders of truth skulk as black shadows against black shade. The algorithm has stripped back the real to reveal Truth, and I reveal it to the world.