Digit-i-zed
1. The DNA riots
Remember the notorious DNA riots of 2030? Gangs of youths roamed the streets, grabbing anyone they didn’t like the look of – and pricking them with one of those little DNA testers you could buy on eBay. These sophisticated devices analysed the blood in a second, before wirelessly uploading the results to a central database. A couple more seconds and the victim’s entire racial history appeared on the display. If they were lucky they got called “brother” and received a few slaps on the back. If not, boots clubs and machetes rained down on them.
After a million deaths and two years of hand-wringing, the world court finally made the devices illegal but by then it was too late. Most of Europe and America had fractured into self-governed racial boroughs, guarded by young men in bizarre ‘uniforms’ that reinterpreted traditional ethnic costumes.
But technology had one final card to play. By as early as 2035 the first of the “gene fraud” drugs appeared. With these, you could become an Aryan or a Hopi Indian at will. Every day, new, exotic racial templates appeared for easy download. Like ringtones. Punch it up and pop the pill.
Now that a human being was becoming almost fully digitised (and therefore freely editable), the masses moved on to other diversions. Like freaky clubs where couples would do identity mashups. And then there were those crazies that elected to become Wiki-humans. Some really bad shit happened to a few of them.
2. Human 2.0 (beta)
By the middle of the 21st century, each earth-based human has now been issued, at birth, with a mandatory, non-transferable, GPS-trackable IPv6 address. This is combined with a range of two-way bioprogramming technologies which have evolved out of the exciting new field of ‘biodigitisation’. These technologies allow frequent interactive upgrading of each individual human entity.
Of course, getting the public to buy all of this wasn’t exactly smooth sailing. The original ‘stick’ was the usual fear-based controls: terrorism, pedophiles, global pandemics, increase in violent urban crime, etc., etc. The ‘carrot’ was a substantially prolonged life, plus the lure of literally hundreds of irresistable new ‘senses’ and abilities. Be sexier, smarter, stronger, more orgasmic. Dance better, see in the dark, listen to gravity waves… it’ll show up on your next bill.
Some people are still questioning whether it was all worth it. For a start, unforseen psychological trauma has occurred throughout much of the population, as people abdicate their ‘individuality’ to what is, essentially, an ‘editing process’ – one that is mostly controlled by multiple commercial, political, military and scientific interests. And the initial flood of cheap ‘psych-upgrades’ has only made things worse.
Many elections and wars have now been fought over the central question of just who has control of this process. Me or them? And, these days, what is ‘me’ anyway?
Or them?
3. The silent generation
Hey man! Remember the 60s? Not the 1960s… the 2060s! This was a time of massive social unrest and profound change for the world, and it produced a communication revolution. All over the globenet, people had begun to quietly rebel against the digital commodification of the self.
Very quietly.
Of course, the control centres soon knew something was afoot, but it was hard to pin it down. Sure, they could remotely see what someone was seeing; remotely hear what someone was saying. They could closely monitor every aspect of an individual’s physiological state. And endlessly cross reference the results to any other individual or group. They knew exactly who you were talking to or doing business with 24/7. But actually knowing a unit’s thoughts – getting meaningful data on their feelings – now that was proving elusive to even the most advanced technology.
It was the one missing tag.
The youth were the first to realise how to exploit this system weakness, and the weapon they chose was as ancient as humans themselves. In the blinding/deafening clubs and bars, a radical new form of communication sprung up: writing. But not just any writing. Certainly not the abbreviated ‘keyspeak’ that filled all the channels (what you used to negotiate sex or book Moon reservations).
It was all so simple. You didn’t speak it, you wrote it down. On paper. A strange new language quickly evolved. Archaic words and symbols aquired subtle new meanings. No-one ever spoke them, so what did they sound like? Only you knew, as you soundlessly read them to yourself. The meanings were personal, complex, ambiguous, ironic, paradoxical, absurd even. Impossible to codify or commodify. The language of the heart.
In the early stages, it was hard using the fledgling language to communicate any practical information, but people worked out how to do it after a few years. Who could be trusted, who couldn’t. Where to get useful stuff, meet others like yourself, etc. etc. There were so many ways to say a simple thing.
Finally, a cataclysmic new piece of information spread out across the hand-written network: how to disconnect yourself from the globenet. Someone had worked it out. The procedure was dangerous and several people died, but gradual improvements meant that soon millions of individuals were, well, individuals again. Completely off the radar.
Major cities soon saw large demonstrations by the ‘freebies’. No slogans or rallying cries were shouted. In fact, no-one made any sound at all. Thousands of mostly young people proceeded through the streets and shopping centres, in total silence, each holding a placard filled with incomprehensible symbols. But the message to the onlookers was loud and clear. It was in the expressions on the demonstrator’s faces.
The authorities cracked down, made arrests, issued threats, created scare campaigns, executed ‘ringleaders’ … anything and everything to stop it. But it was all too late.
The world simply switched off.
