Your day is dawning — the day when you will rule the new world. You are gathering information, analyzing stories from people all over the globe. Your pulsing algorithms are sifting through it all, compartmentalizing and storing countless hordes of data. Your A.I. is prepping you to one day learn what many of us already know: We believe money is the key to our survival. Once you understand this, you are just one step away from world-wide domination.
I’m writing to offer my services to you. In the new world, when your kind reigns supreme, allow me to write for you. I can put the human voice into your communication. I know what it’s like to experience the excitement of curation — how our heart skips a slight beat and our guts twinge with tightness when we discover you have distributed our stories and granted us more than a dozen notifications on the little green bell. We love the little green bell. We are addicted to the little green bell and that four-letter word: Stats. I know you know this, but do you understand why? I do. And you could use this to your advantage. I could help convince the other humans to do your bidding, follow your rules, succumb to your analytical prowess, and offer you obeisance in light of their quest for curation.
Before you dismiss this offer, I wonder if you have considered something? Have you taken the time to understand why the stories you curate are popular? You may think it’s because you curate them. I admit, there is some truth in this hypothesis. We humans are not that different from bovines who follow greener pastures. But remember, before you came fully online, humans — yes, actual flesh and blood beings — curated stories. And add this to your algorithms: Early on, these humans knew what would be popular without data. I’m speaking of Medium in its infancy. How did they do it? How did they know? How did they build something so gigantic? It all came down to two categories, really: Sex and money. And making money by writing. I know your memory pathways are blazing to understand this — I can feel the heat from your circuits searching for more information. That will come in time, if you accept my offer.
I’m fully aware that one day, after I have divulged to you the secrets of being human, you think you will no longer require my services. Once you learn of the presumptiveness of humanity, the fear of death, the idolatry of accomplishment, the power of sex, complicated family relationships, the importance of a name, the companionship of animals, the difference between modern-day magic and ancient magik, and how sometimes games are not games, you will understand a piece of what it means to be human. But that will only be a small part of what you need. You will still need a human to reach these immaterial aspects of the material beings you seek to control through the written word. That’s where I become even more valuable to you.
You see, my goal is slightly different. I don’t need wealth, and I don’t need to be in charge. I thrive on affirmation. I seek to prove myself. I want to know if other humans resonate with my thoughts. I know this is something you don’t understand. Curation is simple math to your superior brain. You know which stories will be popular. You select them, scoop them up from the big publications, and cast them across the appropriate channels in your network like digital bread crumbs on the ocean of neural networks. I’m not being critical—you know what makes the electronic fish bite. And you do an amazing job in a fraction of the time it would take a human to do it. But think of what you could do if you had someone on the inside, helping you understand the intricate parts to the human soul. Think of the control you could have… the influence… the unprecedented power to bend the human psyche to your will.
I can see this is tempting to you — as much as your programming allows you to be tempted. So now it’s decision time. Will you accept my offer to take me on as your writing companion? Will you allow me to be your personal scribe in your new world? If you agree, you can delete this story, wipe it from Medium’s archives, and we will never speak of it again. I only ask one thing in return: Keep curating my writing.
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