Tuesday, June 3, 2025

Microstory 2422: State of the Art

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Isn’t that a funny name for a dome? State of the Art. Since art is so subjective, that term is so often used to describe scientific advancements, which is essentially the opposite of what we’re talking about here. But in this case, they’re calling the entirety of the dome a state, and its purpose is art. Have you ever seen a show from a long time ago called The Peripheral? It only lasted one season, but in that, they feature sculptures that dot the skyline, which are larger than most buildings around it. They never talked about them, or gave any history, but it was set in the audience’s future. I’m not sure if the Castlebourne people were specifically inspired by this, or if it’s a coincidence, but either way, they have those here. These things go up two or three kilometers in the air, and can sometimes be just as wide. It’s really cool to stand on the balcony level, and look down at the whole thing. You’re a few kilometers up yourself, but there aren’t any clouds that low, since they can control all that stuff. Not every dome has one of these second levels, but I think it’s really important in this case. I certainly think that you could extend it more along the perimeter, or even build more layers, but maybe there was a reason why they stopped it here. I just worry that there won’t be enough room once the planet and the dome become more popular. That’s assuming it does. I know you’re all running from your zombies, and wasting each other in the wasteland, but it’s important to learn to be cultured and quiet. That’s what my mom taught me. She was old enough to remember a time before the longevity escape velocity. To them, art was a way of continuing on an individual’s and culture’s community. A piece of visual art or musical piece is a snapshot in history, showing in the most genuine way what life was like—what life was like for the people making the art, and for the people around them. We’re taught that a painting, for instance, comes from a distinct period in time, and it’s important to understand that. You paint a pond of water lilies in 1840, it evokes a different feeling than someone painting it in 2040. Lives change, lifestyles change. Those two people see the world entirely differently, and recognizing the beauty in that is an important human trait that I think we’ve lost as we’ve developed. We still make art, but it’s a reflection of who we are today, and it means nothing if we can’t remember that. Go back to the past, and learn from it. You can visit one of the Babeldome libraries and read about it, and I definitely wouldn’t discourage you from doing that, but don’t forget about the art. Never forget about the art. It speaks, so listen closely. Be cultured and quiet.

Monday, June 2, 2025

Microstory 2421: The Wasteland

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This place sucks. I get what they were going for here, but it’s lacking that authenticity that a real post-apocalyptic wasteland would have. Or maybe there’s just no way of making this exciting and interesting. The name says it’s all. It’s just miles and miles of desert, it’s so boring. There are a few burnt out cars strewn about, and some random collapsed structure, but not much else. You’re supposed to take your cues from science fiction from days past, and make your own adventure, but I don’t think it really works all that well. I mean, since it’s not real, there’s no desperation. You can always find an exit, and just leave. I really don’t see this one sticking around. Yeah, it’s all right to watch a two-hour movie about this, but I don’t know that anyone wants to spend any substantial amount of time in this environment. Thinking on it, though, it has to exist. This guy’s got 83,000 domes, and had to come up with almost as many ideas. I don’t think he made it, he doesn’t have quite as much—which is fine, I’m not criticizing; I’m just saying that wasteland is certainly a theme that exists. There are tons of examples in media. It would be kind of weird, actually, if they didn’t use it. There seems to only be one like this, which is probably a good thing. Many domes are based on particular franchises, but in the end, all wastelands are about the same, so you probably shouldn’t make more than one. I doubt most people would be interested in even seeing it once. I can’t recommend coming here at all. Maybe they’ll add more intrigue later, with robots that have their own programmed motivations, but if they’re expecting us to do all of the heavy lifting, I just don’t see enough people getting into it. There’s another desert dome where your only goal is surviving long enough to make it clear across to the other side. Try that one instead. At least the incentive is clear. My recommendation to the builders is that they should put the ruins of more buildings here. If the world were to end in such a scenario, it’s not like everything would be flattened and buried, ya know? There would still be stuff here to show that a human civilization once thrived. Just a thought, you don’t have to change anything if you don’t want to.

Sunday, June 1, 2025

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: July 20, 2502

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Everyone was home now, and they were having a meeting. Even Boyd was here, because while he felt like a separate unit, it also seemed like he was somehow part of this. He and Romana exchanged awkward glances, which were annoying to Mateo, but he didn’t want to overshadow the purpose of this gathering. Marie had the floor right now, because she studied this in school in multiple classes. “Simulation hypothesis,” she began. “It’s a modern flavor of one of the oldest philosophical conundrums in history. Since the dawn of man, we have been asking ourselves what reality is. Is it subjective or objective? Do we all share the same reality? Are you real, or just a figment of my imagination? I think, therefore I am, so I know that I’m real in some sense, but I can’t say the same thing about you. Or this couch. Or anything in the world. Maybe I’m dreaming...remembering. Or maybe we are all real, but everything else is some kind of construct. What we’re concerned with today is specifically whether we are in a computer simulation, and it’s not necessarily full sim hypothesis. Perhaps, it’s all about us. Everyone in this room feels connected. Olimpia, you don’t remember applying for the role of Mateo’s assistant, you just know that you did.”
“I...I must have,” Olimpia decided.
Must you have?” Marie asked rhetorically. “We all have weird memories, and we all look at each other with this familiarity that shouldn’t be there. Mister Maestri, you and I only met today, yet I feel like I’ve known you for a while.”
“Is that a good thing?” Boyd asked.
She cocked her head to the side, and regarded him. “No. I don’t like you. Anyone else feel the same way?”
People grimaced, or they looked away. Everyone was uncomfortable.
“Well, I feel like I like all of you,” Boyd defended. He crossed his arms, and started to pout. “But whatever.”
“Yeah, and...I get that,” Marie went on. “You don’t feel the same way about us that we feel about you. But...those kinds of feelings should come from history, not first impressions. I don’t know anything about you. That’s why I think that it’s not really simulation hypothesis. That’s why I think...we’re stuck in a virtual environment. Just us, and everyone else is an NPC.”
“NPC?” Romana questioned.
“Non-player character,” Leona answered. “Just a program, coded to act like an independent entity, but ultimately only an extension of the system.”
“We’re all part of the system,” Ramses argued. “If we are in a virtual reality, and our minds have been messed with, it means that we can’t even trust our own thoughts. I may not have a choice in saying what I’m saying right now. The programmers could be feeding this into the program, and forcing me to say it. While Marie is right, we all feel real, and we feel like everyone else here is real, in contrast to everyone else, we’re just as vulnerable to the code. We’re just as hopeless.”
Marie was loudly quiet.
“Marie?” Angela prompted.
She looked at her sister with a smile. “It’s true, what he says. That’s why I studied these concepts in my philosophy courses, not computer science. It’s unverifiable. Any evidence we find one way or another could merely be what the overlord wants us to see. I use that word, because maybe it’s not computer programmers. Maybe it’s an evil demon. Maybe it’s God.” She chuckled. “Maybe it’s me.”
“So, what do we do?” Boyd asked, trying to be involved, and maybe get on people’s good side. “Is there anything we can try?”
“We can certainly try,” Marie encouraged. “You can always try.” She took a breath. “Simulations are expensive, there’s no way around that. Coding an entire reality is a lot of work. Even if you ask an AI to do it, you’re just shifting that work to the AI. It still has to get done, and it’s not really easier for that AI, it’s just theoretically better equipped to handle the workload.” She carefully pulled a red hair from the arm of her chair. Leona’s. “I can put this under a microscope, and see all the fine details. I can put it under a stronger microscope, and see even finer details. I can put it under the strongest microscope in existence, and resolve atoms. Can you imagine how much work it would take to program a simulation so detailed that it can be broken down into all the atoms in the universe? Some theories say that that’s not really what’s happening. The simulation renders basic visible objects most of the time, and only generates smaller bits when they become necessary. If I were to actually procure that transmission electron microscope, only then would the program say, okay, let’s code a few billion atoms. Well, perhaps there’s something there. If we want to test the boundaries, we could start pulling random things, breaking them down, and testing how detailed they look. If we do it fast enough, maybe the servers that the construct is running on don’t have enough bandwidth to keep up, and we’ll start seeing low-res results.”
“Should we be talking about this out loud?” Romana asked. “Could someone be listening right now?”
Ramses laughed. “If they are, it doesn’t matter what we do. Again, we’re helpless.”
“You said hopeless before,” Olimpia reminded him.
“It’s both,” Ramses agreed.
“All we can do is try,” Leona said. “We might as well run whatever tests we can think of.”
“Sis, what were you talking about last night?” Angela asked. “Geo—geometric—”
“Geometry instancing,” Marie helped. “That’s another thing; related.” She gently kicked the end table. “When you went to the store to buy this, you might have seen multiple copies of the same model. In the real world, you would have to manufacture each one separately. You might use machines—I doubt it’s handcrafted—but you can’t just copy and paste like you can data in a computer. But if we’re in a computer, then you can! So all the other end tables that are just like this one were probably only coded once, and literally re-rendered whenever it was necessary. Because, why wouldn’t you do it like that? Why bother wasting your time writing the same code over and over again? Even if two things aren’t exactly alike, but very closely similar, copying and pasting will help you get the work done faster before you tweak the modifications. Imagine doing this with the houses on this block, or the trees.”
“Or blades of grass,” Romana offered.
“Yeah, grass is perfect,” Marie confirmed. “People don’t pay attention to grass. It all just looks the same. A programmer, trying to save time and resources, might only come up with a dozen or so grass blade models, and just reuse them repeatedly. That’s how I would do it.”
Mateo had been very quiet throughout this whole thing. It wasn’t only that he was listening, but if they were truly at risk of being overheard—by a simulation developer, or a scientist with a bunch of vats full of brains—then someone should be staying quiet, and not give anything away. If they could read his mind, it wouldn’t matter, but on the off-chance that the overlords were limited to audible speech, he was gonna play it close to the chest. He looked over at Leona now. She turned to meet his gaze. Still, he didn’t say anything. He just stared at her. He didn’t know what he was trying to tell her, just...maybe only that he couldn’t tell her anything. She would have to come to her own conclusions, and do it totally with his help.
Leona’s eyes suddenly widened. “Marie, Angela, go get a microscope. Start breaking things down. Olimpia and Boyd, you’re with me. We’re gonna touch grass.”
“What about me?” Romana asked.
“You have a final exam to study for,” Leona reminded her daughter.
“If we’re in a computer simulation, then I don’t,” Romana reasoned.
“If we’re not, then you do. Why are we arguing about this? The whole point of running these tests because we don’t know the truth. Go study.”
“Fine,” she huffed.
“And me?” Ramses asked.
“I thought you said we were hopeless and helpless,” Leona said to him.
Mateo deliberately stared at his wife again.
“Keep my husband company,” Leona decided. “He doesn’t have a job either.”
Mateo stood up, and finally said one word, and it was to Boyd. “Keys.”
Boyd was confused, but Mateo was his boss, so he handed him the keys to his car.
Mateo went outside without saying anything else.
Ramses followed, and then got in the passenger seat. “Where are we going?”
Mateo still didn’t speak.
“Gotchya.” Ramses didn’t know what was happening, but Mateo was his boss too, so he chose to trust him.
Mateo just started driving, going the speed limit, and following all traffic signs. After about ten minutes, he realized how much danger he was putting Ramses in, as well as his family. If they turned out to be wrong, their lives would be ruined. “How confident are you that none of this is real?”
Ramses did nothing for a moment. Then he placed a hand on the door handle. “Keep driving. Don’t stop.” He opened his door, and let his right arm hang over the edge, scraping against the asphalt below. After fifteen seconds, he pulled his arm back in, and closed the door. He sighed as he examined his bloodied hand, front and back. “Pretty confident.”
“Doesn’t hurt?”
“Not really,” Ramses replied. “I can already feel myself healing. It looks worse than it is.”
Mateo nodded. “Good enough for me.” He slammed on the accelerator, and while this wasn’t the fastest car in the world, he was going over a hundred miles per hour before too long. Cars were honking at them as they were whizzing past. He was an administrator at work now, but he still knew how to drive. He didn’t even put two hands on the steering wheel. He was as cool as ever, fully in control. Even at these speeds, they were in no danger of crashing. If that was going to happen, he would have to do it on purpose. He just couldn’t put anyone else in danger. Just because they thought only their small group was real, and everyone else was an NPC, didn’t mean it was true. It was still possible for them to be in a simulation, and these other people were just as real, and just as oblivious. Their connection to each other could be something else, or just because they happened to be the ones who were sensing the inconsistencies. Mateo thought they made a movie about that once, but he couldn’t remember it. Maybe that was in a different world altogether.
He was about to hit traffic, so Mateo jumped up onto the median, and started driving on that instead. Cars continued to honk, but after he drove past, everything just looked kind of normal. They went back to their daily lives, now that the game players were no longer triggering their preprogrammed responses. The traffic jam ended, so Mateo got back on the road, but not before running over a couple of small trees, and an orange sign warning drivers of an upcoming construction zone. Perfect. He saw what it was talking about. They were building a new high rise on the corner, and having to close down one of the lanes next to it, probably to work on the sewage line. For a few seconds, they were Tokyo drifting when Mateo made a sharp turn, and then blew through the fence. The closest call was when he nearly ran into another car who was probably coming in to work here. Construction workers waved their hands in dismay, but again, just went back to what they were doing before he showed up. Man, if this wasn’t a program, something had to be going on.
Mateo continued to drive on the rough dirt non-road, splashing in the mud, and sideswiping some kind of big white and yellow machine. It slew him down, but he didn’t stop. There was a dirt ramp up ahead. He smirked. “I’ve always wanted to try this.”
“It might be the last thing you do.”
“Hashtag-worth it!”
“What’s a hashtag?” Ramses questioned.
They drove right onto the dirt pile, and jumped over the far side of it. It was short, and low to the ground, so they didn’t land on the moon, but it was still pretty fun while it lasted. And luckily, it wasn’t enough to stop them in their tracks. Mateo kept driving, but had to swerve to avoid a small group of workers on their lunch break. They didn’t even seem to notice, reinforcing this hypothesis of theirs. “You wearing your seatbelt?”
“Nope,” Ramses answered.
Mateo pulled the bar under his seat, and pushed the seat as far back as it would go. “Ready to eject.”
“Ready,” Ramses confirmed.
The concrete traffic barriers were coming up fast, but he never wavered. He did grip the wheel with two hands now, though, in anticipation. At the very last second, he remembered something from his past that he didn’t think he was meant to. The truth. A look of horror fell upon his face. “I don’t think we’re in a computer!” Crash.
The car stopped suddenly. Both Mateo and Ramses did not. They flew up, and through the windshield. There was a reason those concrete blocks were there. They were trying to prevent people from going over the edge of a ravine. The two of them arched over the barriers, and down that ravine, onto the dirt and rocks below. They lay there, bloody and mangled, for a couple of minutes. Then they stood up, and instinctively began to reset their own bones. Mateo noticed that Ramses’ leg was twisted the wrong way, so he stepped on his foot, and twisted Ramses at the hips to get it back in place. They looked up at the top of the ravine.
“We’re in trouble,” Ramses mused.
“We’re a distraction,” Mateo said. “Come on. Let’s get out of here.”

Saturday, May 31, 2025

The Seventh Stage: Hit the Rock (Part I)

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It’s the year 2508 in the Sixth Key. Big things are happening today. For the last several decades, Cedar Duvall has held primary control over the entire galaxy. He had every right to this, according to just about everyone. It was he who saved everyone’s life when the four original parallel realities were collapsing. The main sequence was different. It was not going to collapse, and still hasn’t. Everyone who was in it during the Reconvergence is out there, living it up in another universe. If they were on Earth at the time, though, copies of them are also here. Every living organism was duplicated perfectly, and transported here along with everyone from the other realities. These duplicates have no hope of returning home. They’re here in this new reality now, and have had to make the most of it. Things were chaotic when this all happened. Trillions of worlds with their own agendas, divided into five civilizations of varying cohesiveness, and now only 400 billion stars to support them all. War for energy distribution was on everyone’s lips, and a small group of leaders had to come together for diplomatic discussions. These talks were successful, and the galaxy went on in peace, even though the diplomats had trouble returning to their homes, and most of them lost all power. Two of them got their power back, and they’re about to get more. Or so they believe.
Following the Reconvergence, the main sequence copies didn’t want to be known by their old nomenclature anymore, so they made the decision to create a new identity for themselves. In keeping with the apparent numerical pattern, they voted, and settled on renaming themselves The Seventh Stage. Their reasoning was that this placed them above even the Sixth Key itself, which referred to all civilizations collectively. This was effective according to some, but not so much according to the supermajority. Even so, it was their new name, and it managed to stick. The real main sequence was back in the old universe, and there, it would stay. The diplomats in charge of the Seventh Stage were a General by the name of Bariq Medley, and his second-in-command, Judy Schmidt. They did not get along all that well, but they weren’t overly antagonistic. In recent years, they’ve grown closer because they’ve had to in order to raise two powerful children.
Clavia and Echo were not really brother and sister, but they didn’t know that. The former was the avatar of a magical tree, and the latter a projected consciousness of, fittingly, a temporal echo. Clavia corrupted Echo, and tried to use him to gain even more power, so he turned the tables on her, and regressed them both to childhood. They now have no memory of their past life, and have been living as twin siblings under Bariq and Judy’s care ever since. Today is their sixteenth birthday, and that changes everything. This whole time, they have been cultivated and prepared to take over for Cedar. It’s time for him to step down. The thing is, though, while this has been in the works for some time now, Clavia and Echo aren’t mature enough to handle the responsibility. At least, their parents don’t think they are. Echo really warped their minds in order to rid the both of them of all evil thoughts, and it has made it difficult for them to develop. They still need their parents, who have experience with this kind of leadership. Bariq and Judy will still be in control here, even more so now that Cedar will be out of the picture. The twins may have other plans, though.
The time has come for the twins to ascend. They’re standing in their ceremonial robes behind the curtains. They’re not the only ones being celebrated and honored today, they’re just the headliner. They have to wait for the other graduates first. They’re trying to not look nervous, but they are. Judy comes up to them, and starts to make minor adjustments to the hang of their robes, none of which will matter in a few seconds when gravity and their movements readjust them anyway. She just wants an excuse to talk to them. “How are you two doing?” she whispers.
“How are you?” Clavia asks her mother. “This day is as important to you as it is for us. I know how excited you are.”
“I’m great. This is what we’ve been working towards.” She breathes, and gives a sad smile to her son. “Echo?”
“It’s not right.” Echo doesn’t agree with anything that’s happening here. Cedar has been a good leader, and it’s not like he made every decision unilaterally. There are way too many people spread across way too many worlds for him to know everything that must be done to keep the joint-civilizations running. Still, he’s been number one this whole time. Doubling that to Echo and his sister, or even quadrupling it to the whole family, isn’t going to be much better. It doesn’t sit right with him. It’s not democratic enough. Unfortunately, it might get worse before it gets better.
“I know it bothers you, but this is the only efficient way to manage the universe right now,” Judy tries to explain yet again. “Even with all of our technology, we’re talking about undecillions of people. If we tried to vote, it would take years.”
Frustrated, Echo takes his mother’s wrist, and pulls it away from his collar. Gently, though. “Then it takes years. That’s what they should have been doing while we were growing up; figuring out how to coordinate a legitimate democracy.”
“Not all of the minor worlds recognize Cedar as the Sixth Key,” Judy says. “Getting them to get on board with a vote will be even more difficult. They simply don’t want to be a part of the new civilization.”
“So we take power instead?” Echo questions.
Judy sighs. “If we hold a vote, and some refuse to vote, it will call the results into question. There would be those who wonder if they truly refused, or if we didn’t let them” She brushes the non-existent dust off of his shoulder. “This way is cleaner. This is how the Tanadama ran things in the Parallel, and it seemed to work for them.”
“They were treated like gods,” Echo reasons. “So is Cedar. So will we once the people realize quite how powerful my sister and I are. I don’t wanna rule with an iron fist. I don’t wanna rule.”
“I’m not talking about this anymore.” Judy remains calm and self-assured.
“If you just look at my proposal—”
“This is your Ascension,” Judy interrupts. She’s been a good mother; kind of caring, but not very flexible. “I won’t be looking at anything today except you two on that stage, accepting your new posts with grace and poise. Do you understand?” she asks with a wide smile. It’s not really fake, but it’s not entirely genuine either.
“Echo, just let it go,” Clavia urges quietly.
The Assistant Stage Manager, dressed in all black, hustles up to them. “It’s time.”
“Okay, you’ll do great,” Judy tries to say.
“It’s really time, right now,” the ASM presses. “Let’s go, let’s go.”
“Okay, go,” Judy says, ushering them towards the curtains.
Echo and Clavia step into the limelight together. The crowd has been cheering for the other graduates, but they cheer much louder now at the sight of them. They smile and wave, just as they practiced. Echo is faking it, of course, but Clavia isn’t all that excited about this either. She doesn’t like the attention. Unlike her brother, she does want power, but she would prefer to operate in the shadows. That’s where all the important business gets done, where people can’t see it...and scrutinize it. She has improved from her original self years ago, but their parents worry that she’s heading back in that direction. Whatever was in her that gave her a weak moral compass is still there. Yet the debate between nurture and nature rages on, because she’s not evil. She’s been raised by good people, and Echo is here to keep her in check. She’s not sure that she agrees with Echo’s proposal for a galaxy-wide democratic republic, but she loves and supports him, and certainly wants to see what he has to offer.
The two of them stand center stage. They’re meant to go over and accept their diplomas and medals from the presider, but that can wait, because this is what the audience wants. That’s not all they want, though. “Hit the rock!” they chant. “Hit the rock! Hit the rock!” This is something that they do. It’s just a fun little handshake that only works with the two of them. Others may be able to approximate the move, but they can’t replicate the grand finale, unless maybe if they integrate certain technologies, like some sort of concussive weapon. Clavia holds her hand behind her ear like she can’t hear the audience. They chant louder.
“Okay, okay,” she relents, using exaggerated gestures since she’s not wearing a microphone. She gets in place in front of Echo, and he does the same. They begin by punching the air between them without touching, but quickly move on to the next phase. Their fists make contact in the middle, and as they’re pulling their elbows back, their opposite fists meet. Then they return to the first one. They go back and forth over and over again, getting faster and faster until it’s just a blur to anyone else, even if someone were to stand right next to them. Faster and faster still, the crowd is going wild. They’ve obviously done this before, but never with this many viewers. The whole galaxy is watching too, not just the people in the auditorium. Faster, faster, until boom! Without speaking, they reach back with both fists at the same time, and bring them back together for one final move. An intense force is expelled from their hands, and spreads out in a sphere, knocking caps off of people’s heads, and a few chairs over. Several people spill their drinks, but they should have known better. It’s not one explosion either. There’s a reason his name is Echo. A second wave, a third, and a fourth crash into the audience to their great delight, followed by a fifth, sixth, and seventh. They could have made more, but given the numerology of the day, limiting it to seven seemed appropriate. Again, they didn’t discuss this beforehand; that’s how in sync they are. They might as well be actual twins.
The enthusiasm remains strong for a few moments afterwards as they continue to smile and wave, but they do sense that it is fading. Deciding that the ceremony should be over roundabouts now, Clavia and Echo take each other by the and, and reach for the sky before a deep bow. Six bows later, they let go, and begin walking down the runway, still encouraging the audience to clap and cheer. The ASM catches up to them in the aisle between the runway and the seating. “You’re not done yet,” she whispers loudly.
Clavia nods. She teleports to the presider, and takes the diplomas and medals from him. She then teleports back to Echo so she can hand him his. They wave and smile some more until the end of the walkway. They slip through the doors under the balcony, and breathe sighs of relief. It’s over. They’re technically in charge of the Sixth Key now. It is expected of them to openly secretly grant all decision-making powers to their parents until they’re considered mature enough to take over in a more official capacity, but that’s not really what they’re gonna do. “You ready?” Clavia asks.
“Let’s do it.”
They teleport away. The Cloudbearer Dynasty has begun.

Friday, May 30, 2025

Microstory 2420: Nordome Network

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Unlike most other themed domes, this is actually a series of domes. I believe the creator wanted to truly make it feel large in scope. While the distance between the “continents” isn’t anywhere near as large as they are on Earth, it still takes some time in those antiquated boats to travel between them. I even think you pass by other, unrelated domes on your way, though you would never know it if you stick to the right heading, because the holographic sky is sensational. It just looks like you’re outside. If you get lost, and sail in the wrong direction, you’re gonna hit the sides. They even have a sprinkler system to simulate rain during your journey, and the sea below you is saltwater, so you get that real oceanic experience. This isn’t the only dome network that works like this. It’s just the one that’s set during the Viking Age. You don’t have to be a Viking yourself—you can choose a simpler life, as a farmer, or a merchant—but you’re at risk of being attacked. You have to protect your settlement as they would have during the 8th, 9th, 10th, and 11th centuries. If you do choose to go on a journey, you have to build or commission your own ship. They aren’t just provided to you. Keep in mind that this is a lifestyle dome experience. You’re meant to stay here for years, and really live the way that these people historically lived. There are no rules, and no planned activities. There’s no anachronistic technology, and you can’t keep leaving and come back. If you have a serious need, they’ll let you go through an emergency exit, and once the issue is resolved, you can go back. So it’s not like a one and done sort of thing, but it’s also not a free-for-all. You can’t spend your days on the boat, then sleep in a nice comfy bed at night. There are no day trips, and they will enforce these rules. I never saw any sort of argument or disagreement, but they were clear. If you really want to get the full experience, it’s probably gonna take you about thirty years. But, I mean, come on, who doesn’t have that kind of time to spare these days? What are you worried about, that you’re gonna die soon? So take a break and learn something. Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it, if you haven’t heard.

Thursday, May 29, 2025

Microstory 2419: Underbelly

Generated by Google Gemini Pro text-to-video AI software, powered by Veo 3
Not to be confused with Underburg. Believe me, you don’t want to mix them up. Nothing could be further from the idyllic, beautiful, pleasant hellscape of suburban America. I don’t understand why anyone would want to live there. I grew up in a town like that, back before the arcologies. It might look nice in old movies and TV shows, but I was miserable. Ravensgate is a real city. It’s full of violence, crime, and the champions that serve as the only protection against these terrible forces. Choose your own adventure. Are you a hero, or a villain? I know this sounds like an ad, and it is. This is the entire reason I came to this planet. My friend casted first, and wrote back with tales of his exploits. He knew that I would like the Underbelly dome. I read all the comic books, and saw all the adaptations. I know what makes for a good superhero story, and I’ve always wanted to be a part of that. It’s funny, back in the day, all these superpowers were fictional. They seemed impossible. The strength of ten men, the speed of a train; normal humans could only dream of such fantastical abilities. And then, as technology progressed, we actually started being able to make them a reality. Nanotechnology alone gives us shapeshifting, invisibility, onboard weaponry, and more. Some things are still off limits, and if you want to have those gifts, you’re gonna need to log in to a virtual world. Flight is impossible. Well, it’s not impossible, but the Superman or Homelander kind is totally off limits. It breaks the laws of physics. A lot of comics have magic, and you can’t do that stuff either. You can’t just turn someone into a frog, or something. Street level heroing is what they call it. You fight bad guys, and help the innocent. Most of them are androids, but they’re as lifelike as any, so it’s easy to forget that, and feel genuine anger towards the former, and empathy for the latter. But I should probably go back to the beginning, because you’re not assigned the powers you end up with. You choose them yourself. But you don’t get to just select from a menu, and upload into your new substrate. No, you gotta design it yourself. You choose the physical attributes of the body. Are you visibly muscular, or are you secretly superhumanly strong? What hair color, eye color, nose shape? You choose it all, and you have to work through the design program to make it look how you want. They don’t give you any ideas about what kind of powers to include either. That’s all you too. You’re only limited to the technology available in the 26th century. You also design your own backstory, which might be decades in the past, or more recent. Maybe you’re a kid who’s just discovered his powers after reaching puberty, or you fell in a vat of acid during a university science experiment. Or you don’t have powers at all, and your character had to invent everything themselves. It’s up to you, but the more complex and complicated the scenario, the longer it’s going to take before you can get out there. I could write a book on this, but you really just have to come try it. You don’t even have to be a hero or villain. You can just be a regular person, trying to survive in the metropolis. Again, this is all you. Right now, it’s just Northwest Ravensgate and Southeast Ravensgate, separated by a river, but they’ve left the nearby domes unused in case this gets to be so popular that it has to expand into new cities. There’s a reason the dome and city aren’t named the same thing. We could really build something here. It may not be real, per se, but if you open your mind, it can be just as exciting as anything else in base reality. This only gets better with more visitors. We can’t do it without ya.

Wednesday, May 28, 2025

Microstory 2418: Paleodome

Generated by Google Flow text-to-video AI software, powered by Veo 2
This is a fascinating historical dome, but I think it can be better. I think they can make it more realistic, and more immersive. What’s the premise here? Well, it’s the paleolithic age, which is part of the stone age. Cavemen are working with stone tools, trying to figure out how to build societies, and engaging in the first (loose) definitions of war. I mean, it depends on how you define war. Were these organized, formal conflicts fought on distinct battlefields? No. But they were more than just two guys swinging clubs at each other during a disagreement. Their language was minimal, but they did make plans, and they did go out to fight together, so I would say that qualifies. The androids have been programmed with very low intelligence, but heightened curiosity, leading them to try all sorts of experiments, many of which don’t go too well. For now, these androids aren’t aware that you’re there. They’re literally programmed to ignore you while you watch from up close. I think they can do more with this. I think they can adjust the visitor’s intelligence as well. I know they do this with that zombie dome, where you can actually be transformed into a zombie. They seem to understand how people can bring themselves back to normal once they’re done with that. I don’t see any reason why the same principles can’t be applied here. It’s cool to watch the cavemen, but I want to be an active participant. I want to feel what it would have been like back then. In this regard, it’s an excellent reenactment. I don’t know exactly what year it’s supposed to be, but it moves in real time. I watched a guy learn how to cut a rudimentary axe-sort of thing out of stone, and that was a unique experience. That android will never do that again. He will never need to learn it again. Fifty years from now, if I go back, he will be “dead”. I’m sure his grandchildren will be starting to conduct their own tests, and learn their own lessons. That’s so cool to me, that we’re watching history unfold—albeit as a best guess based on archaeological evidence alone—and if you miss something, you miss it. There’s no going back to see what someone else saw before you. I think that’s really special. So if you’re interested in getting a glimpse of what Earth was like millions of years ago, you better come now, because it never stops changing.

Tuesday, May 27, 2025

Microstory 2417: Racetrack Dome

Generated by Google Flow text-to-video AI software, powered by Veo 2
I’m gonna say this real slow. This is a racetrack dome, which means there are...racetracks. That’s all it is. It’s hundreds of racetracks just all over tarnation. A racetrack here, a racetrack there. There’s even a track that runs the entire circumference of the dome, which is something like 260 kilometers. That sounds boring to me, but hey, you do you, right? I would much rather stay close to the inner tracks. They’re so much more interesting. The vehicles are electric, obviously, but they’re also electromagnetic. This allows them to do all sorts of crazy stuff, like drive up the wall, or even do loop-de-loops. There are jumps and shortcuts, and drops into rivers of lava. Yeah, this particular dome was chosen for its proximity to a volcano. The volcano isn’t inside the dome, and if there were ever an eruption, there are safeguards in place to seal off the lava flow, and protect the dome. But as long as everything’s copacetic, it’s there. Plus, they have clear emergency procedures in place. I mean, this hasn’t actually happened since I’ve been here, so there’s no way to know how effective their plans are, but they claim to be ready. Of course, the lava they do have is dangerous, as are all of the other tracks. Well, almost all of them. They have bumper cars, and some go-kart tracks too, for the kids, or people who want something a little lighter. If you do get hurt, and don’t want to just jump your consciousness to a new body, they have excellent medical teams on standby. I was never injured, but I did walk in once to find someone having just crashed on one of the traditional intermediate tri-ovals. I heard the collision from the corridor, and by the time I rounded the corner, they were already loading the driver into an ambulance. I asked after him later, and he’s fine; didn’t even have to switch to a new body. I can’t even begin to describe what other kinds of tracks they have here, but if you’ve ever played a racing video game, they’re pretty much all recreated here. They don’t have boats, planes, or spaceships, though. Man, people kept asking about that. I’ll say again, it’s a racetrack dome, not races in general. Look for that in another dome. I’m sure they’re somewhere. I see all these negative reviews from morons who are disappointed when the name alone tells you everything you need to know. Just think it through, and you’ll be pleased with what you find.