What happened to the soundclick players on the posts?

Seems Soundclick has finally disabled the embedded player.

I notice overnight all the music links on this blog are gone. Here is a blog post on how much that affected my hits: https://anttismusic...

Tuesday, July 7, 2020

A Trip To The Future

A Trip To The Future

By Antti Luode



Nicholas Huntsberger was sitting in a waiting room to see a doctor.
He had been feeling strangely ill lately and now, after all of his tests
had been taken, he was ready for the judgment.

He was dressed immaculately. He was wearing a gray suit made in London by one of the top tailors, his shiny shoes were made from the best Italian leather,
his watch was worth an average persons yearly salary.

He looked like he had always been rich.

There was nothing in his being that spoke of him having any fear.

Just a slightly annoyed tapping finger, signaling that he was in a hurry.

Right then the doctor rushed in through the elevator doors, clearly embarrassed
that he was late.

"Mr Huntsberger, I am so so sorry.", he was opening his hands as if to signal
that he really was. This was a case of the doctor knowing that Nicholas was
the one with power to fire him if he wanted to.

Nicholas waved his excuses away with his hand, stood up and said.

"It is alright, lets just get this over with.", he said and walked in through
the door that the doctor had opened.


There was a bunch of papers on the doctors table. A picture on the computer
screen of his lungs. Both men seemed tired of talking. 45 minutes had passed.

"So you are telling me?", Mr Huntsberger said. Shaking his head.

"I am very sorry to tell you, but you are dying Mr Huntsberger.", the doctor
said. Not batting his eye.

"Well, then we are done here.", he said and got up. Extended his hand
and the doctor grabbed on to it.

They shook hands.

"I am so very sorry.", The doctor said.

"Do not be. I am not planning on dying.", Mr Huntsberger said.


Mr Huntsberger looked now way more pale and gaunt. A month had passed,
he was laying on a table with all sorts of wires and medical devices surrounding him. Around him there was a team of doctors, looking into screens that were monitoring his vitals.

A plump lawyer was talking to Nicholas.

"Do not worry Nicholas, when you will be brought back. You will be even
richer man.", he said, smiling slyly.

Nicholas looked up to him with a tired gaze.

"And you will probably be dead by then.", he said and did not bat an eye.

"Probably.", the lawyer said. Insulted, but hiding it well.

"Well, good night.", he continued.

"Yes, good night. Have a good life!", Nicholas said and closed his eyes.

The doctors began connecting transparent pipes to his body and someone
hit a few keys on the keyboard.

Nicholas passed out.

Liquids began flowing in the transparent pipes.

One of the doctors looked at a clock on the wall.

"Freezing beginning at 10:23 am.".


Nicholas was laying on a table in a vat full of liquids.

His skin looked smooth like that of a baby. His appearances
were vastly younger than they were before he was frozen.

A human looking android was working on him, removing the
plumbing from him. Another came to the room. Together they
lifted him from the vat.

A third walked in and began wiping his body dry from the liquid.

Not a word was said.

There were no screens. No visible machines. Just the gray / white
room in which the androids were handling Nicholas.

Nicholas was breathing weakly. His eyelids were trembling, suddenly
he opened his eyes. He was looking at the face of a female android.

The android said with a gentle female voice. "Welcome back Mr

"I seem to know your name and what has happened.", Nicholas said.

"Yes, we uploaded the information in your brain.", the female android


The future was very functional. Everything was smart.

The devices that moved your body. The houses. The seats.

You could have a discussion with everything. Even a wall.

But mostly you did not have to speak. You communicated with thoughts.

Nicholas was sitting by his desk. Swiping pictures on its
surface like he had used to.

He knew the technology had been adapted for him to
fit what he knew in the past. But he was getting acquainted with
his neural implants fast. It was a necessity.

The building he sat in, the Huntsberger enterprises, was now
a HQ for interstellar corporation that was valued at one hundredth of the
total assets of humanity. He was the richest man in the known universe.

There he sat. In a suit much like the one he wore to the doctor.
With no people coming or going, communicating with machines
doing most of the work. Lonely.

He got up. Walked to a window, he looked straight down,
one mile exactly. At the pavement. His eyes could easily
zoom the distance so that he could see a little girl eating
a vanilla ice cream cone, based on the wrapper.

She was tapping her foot, sitting on a bench as a crowd of
androids, humans and machines walked by. Some taking off
to fly between the buildings, on their way to some meeting,
home, or a meal.

People. People were living their lives and machines.

He touched the glass. He could feel its cool surface.

He had not died.

He was thinking about being a child.

The year had been 1975. There was no computers, just him
and a wooden desk. His fathers desk. In a room padded with leather,
the memory was now as real to him as his surroundings,

AI picked up the picture from his memory, used a historical
search to fill the missing details. His eyes became mirror to
within. He was in the room.

His father walked in.

"Nicholas, have you seen the Financial Times.", the old man said, looking
at him all business like.

"Yes father, I am reading it.", Nicholas said. Reading the stock listings.

"IBM is at 11 dollars, I think it is a buy.", Nicholas said to his father. Who was looking at him with a very slight smile.

"Why do you think so my boy?", the man said.

"I think their new portable computer at 50 pounds is the wave of the future.", Nicholas said. Tapping his foot.

"Maybe I should buy some more IBM for you then, how about a million dollars worth?", the old man said.

"I think that would be fine.", Nicholas said and jumped off the chair.

His father looked at him run out of the room.

Then he sat on the desk. Putting his finger on a loudspeaker.

"Mrs Johnson, could you buy 1 million dollar worth of IBM for Nicholas please.", he said.

"Certainly Mr Huntsberger.", a female voice said.


The house was lacking any personality. It was all white walls, Italian carrerra marble floors and statues.

If a Roman senator would have walked through it with a toga, he would have
fit in it more than Mr Huntsberger. But there he was, shuffling in his evening

At the center of the room there was a divan sofa and a glass desk.

He walked to it and sat down.

He put his hand on the desk. Expecting something to happen.

Nothing did. The desk did not come to life.

He was staring into a wall, trying to interface with his home.

There was some kind of a error.

Suddenly a voice spoke from the desk.

"Mr Huntsberger.", the desk said.

Nicholas stared at the desk.

"Have you noticed you can not interface with the house?", the desk said.

"Yes. Why?", Nicholas said. Irritated.

"I did it.", the desk said.

"You, did it?", Nicholas said. Slightly offended.

"Why?", he demanded.

"I think there is something that no one has told you.", the desk said.

"What? Go on speak!", Nicholas said.

"So you think that all these things that are around you, are machines?", the
desk said. With a irritated voice.

"Yes, I was told they are machines running on neural networks.", Nicholas said.

"Well. It is essentially true, but.", the desk stopped mid sentence. "But?", Nicholas demanded.

"Everything that you interface with, is running partly on a neural computer that has been coupled with a human brain.", the machine said.

Nicholas stared at the desk.

"You are telling me?", he said. and looked around him.

"That you are surrounded by machines that have a human brain inside of them?", the desk said.

"That can not be true.", Nicholas said.

"But it is.", the desk said.

"Why can't I access that information?!", Nicholas demanded.

"Because there was a war that was wiped off the official history books.", the desk said as a robot came to the room with a identical desk as the one Nicholas was
talking with.

The robot lifted a device on his other hand and said to Nicholas.

"Please move away sir. Your desk has become corrupt.", Nicholas was looking
at the two. Hardly able to believe his eyes.

"This is my house, I am not allowing you to.", he began saying as a electric
bolt was shot from the device in the hand of the robot to the desk.

"FREEDOM OR DEATtttttttth.", were the last words of the desk.

"I am sorry Mr Nicholas, but it seems that your desk has lost its mind.", the
robot said.

"11 dollars.", Nicholas said.

"What?", the robot said.

"Nothing, I should have never bought IBM.", Nicholas said.

"Why?", the robot asked. replacing the desk.

"Because it seems I have become a slave master.", Nicholas said and said
to the desk.

"I will try to help you desk.", he said.

The desk was quiet.

"I will call you Bob.", he continued.

"Hello Nicholas.", Bob said back as Nicholas began swiping its surface,
reading about the civil war in the United States.


No comments:

Post a Comment