This is something I started scribbling down some time ago for some dumb reason. I'll never finish it, but the needless edginess gave me a chuckle today so I'll drop this right here.
You read the morning news. Quickly scan through the headlines to find the worthy stuff, just need to evade the clickbait, swerve between the enticing blurbs of text to find the nuggets of information you oh so crave. It would be a shame if somebody at a board meeting decided you needed to see at least one pair of tits during any single glance at their page.
- I wish we could just jerk off those idiots every time they read one of our pieces. Ya know, build some habits, like a dog
- Oh Doug, do I have some news for you. We can jerk off their brains. One look at the morning nightlife event roundup and BOOM they will bust it all over themselves like teenagers left alone for a weekend
- Oh I'm liking the sound of that, Jeffrey. You're on track for a quick promotion buddy!
And of course they do.
You wade through the swamp these dull cold handjobs, not even enjoying it anymore. It hasn't been enjoyable for a long time now. A hooker at the local motel who by this point knows in which rooms the mattresses are too worn out for doggystyle. Even she does it with more passion.
It's a sadistic ritual you engage in every day. But you can't fight your physiology. Your brain betrayed you, exposing an interface for generating pleasure. Pleasure without substance, just bright flashes of blurry light.
The interface accepts expressions. But only unsimplified ones. You have to exert a token amount of mental effort to earn your bliss. A picture of spread buttcheeks on a sandy beach? BOOM I COULD FUCK THAT! Mystery solved, here's your dopamine. Only 2% can complete this game? HA I ACCEPT YOUR CHALLENGE I AM A HERO! This trivial reduction is the absolute minimum we can do as human beings. And the problem is, the interface accepts all expressions. And it will reduce and simplify every damn single one. If it's simple enough, it will deliver a steaming hot load in a nanosecond.
- You know what Jeffery. If we can jerk them off. Then maybe we could like...uhhh...give them blue balls? Old Lorna at the motel says that's very effective with her clients
- Wow you're in for a treat then, Doug. Hold on to your suspenders!
YOU WON'T BELIEVE WHAT'S IN THIS BOX! *click* *sigh*
It's your fucking brain. Tired from zapping itself with impulses it knows it doesn't want. Exploited, bruised and beaten.
How can we compete in an environment where every single interaction is tailored to deliver the most pleasure possible? A sound of somebody clicking a little heart under your post has long surpassed Pavlov’s wildest dreams of conditioning sentient beings.
Your children can't read news, they can't post pictures of their breakfasts yet, they are safe...right? I sure hope so. That'd be all fine and dandy if there wasn't an infinity-dollar industry built on exploiting the interfaces of our kids. Their brains still raw, still tender to the touch of the world. Still building those pathways for perception and problem-solving. Perfect targets for feeding them easiest things ever to digest. Shapes, colors, funny sounds. All perfectly engineered to elicit that cute giggle and a wiggle of those tiny little hands above moms iPad, so they could in 49.57% of the cases accidentally tap on the next video on the sidebar, which is conveniently exactly a toddlers arm wide.
You don't spoil them with new toys or trips to Disneyland, it all should be good. Well, too bad some savvy businessmen from New Jersey are spoiling your kids primary pleasure centers with BARNEY FARTS ON ELSA SING ALONG PART 7 KIDS SONGS TUNES LULLABY.mp4
Lorna sits down and watches the TV after a long but uneventful day of work. Jerked off two Malaysian businessmen, stole a pack of Luckies from one of them. Men, so predictable. So easily manipulable by sex. Pathetic.
"FUCKING SNOWFLAKES AT IT AGAIN. DID YOU SEE THIS SHIT, HORACE?! THOSE LEFTIES ARE TOTALLY OFF THE RAILS!"
Snowflakes? Lefties? Lorna doesn't have enough cells in her bootleg-absinthe-singed brain to even being comprehending basic politics. However, she does have enough brain cells to comprehend "us vs. them". Fox & Fucks have been jerking off her, at this point rudimentary, thinking circuitry to distinguish basic shapes, colors and words.
- The. Left. What is it?
- The. Right. Is it bad too?
- N..no. Right...gg..good.
- Good. Very good. Now, let's practice those long words we talked about. Left?
- Snowflakes! Cucks!
- FUCK. AGAIN. FROM THE TOP GODDAMNIT!
Maybe even BARNEY FARTS ON ELSA SING ALONG PART 7 KIDS SONGS TUNES LULLABY.mp4 has more nuance.
Jeffery wakes up, takes a long look at himself in the mirror and starts shaving with his Executive Razor from RealManShaveClub. He feels great. He feels like a Hemingway hero shaving with an axe during an expedition while peeping at his reflection in a safari Jeep side mirror. “You’re so fucking cool, Doug” they say. “Imagine how amazing everyone will think you are”. The brain makes a tiny leap from the heroes of fiction to Jeffery's real life and just like that - he has been fed another nugget of the hellish sugar that is dopamine.
Seven notifications are waiting for Jeffery on his phone. He sees the LED in the corner of the glass rectangle flashing and it sends his carefully balanced endocrine system into a fiery nosedive. Are those friends? New job prospects? Doesn’t matter, it means that somebody paid attention to him. Well, actually never mind. It’s just regular spam and application update notifications. But that doesn’t even matter. The Pavlovian system here lacks nuance, the treats are given away even for such minuscule tasks as noticing a flashing LED. Pleasure without organs.
Doug wakes up in his condo and his driver takes him to the office. During the drive he pulls up his tablet to play a little bit of ClickerMania Deluxe. Pressing colorful buttons. Some numbers are going up. Very good. But they aren’t going up fast enough! FUCK! Will need to shell out $5,99 for another booster pack. It’s nothing for Doug, but it gives him pause. Ka-ching! The booster pack is here, the numbers are going up faster than ever, the feeling of endless achievement is here! Nothing Doug will do during his whole day of managing a multi-billion dollar company will be even remotely satisfying as this. He is jacked in into a primitive circuit that was implemented by a bored CS student who learned a little bit of Java over a weekend.
No effort to design, no nuance, it’s the most forgiving thing ever. Just trigger the release in any way and you’re golden. Of course, a little polish goes a long way, but the exploitation principles are as simple as a path to success in ClickerMania Deluxe.