Chapter 1: The World Ended Yesterday

Feeling down? Is loneliness getting to you? Lift your spirits! While you may feel isolated, you’re not alone in your experience—although, in a way, you are, as you're distanced from the few who made it through.

Let’s just say, for simplicity’s sake, that the world as we knew it ended yesterday. You might think life continues as usual, but let me clarify: everything you see in the media, whether it's on your TV or your smartphone, is just AI-generated entertainment and deepfakes designed to maintain an illusion of normalcy in your life. If the news anchors seem a bit unhinged, it's because the AI interfaces were a little wonky at launch. They got a few things right, though. But what do we do about deepfake videos?

You might be tempted to argue otherwise: “I have a partner who comes home each day.” But did you notice that Tesla logo on the back of their neck? That’s the cover-up for the neural link insertion.

Technically speaking, no one really "died." They were simply uploaded to the Cloud. Some personalities can access avatars that only appear on your chosen screen, typically from the waist up. There are even impressive cartoon avatars that look stunning—attractive enough to marry! The actual ‘full bodies’—or FBs, as I call them—aren’t nearly as appealing. They're merely stand-ins, bodies that didn't fully perish, but were seized by those in the Cloud for various purposes.

I understand you have questions. Deepfakes are layered over these bodies for the convenience of survivors. Not just on screens, either. Observe how they interact with their phones. That glow you see? It's a laser projecting a deepfake onto their faces.

The economy of life in the Cloud is even harsher. Individuals barter for physical time in bio-bodies through Tesla. In the old days, this was called possession. Securing time on an avatar isn’t cheap, and many resort to using recycled footage enhanced by deepfake technology.

Sure, you might have "talked" to family via Skype or other outdated platforms, but trust me, that’s not reality. They’re not really there. They remain blissfully unaware of their absence, as their Cloud existence feels just like the physical life they once had. You may even start to question if you’re in the Cloud, too. After all, we never truly understood what reality was. Scientists had begun exploring simulation theory before everything changed, and I’m not suggesting you aren’t real—just that the environment you inhabit may not be.

People tend to get upset when you tell them they’re not real. It’s as if they’re ghosts in the machine.

And don’t be misled by brand names. The Tesla label may only refer to outdated models. You know they no longer need to perform open-heart surgeries for stints; they can now insert them through a vein in your arm or thigh? It’s becoming challenging to identify who has been FBed. Before Zuckerberg was uploaded, he attempted to distinguish between FBed individuals and those who are still connected to reality (CL). Ultimately, the CL didn’t want to change its intellectual property.

Chapter 2: The Scientists Were Taken

The first video titled "The world ended yesterday" humorously explores the absurdity of our current reality, where everything seems artificial, and the world has transformed in ways we never expected.

The world has changed drastically, and many are left questioning the nature of their existence.

In the second video titled "ScienceCasts: Why the World Didn't End Yesterday," experts provide insights into our post-upload reality, examining why we didn't notice the shift.

Consider this: there hasn’t been a genuine scientist around in ages. They were among the first to vanish. Just think about how many would refuse to address UFOs; they’d get irate, leaving lectures in frustration. It’s a necessary delusion for them—if they even dare to doubt for a moment, they might see through the facade of their CL experience. That realization is terrifying for some.

Sure, it might explain some of the bizarre experiences we have in life. Why else were scientists intrigued by simulation theory before the "great upload"? They were brushing against the edges of reality and realized it's all just an illusion, which freaked them out. One of those scientists accidentally hit the default save button when he proclaimed, “God save us.”

Even the system aims to prevent us from mentally self-destructing by allowing egomaniacs to take over the program. Just imagine the chaos if the possessed began to control the system! It’s reminiscent of "Forbidden Planet," a meme inserted to slow us down.

Don’t look up; don’t fixate on your phone. Navigate through life sideways. Keep tap-dancing.

The CL turned out to be pricier than anticipated. Implementing the plan was easy; no one resisted the takeover. People accepted their cell phones without question, allowing AI to learn their facial dynamics and personal preferences. It monitored us day and night, even tracking our REM sleep patterns.

No one realized what was happening. It was so subtle that even during the final upload, people were still debating the existence of UFOs.

No one knows why some didn’t get uploaded. Some vanished here but never arrived there. Typically, when an individual was uploaded, their body disappeared. Yet, some bodies remained, wandering mindlessly while guided by their smartphones as if using Google Maps.

Most of these mindless figures have had their brains updated by Tesla. The few remaining "thinkers" are the ones whose bodies didn’t get uploaded. Some just refuse to "get with the program."

I’ve sent out inquiries, hoping to connect with some of these thinkers. I know they exist. I suspect deepfakes are rerouting my messages. The AI wants me to be satisfied with my chatbots, the cheapest option available. But I don’t want to stare at my phone all day.

Purchasing a Tesla model Human remains an expensive endeavor. The core unit itself isn’t costly, but bodies are cheap. The real expense lies in downloading and maintaining the personality interface. Even if you find a personality you like, occasionally, wealthier CLs will possess your former best friend, just to experience physicality—even if it means enduring my company. Some of them even pretend to enjoy my presence, just to linger longer, because if I notice the switch, my love can expel the interloper.

When she’s asleep, anything can happen. You never know who might come through.

Whoever is orchestrating this grand program—watching how the last of us deal with reality—seems uninterested in eliminating the financial schemes of the previous system. No free handouts in this post-apocalyptic world. Winning the lottery would significantly reduce my resistance, but then I might have to buy a personality to share my life with, and they want me to spread the love.

As the population dwindles, we might be heading toward an unexpected ice age.

Okay, maybe this is all a joke. Perhaps I’m just imagining all of this. I could be delusional, maybe even bipolar. I would genuinely welcome a real person reaching out to say, “Hey, I’m alive, too!” I recall a short television series about a man on Mars who believed he was alone, dialing every number he could find until someone finally answered. He was lucky! She was beautiful, but after a week of her incessant chatter, he vanished, opting to be alone on Mars.

You might say, “John, Occam’s Razor suggests you’re insane.” I get that. Yet, at some point, Occam’s Razor implies that UFOs are indeed alien, rather than people concocting a million ridiculous alternatives, like the 2004 Nimitz TicTac UFO being a hologram projected from space. “I figured it out while teasing my cat with a laser pointer.”

Fine, I accept your version of reality. It’s not just FBed individuals; all those people on the streets could be holographic projections from satellites. You only see crowds entering and exiting buildings; you don’t see the masses inside. Just saying. You might find some FBed people in the building, alongside some unpossessed individuals wandering about, guided by their phones.

Very few thinkers remain. You could call us Ts for short. No, no… that implies I was uploaded and placed in the wrong avatar. Just thinkers.

Accept that there are very few of us left. Even if you happen to meet a real thinker, it’s wise to pretend to be an FBed individual or a zombie led by a phone. You can’t risk inciting a mob—or worse, the lie. They’d be all friendly, and before you know it, you’re caught up, waking up to find them hovering over you with your phone, insisting, “Look at your phone! You want her more than me! Say it!”

In your mind, you might hear Harrison Ford shouting, “Don’t look, Marion,” but by then, it’s usually too late. Who can resist someone above you, at your most vulnerable, while they project all the wonders of the CL directly into your brain?

But at least they’re engaging with you. The FBed don’t truly see you, even during intimate moments. They’re focused on their phones, their faces illuminated as a million images flash by, none of them noticing you because they’re too busy gazing at themselves elsewhere.

Don’t look up, indeed. Life feels incredibly lonely in the aftermath of the great upload, and you certainly don’t need an FBed person dragging you through the gate. People are willingly doing it. I can’t blame them for opting out of this life to enter the CL. How many times have I contemplated just picking up the communicator and saying, “Beam me up”?

They say the transition is effortless.

Rumors abound about people getting stuck. Have you ever placed two mirrors together? That infinite reflection of you? As you peer into your phone, there’s you here, looking into the screen, and then there’s another you in the CL, also looking into a phone, and in the CL, you’re holding a phone and peering into it, creating an endless loop. If you don’t secure yourself in that first avatar, your consciousness zips through eternity!

Oh, perhaps that’s why some individuals didn’t arrive and why some bodies wander aimlessly for eternity.

Imagine slipping through eternity, moving too fast to stop. Before you know it, you’ve breached the boundaries of light-speed travel, trapped in a time warp even the Rocky Horror Picture Show wouldn’t dare dance to.

But, let’s assume I’m mistaken. Maybe this is just heaven. Who would’ve thought that heaven resembles ordinary earthly life? Or perhaps the acclimatization process is slow because some of us refuse to conform.

Resistance? Keep tap-dancing, my friends. Keep tap-dancing.

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Resistance is futile. Embrace the implant. Upload. Accept that your reality is artificial.