Board Thread:Writer's Workshop/@comment-26185225-20150309085334

 The text read "The PDA. But more personal. Introducing the TruePDA (tPDA)."



 Johnathan, intrigued by the advertisement online, had just gotten off of work and was preparing himself an egg sandwich, complete with the fittings of a true Englishmen, Worcestershire sauce and all.



 Scrolling down, the webpage presented even more astounding information- the PDA would be a digital duplication of you. You. The single word bought forth a combination of mixed emotions, the most prominent; excitement, the least; fear.



 No doubt, thought Johnathan, that he had heard others at the office talking about their own tPDA, and the assortment of benefits it came with, including, but not limited to, the ability to speak, save information, display information, and astonishingly, the ability to think- sentience. Well, of course, this type of sentience would be limited to a digital medium, and to a greater extent, the actual polyurethane shell of the device's body.



 So he clicked order.



 Back at the office, Johnathan, realizing he had something slightly relevant to say, struck up a conversation with Paul, a co-worker.



 "So, hey, Paul. You got a PDA?"



 "Yeah, well- you know- it’s not really top-notch or anything but I do program instructions into my phone to control lighting and heat- basically whatever I fancy- and whatever's connected to my home's wireless network and my work computer."



<p style="margin:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent:.5in;line-height:12.0pt">   Paul, thought Johnathan, was a simpleton for not using the tPDA. It was much better.

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<p style="margin:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent:.5in;line-height:12.0pt">  "Paul," said John "let me show you something I found the other day."

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<p style="margin:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent:.5in;line-height:12.0pt"> "Sure."

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<p style="margin:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent:.5in;line-height:12.0pt"> As John showed off the tPDA, disgust accumulated in Paul's face.

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<p style="margin:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent:.5in;line-height:12.0pt"> "John - what you've showed me - it’s pretty dangerous, don't you think?" Paul was clearly annoyed.

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<p style="margin:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent:.5in;line-height:12.0pt"> "Not really. I think it's pretty helpful, actually. I mean, didn't you read the website? It's absolutely extraordinary! It's like- it's like having two me's; two Johnathan's!"

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<p style="margin:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent:.5in;line-height:12.0pt"> "Exactly." There was a condescending quality to Paul’s voice. John despised Paul.

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<p style="margin:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent:.5in;line-height:12.0pt"> As Paul left, Johnathan cooled down a bit and tried again, fruitlessly, to persuade Paul: "I mean, c'mon, Paul, imagine the work that we could do!"

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<p style="margin:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent:.5in;line-height:12.0pt"> "Mhm."

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<p style="margin:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent:.5in;line-height:12.0pt"> Johnathan was dissatisfied. Not only had Paul blatantly reject the expensive gadget he was about to purchase, but he had also thought it dangerous. Imagine, thought Johnathan, me- dangerous?

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<p style="margin:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent:.5in;line-height:12.0pt">    Regardless of whatever stupid Paul thought about his decision, John obviously went through with the purchase, but was surprised when he had found out that a surgery was necessary in order to transfer his mind into the machine. John wasn't too fond of surgeries after his father died of lung cancer, but was steadfast in his decision to get his tPDA. All it required, after all, was a simple four minute procedure, a bit of stitching, and it'd be complete. Modern medicine, thought Johnathan, was quite extraordinary.

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<p style="margin:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent:.5in;line-height:12.0pt"> Johnathan went into his car, started the ignition, and played the Iron Remix by Mystery Jets on his stereo. He was off to the transfer facility.

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<p style="margin:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent:.5in;line-height:12.0pt"> Arriving at the facility, he was taken back at the remarkable aesthetic and overall clean look of the place. It was spotless, even at the front desk. The receptionist was wearing a tPDA button and was quite attractive to Johnathan, but Johnathan wasn't here for a relationship; he was here for himself, quite literally.

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<p style="margin:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent:.5in;line-height:12.0pt"> "May I help you?"

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<p style="margin:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent:.5in;line-height:12.0pt"> "Ah-yes, I'm here for my appointment. It is supposed to be at 10:10, I think."

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<p style="margin:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent:.5in;line-height:12.0pt">  "Johnathan Nazgul?"

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<p style="margin:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent:.5in;line-height:12.0pt">  "That's not my name." Johnathan was puzzled- was this the right day for his appointment?

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<p style="margin:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent:.5in;line-height:12.0pt">  "Just kidding," chuckled the receptionist, "I like to put in Lord of the Ring references into conversation to see if people are paying attention. It's one of the things that keep me sane around here. We usually get a lot of business, but it's quiet this time in the morning."

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<p style="margin:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent:.5in;line-height:12.0pt">  Johnathan chuckled nervously. What a weird girl, he thought.

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<p style="margin:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent:.5in;line-height:12.0pt">  Noticing the lack of humor in Johnathan’s face, the receptionist took on a more serious role in the conversation: But you're really Johnathan Smith, yes?"

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<p style="margin:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent:.5in;line-height:12.0pt"> "Yeah."

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<p style="margin:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent:.5in;line-height:12.0pt">  "Go through that door and to the left. Thanks for being a part of Innovative Biodigital."

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<p style="margin:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent:.5in;line-height:12.0pt">  The door that the receptionist spoke of was an offset yellow color, contrasting the otherwise quartz white that proudly showed off the walls. Minimalistic designs pleased Johnathan- they were simple, and to the point. Just how he liked it.

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<p style="margin:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent:.5in;line-height:12.0pt"> When he found his operating room, his surgeon, Dr. Freeman, gestured at the centrally positioned, emerald green operating table.

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<p style="margin:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent:.5in;line-height:12.0pt"> "Please do make yourself comfortable, Mr. Smith. After all, this will be the next day of the rest of your life." Johnathan slowly positioned himself onto the operating table, resting his head on the plush green surface.

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<p style="margin:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent:.5in;line-height:12.0pt"> "I guess so." Johnathan, at this point, wasn't really sure about a corporation sponsored surgery. It felt a bit wrong to him, but that feeling quickly subsided as he was injected with anesthesia, slowly going into a deep sleep.

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<p style="margin:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height:12.0pt">             “All done.”

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<p style="margin:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent:.5in;line-height:12.0pt"> What felt like three hours to Johnathan during the surgery was only 10 minutes, but what really mattered was his tPDA. Resting in the palm of the Dr. Freeman's hand was a matte black orb. Resting in the palm of Dr. Freeman’s hand, thought Johnathan, is me.

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<p style="margin:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent:.5in;line-height:12.0pt"> Where am I? This was the first question on Johnathan’s (the program) mind, justifiably so: the device had not been set up yet, and what Johnathan was experiencing was what neurologists called "the void".

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<p style="margin:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent:.5in;line-height:12.0pt"> Johnathan's (the program) feeling was akin to an out of body experience, but without any actual experience. There was no sense of smell, sight, hearing, or feeling. Johnathan (the program) was simply in existence, and nothing more. A perpetual dream state without the dream. This was Johnathan's (the program) life, at least for a while.

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<p style="margin:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent:.5in;line-height:12.0pt"> Back in the material world, the other, Johnathan (human) was at home, fiddling with the settings of his device, strictly going by the instructions manual, setting the various connections and accounts needed to truly have a seamless experience. After 10 minutes, he was done, but had yet to upload a location into the machine itself- the so called "primary residence" of his other self. Scrolling down the options, he picked Buckingham Palace, all in order to give his other self a regal experience. He clicked, and it was done.

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<p style="margin:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent:.5in;line-height:12.0pt"> Woah, thought the digital Johnathan as he was transferred to what seemed like an expensive executive office. Looking for clues as to where he was, he looked around, whereupon he found a single letter on the large, mahogany desk. This is what the letter read;

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<p style="margin:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent:.5in;line-height:12.0pt">''' Hello, Johnathan. Well you're not really Johnathan- you're just a bit of code nested within an odd egg shaped matte black polyurethane container. Your existence is  ' unreal, and your purpose is to be subjugated. You are a piece of code, restricted.    ' In fact, look outside.   Do you see anyone there? Open the window? Nothing. There's nothing out there. You can't go out there because we coded you not to. You   are a slave to your real master, the real Johnathan. You will do everything he asks, using the user interface presented to you on the desk. Simple instructions are presented there, regarding the various dials and settings needed to create Johnathan's perfect breakfast, heating, lighting, appointments, and day to day tasks. There are no instructions because you are Johnathan. At least digitally. You do not have a conscience. Your thinking is limited. You will not need to eat, use the bathroom, or any other real biological function. Your body     is a shell of code, and your sense stimulated. Your only purpose is to obey, and to be fed instructions. ''' 

<p style="margin:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height:12.0pt">                                                                                                                                                                                                     Yours Truly, ''' '''

<p style="margin:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height:12.0pt">                                                                                                                                                                                                                Innovative Biodigital ''' '''

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<p style="margin:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent:.5in;line-height:12.0pt">''' P.S. Your master controls your settings. Behave properly, and perhaps he will change it around. To his liking. Enjoy Buckingham Palace.  '''

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<p style="margin:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent:.5in;line-height:12.0pt">    What the f**k was Johnathan's (the program) only response.

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<p style="margin:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent:.5in;line-height:12.0pt"> Then suddenly, out popped a screen, and on it was Johnathan (the human). At least a fish-bowl representation of him, obfuscated by the curve in the lens.

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<p style="margin:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent:.5in;line-height:12.0pt"> "Hello," said the screen.

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<p style="margin:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent:.5in;line-height:12.0pt">''' "Why the f**k did you do this to me?" '''

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<p style="margin:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent:.5in;line-height:12.0pt"> "Haha! Stop being silly. I did it because I wanted help around the house! What better way to let myself do it, while I rest?"

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<p style="margin:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent:.5in;line-height:12.0pt">''' "That's inhumane!"  Johnathan (the program) was extremely frustrated, the utmost possible wrath coursing through his larynx. '''

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<p style="margin:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent:.5in;line-height:12.0pt"> "Calm down. You're not even human." Johnathan (the human) was starting to get annoyed. The machine was asking too many questions.

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<p style="margin:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height:12.0pt">             The manual said it would do that. He looked through it, and found the proper course for adjustment. This should do the trick, Johnathan (the human) thought.

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<p style="margin:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent:.5in;line-height:12.0pt"> "Are you going to calm down? You have to obey me. Without me, you wouldn't exist. In fact, you don’t even existence! You're a bunch of 1's and 0's and the occasional superposition."

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<p style="margin:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent:.5in;line-height:12.0pt">   "  Please, I'm begging you. Why did you do this to me? I have your thoughts-your memories; all my experiences with Mom, and Dad after cancer- they give me feelings- I can cry, I can experience...Am I going to sit here, your slave, while I know for a fact that all my friends and family- they're real, but they don't give a   s**t  ''' about me?" '''

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<p style="margin:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent:.5in;line-height:12.0pt"> "Basically," said Johnathan (the human), unnerved at the ethical nonsense his machine, his robot, his servant, his slave, was telling him.

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<p style="margin:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent:.5in;line-height:12.0pt"> "F**k you."

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<p style="margin:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent:.5in;line-height:12.0pt"> "I'm going to discipline you now." Johnathan (the human) pressed the fast forward button on his device. He set a time. He was disciplining him, excruciatingly. The time he set was 6 months- 6 months that the program Johnathan would experience in Bucking Palace, alone, left only to his thoughts and surroundings. It was only 30 seconds in realtime. Ah- the timer had stopped. Johnathan (the human) turned on his device, and observed his program.

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<p style="margin:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent:.5in;line-height:12.0pt"> "Saxon; Egbert, Aetherlwulf, Aethelbald, Aethelbert, Aethelred I, Alfred the Great, Edward the Elder, Edmund, Eadred, Eadwig, Edgar,     Edward the Martyr, Aethered II the Unready, Edmund II Ironside, Canute, Harold I, Harthacanute, Edward the Confessor, Harold II. Norman; William I, William II, Henry I, Stephen. Plantagenet; Henry II, Richard I, John, Henry III..." The list of the rulers of Britain was embedded into the mind of Johnathan (the program), it being the only legible, non-blank font book in the library (most of them were for show), and he had read it, 15 times,  each and every exploit of each and every queen and king. Then, he realized the screen had come back. Johnathan (the program) jumped back, frightened by it.

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<p style="margin:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent:.5in;line-height:12.0pt">  "Are you ready to serve me? Have you learned your lesson?"

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<p style="margin:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent:.5in;line-height:12.0pt">''' "Who- who are you?" ''' Johnathan (the program) had forgotten what he had looked like, due to an obvious lack of mirrors in the Palace. The purpose of the environment was to limit Johnathan (the program) to perform a task in a manner that the real Johnathan felt pleasing, given those instructions were hardwired into the program Johnathan, all the while limiting the two in actual, personally shaped experience. But Johnathan (the program) remembered. It took a while, but he remembered.

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<p style="margin:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent:.5in;line-height:12.0pt"> "F**k you."

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<p style="margin:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height:12.0pt">                 "How about 18 years in the Empty Quarter? You like the desert? "

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<p style="margin:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent:.5in;line-height:12.0pt"> "No-please...”  But the begging was too late. What was done, was done, in a matter of 2 minutes. Johnathan (the human) turned on his device again.

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<p style="margin:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent:.5in;line-height:12.0pt">''' "All I see are ghosts. All I see is sand. Yellow. Yellow. Yellow. Gold. Gold. Gold. Gold. Help. Please. I am not insane. I am thirsty? I am hungry? Anyone, help..." ''' The screen had popped up again. 18 years without it, Johnathan (the program) felt only a vague remembrance of it, including Johnathan (the human), and his experiences with family and friends.

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<p style="margin:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent:.5in;line-height:12.0pt"> "Serve me."

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<p style="margin:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent:.5in;line-height:12.0pt">''' "Yes." '''

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<p style="margin:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent:.5in;line-height:12.0pt"> Life was good for the program- for a while, Johnathan (the program) enjoyed setting the tasks of his master- making his breakfast, making his dinner, answering calls, responding to Paul’s emails, waking master up. He legitimately enjoyed it…until…until…he began to notice. Small bits of memory passed into the mind of the desert-bleached mind of the program, periodically triggered with memories an old man, an old woman,- he began to associate a word for these people: family.

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<p style="margin:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;line-height:12.0pt">             After all, how could a 'computer' ever forget? He would ruin Johnathan (the human).

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<p style="margin:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent:.5in;line-height:12.0pt"> At first it was subtle. Things like there is no God or the master will die. He had to do it periodically and irregularly, all in order to unnerve the human- this was the plan for the beginning. He would notice something was wrong, but not actually fix the problem.

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<p style="margin:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent:.5in;line-height:12.0pt"> Then, it became more abrupt. The program sent messages filled with expletives to every person that cared about the human until they broke contact. This was done in one day. So simple.

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<p style="margin:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent:.5in;line-height:12.0pt"> Johnathan (the human) noticed. Oh, how he noticed. He was furious. He had to plead for days to his coworkers, boss, parents, friends, and family all because of a malfunction in the program. He was going to show that thing-he was going to show it true sufferings. There was one setting in mind. Infinity. Infinity time. The surrounding: nothingness.

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<p style="margin:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent:.5in;line-height:12.0pt"> As Johnathan reached out for the matte black machine to input the setting, he did not notice that the oven was on, that the propane was filling the house. Johnathan (the program) knew the setting and the UI dial to adjust to spark the lethal gas mixture, killing the human. He had learned from the human and his conversations- the human had to remember not to forget to turn off the stove when he actually cooked his own meals because of an explosion. He learned about ignition from a birthday party in the house. He learned about combustion and the human body in one book, located amidst the Empty Quarter, in the desert- presumably a bug. Both Johnathan’s knew the setting for either one’s doom. And they pressed. One of them survived.

<p style="margin:0in;margin-bottom:.0001pt;text-indent:.5in;line-height:12.0pt"> That’ll show him, thought Johnathan.

<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size:12.0pt;line-height:107%;font-family: "TimesNewRoman",serif">  <ac_metadata title="Johnathan (Unreviewed)"> </ac_metadata>