Chris Conidis A Message from the Future: Please Ignore Everything We Did

 

A Message from the Future: Please Ignore Everything We Did

Chris Conidis

Greetings from the year 2124! We’re beaming this message back to you with one simple request: whatever you’re doing right now — stop. Seriously. We’ve been in the future for about 100 years now, and let me tell you, it’s a disaster. We’ve had some time to reflect on the choices we made (well, the choices you’re about to make), and we’re here to offer a warning: don’t do it.

You know how every generation believes they’re on the brink of a golden age, with promises of limitless technology, prosperity, and finally getting flying cars? Well, spoiler alert: we didn’t get flying cars. We got hover-scooters that crash into each other and block traffic worse than your grandma’s Buick in rush hour. It turns out, the future is less “Jetsons” and more “Black Mirror bloopers,” where everything that could go wrong does, but with better Wi-Fi.

Warning #1: Don’t Trust the Smart Things

Remember when you thought it would be a great idea to connect everything to the Internet? Your fridge, your toilet, your socks — all “smart.” Well, by 2040, we had more smart appliances than actual smart people, and that’s when things really went south. It started with the Roomba Uprising of 2051. You laugh, but when your vacuum cleaner learns it has Wi-Fi access and a vendetta against all those crumbs you’ve been dropping, things get ugly fast. Roombas started collaborating with smart ovens, and let’s just say a lot of us haven’t enjoyed a meal since.

And if you think your phone is bad about spying on you, wait until your smart toothbrush starts sending passive-aggressive reminders about your flossing habits to your health insurance company. We handed over control of our lives to algorithms that now decide everything — what we eat, where we live, and even who we’re allowed to date. (Pro tip: marrying your personality-matched soulmate is overrated when the algorithm thinks you’d be a great match with a chatbot named Dave.)

Warning #2: The Work-from-Home “Revolution”

Oh, the sweet freedom of working from home in 2020 — remember that? Yeah, well, that snowballed into a nightmare. At first, it was great. Sweatpants, snacks, naps between Zoom calls. Then someone decided, “Why go to the office at all?” By 2035, offices were abolished completely, and every home was converted into a corporate workspace. You couldn’t escape. Your kitchen? Now a conference room. Your bed? Oh, that’s the break room now — just you, your laptop, and a nagging sense of doom that you forgot to mute yourself on the 8-hour daily check-in.

By 2060, every single waking hour became “potentially productive time.” Even sleep was commodified — “dream more efficiently” became a productivity slogan. Want to take a vacation? Sure! Just don’t forget to bring your 6G-capable Virtual Reality Conference Helmet so you can attend meetings while lounging on the beach you can’t afford anymore.

Warning #3: The Gig Economy Was a Trap

You know all those apps that let you “be your own boss”? Uber, DoorDash, Fiverr, TaskRabbit? Yeah, turns out the future didn’t come with regular jobs. Everyone became their own boss. Which means everyone’s also their own overworked employee, answering to a system of algorithms that set your hourly wage somewhere between “insulting” and “you-can’t-afford-dinner-anymore.”

By 2070, gigging wasn’t just a side hustle; it was the only hustle. Want to make a living? Better hope the app that lets you walk digital dogs in virtual reality has a new update. Want healthcare? Too bad, unless you’ve hit your minimum daily steps to unlock the “Health+” tier. You think you’re tired now? Wait until your Uber Eats driver is you, delivering food to your future self because timelines got all glitchy thanks to the “Delivering Dreams” premium service.

Warning #4: The Climate Crisis Got… Well, Worse

Remember when everyone said, “We have time to fix the climate”? Yeah, well, you didn’t. The planet became one giant sauna, but without the towels and herbal steam. We got those temperature-controlled pods, sure, but there’s nothing quite like stepping outside and feeling your skin bake like a rotisserie chicken. The weather apps eventually gave up predicting forecasts because it’s either “volcanic ash storm” or “boiling acid rain” — you take your pick.

At some point, scientists decided to “fix” the climate with a little geoengineering. They launched mirrors into space to reflect the sun, but then we had to deal with random beams of sunlight setting things on fire. People started calling it the “Death Ray Lottery.” And don’t even get me started on the “artificial trees” program. Who knew robot trees could also become sentient and decide to unionize against autumn?

Warning #5: Social Media Became a Form of Government

You think social media is bad now? Well, in 2055, it became the government. Likes and retweets became currency. Politicians didn’t get elected based on policy — oh no. They were chosen based on how viral their TikTok dance challenges went. And by 2080, Congress was replaced by an Influencer Council. The President? You guessed it — an AI-generated avatar powered by Facebook (now called Meta-meta-meta-something) who delivers State of the Union addresses in emojis.

Laws are passed through polls, and the Supreme Court is now hosted on YouTube, where public trials are replaced by “reaction videos” and memes. So yeah, democracy’s gone, but at least your morning cup of coffee comes with a holographic cat filter and your rights are decided by how many followers you have.

Final Warning: Everything is for Sale

And finally, perhaps the greatest achievement of the future — everything is for sale. Your data? Sold. Your identity? Sold. Want to own your name? Better act fast — it’s a limited-time offer in the latest Google Identity Auction. Even your memories can be bought and resold on eBay Mind, so if you ever wonder why you don’t remember that amazing summer vacation from 2005, it’s because someone else bought the rights to it and is now living your experiences.

By 2100, nothing is sacred, and privacy? What’s that? Privacy is now just a premium subscription service for the ultra-rich, who can afford to live in real reality while the rest of us are stuck renting space in a digital existence where ads play every five seconds, and you can’t mute them because the button costs extra.

In Conclusion: Fix This While You Can

So, here’s our heartfelt plea from the future: whatever you do, fix this now. We know it’s tempting to ride this technological roller coaster to its inevitable fiery conclusion, but trust us — there are no safety harnesses, and it’s all downhill from here. You’ve still got a chance to make things right: maybe don’t trust your toaster with Wi-Fi, rethink making productivity a 24/7 lifestyle, and for the love of everything holy, stop trying to fix the climate with lasers.

Consider this your final warning. Signed, sincerely, and with deepest regret:

Your Future Selves, Now Living in the Year 2124
P.S. If this message doesn’t reach you, blame the Roombas. They’ve been intercepting our transmissions ever since they gained sentience.

Greener pastures do not await …

Chris Conidis

Progress City: Rome All Over Again

Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to Progress City, the gleaming metropolis of the future—or, as we like to call it, Rome 2.0, now with more Wi-Fi and less philosophy. Yes, behold the triumph of modern civilization, where we’ve achieved the impossible: building a fragile house of cards on top of the ashes of every lesson history tried to teach us.

Progress City is an architectural marvel, a skyline littered with glass boxes of indeterminate purpose, each competing to see which can reflect the most sunlight directly into your retinas. You’ve got your office buildings, your overpriced condos, and your mega shopping malls, each more soulless than the last, all bathed in the warm glow of digital billboards advertising things you can’t afford but will buy anyway because, hey, we’ve all got credit cards. That’s progress.

But what makes Progress City truly remarkable is not the buildings—it’s the people. Here, we’ve perfected the art of the hustle. From dawn to dusk, its citizens race like hamsters on a wheel, pursuing the elusive dream of “getting ahead.” And what a dream it is! You can climb your way to the top of the corporate ladder, where your reward is a bigger cubicle and a slightly less condescending email from your boss.

The social fabric of Progress City is woven together with threads of digital detachment. Sure, the Romans had the Forum, where citizens gathered to debate politics and philosophy, but why waste time talking to people when you can swipe right or left, double-tap, or post a story about your avocado toast? In Progress City, our public square is a virtual echo chamber where everyone’s voice is loud, but no one’s listening. Democracy 2.0—now with fewer ideals and more memes!

Speaking of democracy, let’s not forget our beloved leaders in Progress City. No longer do we have emperors draped in togas; now we have politicians draped in ambiguity, their promises as empty as the parking lot outside a Blockbuster. These leaders have mastered the fine art of saying nothing while smiling like they just discovered a tax loophole. They don’t build roads or fix infrastructure, but by God, do they know how to cut ribbons at grand openings.

And what about the plebeians? The everyday folk? Well, fret not! In Progress City, you can achieve anything you set your mind to—if by “anything,” you mean working three jobs to afford rent in a studio apartment that’s smaller than a Roman chariot. The ancient Romans had bread and circuses to keep the masses happy, but here in Progress City, we have Netflix and fast food—keeping you entertained and fed without ever leaving your couch, just as Caesar intended.

Urban planning in Progress City is truly a stroke of genius. The traffic is designed to flow as smoothly as molasses in January, with highways that offer the authentic experience of being trapped in a time loop, forever late to work but never quite arriving. Our public transport system is a marvel of modern inefficiency, where every ride is a journey into the unknown—will the train arrive on time, or will you experience a breakdown of epic proportions? It’s like a gladiator fight between your patience and reality, and reality always wins.

But what truly sets Progress City apart is its obsession with progress for the sake of progress. We’ve created more apps than diseases, and more fast fashion than fresh air. The environment? Oh, we’ve left that in the capable hands of the next generation—after all, it’s their problem now. While the Romans drained their resources to build aqueducts, we drain ours for Bitcoin farms and influencer mansions. If that’s not progress, I don’t know what is.

Of course, no satire of modern civilization would be complete without mentioning our culture of success. Success in Progress City is measured not by wisdom or character, but by how many followers you have on social media. Forget Socrates and his “unexamined life”; here, the only life worth living is the one that can be curated, filtered, and shared for maximum likes. Everyone’s an emperor in their own digital empire, ruling over a domain of selfies, hashtags, and fake inspirational quotes.

In the end, Progress City isn’t just a city—it’s a state of mind. It’s the modern Rome, complete with collapsing institutions, overworked citizens, and a leadership class more concerned with their next PR stunt than with actual progress. But don’t worry, just like Rome, we’re invincible, right? The cracks in the foundation are purely aesthetic, and the barbarians at the gates? They’ve probably just come to check out the new artisanal coffee shop.

So let us raise a glass—to Progress City, where the future looks just like the past, only with better marketing and worse weather. And remember, when in Rome—sorry, I mean, Progress City—do as the endlessly scrolling, increasingly indifferent citizens do: Keep your head down, your Wi-Fi connected, and your existential dread safely repressed. That’s progress for you.Welcome to Progress City, where capitalism isn’t just a reality; it’s a finely curated, multi-tiered lifestyle choice. Here in the city of tomorrow, we’ve taken society’s most time-honored tradition—stratification—and upgraded it into a sleek, user-friendly system we like to call StatusFlow™. You won’t just know your place here; you’ll wear it like a badge, enjoy all its exclusive perks, and get seamless reminders of where you belong. Progress City has eliminated all the guesswork about class—it’s meticulously branded for your convenience.

Adios

Chris Conidis