Productivity

Productivity

May 30, 2011

Productivity.

Ratio of output over input. Even small improvements dramatically change our lives.

In the seventies and eighties, productivity grew one and a half percent annually in the U.S. Then fourth gen computers and IT software hit the market and finally the technology was easy to use.

So guess what – everybody got a whole lot more productive.

Over the next twenty years productivity rises two and a half percent per year. And that despite three wars, a dot com collapse, and the Great Recession.

InSyte can change everything. I’m not talking about turning a crank faster on a machine. I’m talking about fundamentally altering the way we all think and work. InSyte can do for the twenties what the computer and IT did for the nineties. Drive productivity gains off the scale.

Fundamentally this will occur because of the improvement of access to information.

High Concept

High Concept

My last post describes the high concept for my novel, inSyte. In my novel, an ex-Navy SEAL – Mitch - discovers how to beam data directly to his optic nerve. The year is 2020 and the actual cell phone electronics are typically painted onto a fingernail in the form of e-resin.

His software is always on, churning away at the input data – ie, reality. A regression analysis informs Mitch (thru a hallucination, of course) that a great holocaust is coming based on events put in place by a local politician. So the dilemma for Mitch is – should he kill the man? Tough call especially since Mitch is in love with the man’s daughter. Meanwhile, a paranormal killer is stalking Mitch to make sure he does not bring down the politician’s plan.

All the while inSyte is affecting him, taking over his mind like a drug.

Here’s an excerpt from my novel that shows how inSyte technology would allow you to see into men’s hearts, be in all places at all times. Sort of like God.

Mitch knew sleep wasn’t coming so he opened his mind to the Grid. Spread your little wings and fly away. Fly away, far away.

I need warp speed, Scotty, and I need it now!

He’d told Woody he couldn’t see into men’s hearts or be all places at all times. But that wasn’t true. Not exactly. He could tap into camera feeds and blogospheres and eyes and ears and he clenched his fists into the sheets because now he was tripping, really cruising, wandering the earth like Kwai Chang Caine in a rocket ship.

Times Square, the Vegas Palazzo, McKenna Beach, Midtown Tower Tokyo, One Churchill Place, he was in the stratosphere, the fucking exosphere, one camera feed to the next to the next, he tore across stepping stones like a presence, like a true being that was being everywhere at the same time, a part of all things. He sailed oceans climbed mountains scaled buildings ducked through tunnels bounced into satellites above the planet holy crap through a dorm room are those real and people were in every position on everything everywhere doing working playing thinking and it turns out he did know their thoughts after all.

Slammey28 screamed in a tweet that his next move was to pocket his baby Glock and hunt down the ex. The forty caliber knew how to get a bitch’s attention and she ought to know better than to fuck with a man’s truck come on, who does that? TheBiffer18 slipped silk boxers inside out so his member would be caressed by only the finest material during his lap dance in the city and BarbE-Dahl69 said Hallelujah Brother, she loved to see a man have a good time in this world. HarryPitts41 had a rotting cat in his kitchen and was there anyone else out there who had to kill their feline cuz it wouldn’t stop pissin in the sink and if so, how did they get rid of the carcass in an apartment community? DangerWillRobinson suggested a contractor-grade lawn bag, you could get ‘em at the local Home Depot. madEllen19 sobbed, how could bubbuh26 leave her in second life after the adventures they shared, what kindda man just up and runs off after slaying dragons together and making love at the Lost Gardens of Apollo? mamapower58 toyed with the idea of suicide since the C took her son she just couldn’t stand it, oh Lord did anyone out there hear her, please God anyone at all, oh please, oh please, I’m begging---

Captain! She can’t take much more of this!

Where are we going?

May 22, 2011

Consider this - what would you do if you could access all the information on the net ... by merely closing your eyes? Very real possibility in a few years. Here’s how.

Most of you have seen those glasses you hook up to your ipod and view the content on what supposedly look like a 50” HD TV. Vuzix makes a few versions and refers to their product as a “head mounted display”.

So it’s really just another screen to view whatever’s on your smartphone screen. That includes surfing. Someone could ask you a question and you could Google it and see the answer. Pretty simple.

Let’s assume that a decade from now you’re able to Bluetooth your screen data to any pair of glasses. Or contact lenses. Or directly into your optic nerve. Let’s assume voice recognition software improves and now when someone asks you a question you see the answer automatically.

Let’s call this concept, inSyte.

Twenty years ago most of us did not have cell phones. Today most of us feel naked when we leave the house without it. Imagine having inSyte on all the time. Sort of does for your mind what a military hydraulic suit does for your body.

inSyte would become an extension of your own memory. In the cloud. You would become so dependent that without it you would feel empty. Unplugged.

And what about the social order? By and large every society has class separation and that separation is based on education.

What about seeing into men’s hearts? Well, not too difficult with next generation live tweets and FB postings. Not to mention an always on surveillance society with eyes everywhere.

Starting to get the picture?

How about the impact on productivity? Our economy had a nice boost in the 90’s when PCs hit an inflection point in terms of power and ease of use.

What would inSyte do to our economy?

I’ll explore these concepts in my next post.

New experience

OK, so this is a new one for me. A blog. I just published my novel, inSyte, on Amazon. I'm getting very positive reviews - go check it out. Man, it's early. Better get to work.

He indentured the young Russian girls into prostitution, forced them to live in squalor, and routinely beat them into submission. He told the young girls their parents sold them, they were forgotten by their families, they were his property. The twelve year olds believed this absolutely. Some older tuna were skeptical. (Cheslov was long accustomed to weasel wording by fools such as Charles in an attempt to conceal distasteful business). Occasionally he had to carve an older girl and leave her body in the common quarters for a few days. Charles made sure her dead eyelids were open. He told the living tuna he could see them through the dead tuna’s eyes. Charles always rubbed his belly with a hearty laugh when he told this part of his tale. He confided with Cheslov that the empty eyes really closed the deal on the other tuna. Calmed them the hell down.

Charles enjoyed his vodka with fresh grapefruit juice so Cheslov purchased a pewter spoon just for their trips. Essential for anyone who enjoys eating grapefruit, his well-balanced citrus spoon had a finely serrated edge so fruit separated easily from the membrane.

First Post

I'm going to tell you a story about my unique, disturbing, and somewhat likeable antagonist - Cheslov...

Cheslov once had a man on his vessel, Charles Johnson, a successful American businessman. Charles was a prominent citizen in the community, active in the megachurch and local politics. Charles promoted family values and thought the best way to reduce teen pregnancy and venereal disease was pure abstinence. If not factually accurate, well, it didn’t matter. God did not want American teenagers to fuck before marriage and He surely didn’t want man to lay with man or woman with woman. Hell, it was right there in the bible for anyone to read.

The megachurch where Charles was assistant minister believed he made his living as a wholesale shoe distributor. Business took him to Russia two to three times a year. For years Charles lured beautiful young Russian teenagers to America with empty promises of stardom as models and entertainers.

Though a man of questionable ethics himself, Cheslov harbored a protective streak when it came to children. Like a pack leader, he possessed a strong paternal instinct. One that he did not entirely understand.

For fun, Cheslov pretended to be a smuggling agent who could help Charles snare girls by acting as his point man in Russia. He took Charles fishing hundreds of kilometers into the Gulf so they could enjoy secure business discussions. On the second bottle of Stoli, Charles really opened up.