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The third person is comforting because it's in control, which feels really nice when relating events that were often so out of control.

The dream's scattershot plot is made increasingly linear and lucid until a psychologically pleasing resolution is achieved at the moment of full consciousness. Every morning, the neural scanners transmit the current dream-state data into a program that generates a real-time virtual projection into which he seamlessly rouses. It's worth a try.Įvery night, neural scanners map his dreams while he sleeps so that both his conscious and unconscious thought patterns can be effectively modeled. Maybe if I take refuge in the third person I'll find some sort of distance or insight or at least peace of mind. Maybe the first person is the wrong way to tell this story. I'm sorry, despite receiving the best education available to a citizen of the World of Tomorrow, the grammar of this situation is a bit complicated. But it would have, if I hadn't done what I did. We live in a world where, sure, there are iPhones and 3D printers and, I don't know, drone strikes or whatever. Today, in the year 2016, humanity lives in a techno-utopian paradise of abundance, purpose, and wonder.Įxcept we don't. It all happened, more or less exactly as envisioned. The stuff of world's fairs and pulp science-fiction magazines with titles like Fantastic Future Tales and The Amazing World of Tomorrow.

All that dazzling, transformative technology our grandparents were certain was right around the corner.

But, okay, you know the future that people in the 1950s imagined we'd have? Flying cars, robot maids, food pills, teleportation, jet packs, moving sidewalks, ray guns, hover boards, space vacations, and moon bases. It's hard to know how to start telling this story. And it's all my fault-well, me and to a lesser extent my father and, yeah, I guess a little bit Penelope. But it never should've turned out like this.

That means nothing to you, obviously, because you live here, in the crappy world we do have. So, the thing is, I come from the world we were supposed to have.