Tag: news

Cortex – Further Investigation by Thought Commissioner

Shares in Cortex, the world’s leading provider of Thought Assistants, plummeted yesterday as news broke that the Government Thought Commissioner was investigating them again.

Cortex marketed Intermix in late 2222. The basic Intermix unit allows users implanted to manage multiple thought-based conversations and collaborative tasks with others who have similarly implanted units.

A variation of the basic unit, IntermixPlus, can also automatically back up a user’s private thoughts if they request this. It is understood that a ThoughtNet marketing company has been using harvested private thoughts to target user promotions.

Cortex denies that any of its data security measures have been breached and has assured users that they have not passed on stored thoughts to any third party. It is expected that the Thought Commissioner’s investigation will last several months.

A Feline Perspective

“Inspector, if all humans were like you, neither Cortex nor the Thought Commissioner would have much work to do,” Cat said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I shot back, narrowing my eyes at my mechanical companion.

Cat gave a faux innocent look, his whiskers twitching. “Well, given the almost total lack of thinking that goes into anything you do, it would be a rather peaceful universe. No thoughts to manage, no thoughts to back up, and certainly no thoughts to steal.”

“Very funny, Cat. I’ll have you know I think quite a lot!” I retorted, crossing my arms defensively.

“Oh, absolutely,” Cat continued, his tone mocking. “Like the time you thought it was a good idea to ‘improve’ my system by pouring a cup of coffee into my circuits. Or when you ‘thought’ we could outrun a Mud Lizard on a hoverboard.”

“Those were… learning experiences,” I mumbled, feeling the heat rise to my face. “Besides, that coffee incident was a genuine mistake.”

“Mistake, yes. Genuine, maybe. Beneficial, certainly not,” Cat replied, rolling his eyes. “The Thought Commissioner should actually thank you. You’ve shown that their services aren’t universally necessary.”

I sighed, realizing there was no winning this argument. “Alright, Cat, you’ve made your point. Now can we please focus on the matter at hand? We need to figure out what Cortex is really up to.”

Cat’s eyes gleamed. “Already on it, Inspector. While you were busy thinking about not thinking, I hacked into Cortex’s preliminary reports. Seems they were trying to mask some very interesting data streams.”

“Data streams?” I asked, leaning forward.

“Yes,” Cat replied, his tone now serious. “Data streams that suggest they’ve been doing more than just backing up thoughts. They might be using those thoughts for experimental purposes.”

I groaned. “Why is it always experiments? Can’t anyone just use technology for simple, honest purposes anymore?”

Cat patted my leg with a Rubabnon paw. “There, there, Inspector. If it makes you feel better, your lack of complex thoughts makes you completely uninteresting to Cortex. You’re safe.”

“Super, thanks, Cat,” I muttered. “Let’s just get to the bottom of this before someone decides my thoughts are worth investigating after all.”

As we continued our investigation, I couldn’t help but reflect on Cat’s words. Maybe he was right—sometimes, thinking too much just got in the way. But then again, in our line of work, it was the lack of thinking that usually got us into the most trouble​​​​.

The End of Amazonia as a Free Conglomerate

In the not-so-distant future, the G-Soft Corporation, having firmly entwined itself into the fabric of universal life with its monopoly over communication, collaboration, and domestic technologies, took a step that sent shockwaves through the financial cosmos. The opening of the Bank of Amazonia was its latest stroke of genius—or tyranny, depending on who you asked. This move wasn’t just another expansion; it was a masterstroke that effectively placed G-Soft at the helm of all the separate dominions that made up the Free Conglomerate of Amazonia.

Amazonia, once a sprawling network of independent trading hubs known for its free-market utopias, found itself under the new management of an entity whose president was as mysterious as the dark side of Pluto. The presidents of Amazonia’s dominions, who once prided themselves on their autonomy, woke up to find their economies inextricably tied to the whims of President G-Soft, a shadowy figure who communicated only through thought aircasts that were as enigmatic as they were rare.

The transition was as swift as it was controversial. On the eve of the Bank of Amazonia’s grand opening, citizens of the conglomerate tuned into their ThoughtPlay devices, eagerly anticipating the first thought-cast from President G-Soft in over a decade. The message was brief: “Welcome to a new era of prosperity under the guidance of G-Soft. Your finances are now safer than ever.”

Overnight, the Bank of Amazonia became the center of all economic activity. G-Soft’s proprietary currency, the G-Coin, was the only accepted form of payment, rendering the diverse currencies of Amazonia’s dominions obsolete. The once-thriving local markets immediately struggled to adapt to the new digital economy, with many lamenting the loss of the personal touch that had characterized Amazonian trade.

The dominions’ presidents, in a bid to reclaim some semblance of control, formed a coalition to challenge G-Soft’s hegemony. They planned a summit on the neutral grounds of the old Earth, which had been turned into a museum planet. Their plan was simple: unite and negotiate better terms with G-Soft. Unfortunately, their efforts were hampered by the fact that they had to use G-Soft’s own communication tools to organize the summit, leading to a series of unfortunate and comical miscommunications.

On the day of the summit, President G-Soft finally made a public appearance—or so it seemed. The figure on the stage was nothing more than a holographic thought projection, a digital puppet controlled by the real president from an undisclosed location. “Dear esteemed leaders,” the projection began, “I understand your concerns, but let’s not forget the efficiencies we’ve gained. Why, just last week, I saved fifteen minutes on a board meeting thanks to our ThoughtPlay integration!”

The summit ended with no resolution, but it did spawn a universe-wide meme frenzy. “Saving fifteen minutes on eternity,” became the rallying cry of those opposed to G-Soft’s rule, a tongue-in-cheek homage to the president’s out-of-touch remark.

In the years that followed, Amazonia’s dominions grudgingly adapted to their new reality. The Free Conglomerate of Amazonia was free no more, now just another cog in the G-Soft machine. Yet, in the vibrant markets and bustling trade hubs, whispers of rebellion stirred. Traders, hackers, and even disgruntled G-Soft employees spoke of a new frontier beyond the reach of G-Soft’s influence, a place where Amazonia could be reborn.

And so, in the shadow of G-Soft’s towering digital empire, the spirit of Amazonia lived on, a beacon of hope for free traders and independent souls across the cosmos. They knew the road ahead was fraught with challenges, but as one clever hacker put it, “If G-Soft can turn thought into action, we can surely turn action into freedom.”

The end, or perhaps just the beginning, of Amazonia as a free Conglomerate.

The Inspector and Cat Discuss the Sinosovurean Situation

The Inspector and Cat were sitting in the cramped, yet oddly cozy interior of the Inspector’s interstellar vehicle, with Cat perched on the dashboard, meticulously cleaning his whiskers with a paw, while the Inspector fiddled with a holographic display showing an alarming rate of Sinosovurean population growth.

“Cat”, said the Inspector, “Have you seen the latest reports on the Sinosovurean expansion? They’re spreading faster than an AI virus in a Brainium coding camp”.

Cat responded,  “Indeed, I have. It seems Earth’s contraception techniques are about as effective as a screen door on a spaceship. What did they expect, handing out Earth-style contraceptives to a species for whom mating is as casual as a nod and as simple as a paw shake”?

“Precisely”, intoned the Inspector, “It’s like trying to use a net to stop sand. Earth’s methods are no match for Sovurean… ermmm, ahh…enthusiasm shallwe say. We might as well be using water pistols to fight a forest fire.

Cat chuckled as best one could when also purring and said, “I suppose humans have found the one scenario where “multiply and conquer” wasn’t a metaphor. And now, the universe is getting a lesson in Sinosovurean social etiquette”.

The Inspector responded, “The irony is, this whole debacle could have been avoided with a bit of cultural research. But no, we charged in, contraceptives blazing, assuming everyone reproduces at the same awkward, cumbersome pace as humans do”.

“Well, to be fair”, said Cat,  “Who could have predicted that a handshake equivalent for them would lead to such… prolific outcomes? Earth’s First Contact protocols clearly didn’t include a chapter on “When Handshakes Lead to Offspring.”

“Yes, It’s an oversight that’s turning the Milky Way into the Milky Nursery. We need a new approach, something that respects their culture but also gently suggests that not every greeting needs to be so… fruitful” replied the Inspector.

Cat, being as superiorly helpful as ever said, “Might I suggest a universal greeting protocol that involves a respectful nod from a safe, non-reproductive distance? Perhaps even a nice, sturdy pair of gloves for every human ambassador”?

The Inspector laughed and said, “Gloves might indeed be the key to the risks of galactic overpopulation. Who would ever have guessed the future of interstellar diplomacy would be decided by an accessory designed to keep our hands warm”?

“Indeed”, said Cat, “And maybe Earth can learn something from this. Next time, instead of contraceptives, they could try researching etiquette practices on newly discovered planets with a civilisation very different from ours on it.. Far less awkward for everyone involved”.

“An etiquette manual for the cosmos… I like it, Cat”, said the Inspector. “It’s decided then. I’ll propose it to the Galactic Council. “The Universal Guide to Polite and Non-Reproductive Greetings.It’ll be a bestseller”.

Cat responded, “Actually I have already proposed it to the Galactic Council. They are considering my detailed proposal as we speak”. 

“What, WHAT”, yelled the Inspector, “How dare you submit my idea!”

“Your idea? Your idea”, responded Cat rather sarcastically, “You have no ideas on anything other than how to steal my ideas and claim them for your own”.

“That’s absolutely so not true”, I have lots of good ideas.

“Give me a for instance”, said Cat.

“I refuse to engage in a pointless debate with a robot designed to serve me”, yelled the Inspector.

“I rest my case,” said Cat just before the Inspector grabbed him by his rubberised tail and explained a new idea he had just had about how long robot cats made of Rubanon could withstand the temperature in the ship’s waste incinerator.

The Inspector and Cat Discuss Unicorn Racing

Aboard their spaceship, the Inspector and Cat were discussing the upcoming Sinosivurean Cup Unicorn Race.

“Cat, have you heard?” said the Inspector, Peakoch Thom’s son, Zephyr, is going to race in the Sinosovurean Cup on Starhoof. I have a feeling they’re going to win. You know, I’ve always had a knack for spotting a champion unicorn.”

Cat responded dryly “Oh, indeed? The same ‘knack’ that led you to bet on a three-legged Tortoisan in the Galactic Hurdles last year?”

The Inspector waved his hand dismissively “That was an outlier. But this time, it’s different. Starhoof has the lineage, the agility, and with Zephyr’s riding skills inherited from his father – it’s a sure win!”

“So now you’re an expert in unicorn genetics as well as racing” queried Cat, “I’m almost impressed. Almost. Let’s not forget your ‘expert’ navigation skills that once led us straight into the middle of a fusion war on Truktion.”

Inspector: “That was a minor miscalculation, Cat. But this – this is a matter of intuition. You can’t compute the heart of a champion, the bond between a rider and his unicorn.”

Cat replied sarcastically “Ah, intuition. Is that what you call it? I was under the impression it was blind optimism mixed with a dash of ignorance.”

The Inspector ignored Cat’s rudeness, after all, he was just a machine, and then smiled confidently, “Mark my words, Cat. Zephyr and Starhoof are the duo to watch. This is going to be a race for the history books.”

Cat in a mocking tone responded, “I’ll mark your words, alright. Along with all the other wildly inaccurate predictions you’ve made. Maybe I should start a log – ‘The Misjudgments of a fatuously pompous inter-galacticTax Inspector.'”

The Inspector chuckled knowingly then said “Laugh all you want, Cat. But when they cross that finish line first, you’ll see. I’ve got a sixth sense for these things.”

Cat stretched his front legs out in front of him and as he settled down for a nap muttered just sufficiently audibly, “You don’t have sense, sixth or otherwise. There are amoebae with more sense than you. Still, I suppose time will tell, maybe Starhoof will win. Eventually, you must surely get something right.”