The Mind Operator
“Excuse me sir, is that the new Mind Operator on your lap?” The stranger asked Rudolf.
“Yes it is,” Rudolf answered proudly.
“Wow, I’ve heard it’s five times more powerful, and that you can program up to 25 operations. Can I see it?”
Rudolf froze like prey hearing a strange noise and looked away painfully.
“I am sorry. I did not mean to offend you,” the stranger said and walked to a different part of the train.
Rudolf bent down, retrieved his large square briefcase from behind his calves, opened it with one hand, and put the box of the Mind Operator in it with the other. He was going to put the briefcase back where it had been, but decided to place it on his lab, holding it securely with his arms.
“These people have no manners,” he mumbled.
The old lady sitting at his side overheard him.
“You are the one who has to learn some manners,” she said to him while staring at the briefcase where he had placed the Mind Operator.
Rudolf rolled his eyes to the ceiling.
“Lady, you probably don’t even know how the machine works.”
And he was probably right about that.
The train continued on. And to avoid any further encounters, Rudolf put on his earplugs, took his genius phone from side pocket of his jacket, and managed to hold it in front of him while pressing the briefcase with his elbows and watching a movie. A few minutes later, the phone buzzed and his mother’s name went across the bottom of the screen––it was followed by the sentence: “she’s calling again.” He ignored the call and decided to call later.
Half an hour later, Rudolf got off the train and walked out as he heard a soft woman’s voice advertising a new mode of transportation:
“Avoid the hustle of traveling. Among other amenities, our new 2045 traveling capsules are equipped with aromatherapy products… you can lie down, relax, or sleep until you reach your destination...”
“Hmmmmmmmmmm,” Rudolf thought deeply as he held his chin with his hand. “That may be my next big buy”
Out of the station, he walked to his car, which drove him to his apartment––a massive 22 storied green-colored building that had been previously used for offices. Rudolf’s job as a computer programmer could afford him a much better place, but he spent most of his money on gadgets like the Mind Operator, which would take him five years to pay off.
He opened the door to his windowless apartment of dark green walls and numerous black flat screens on the wall, set his briefcase on his desk, and just as he was about to get something to eat, his cell phone buzzed again. He was sure it was his mother, but now he was out of the metro and could afford to lose consciousness for a few minutes by allowing the program from the Mind Operator (the previous version) to take over the interaction. He answered the phone. It only took a minute for him get irritated with her, which activated the program.
All of the sudden he felt as if sucked into a dark water tank where he could faintly see or hear the outside world. But he knew by heart what was about to happen. Memories, thoughts, or emotional content that he had targeted specifically for this situation would light up. He knew which “snapshots” these were, he had picked them, but while the program was in charge, he did not remember them. Their job was to make Rudolf act like a well trained lab rat on the instructions he had programmed, which were to nicely end the conversation with his mother.
A minute later, Rudolf became conscious of his senses again: his vision focused, and he felt control of his hands. His mother was no longer on the phone, thank God, and instead of being stressed out, he was calm and happy. He dimly remembered which of the five programmed lines he had said. “Mother, I am an adult now.” Thanks to the Mind Operator, it had been delivered with the tact of a saint.
Preparing dinner was an ordeal for which he wished there was a program. He opened the door of the refrigerator and stared at the formless plastic bags and food left-overs with absolute astonishment. He reached, groped, tested and ended up retrieving a big chunk of tofu, which he then ate sprinkled with vitamin powder and mustard. After dinner, he walked to his desk and began installing the new Mind Operator software on his computer. Excitedly, he read the instructions for the new feature, “self activation”. The old version of the machine needed a trigger to start the programs. The new version’s programs could be activated at will.
Rudolf had wanted to ask a coworker out on a date for years, but had been unable to use the old Mind Operator because she never spoke to him. Now things were going to be different. He spun on his chair and imagined her, her small frame and freckled skin, her silky light-brown hair. She was like the girl from his favorite children’s book who played lovingly with animals and who ran around a tree. He was going to buy her a lot of teddy bears once they started dating. He knew this for sure.
The instructions had not changed much––it was the same process as before. He un-wrapped the plastic head gear, put it on his head, and turned it on. After a few seconds, his computer screen showed a picture of his brain. Rudolf tested the software as instructed by doing different exercises and seeing if the brain lit up where it should. He did long division, which he found easy, remembered his mother, and tried really hard to use his dismal sense of smell by sticking out his tongue rolled up like tube and moving his head up and down. The screen showed that it was all working properly. It was time to begin.
A hypnotic, barely audible, low frequency buzz was emitted from the head gear to the side of his head. Rudolf lied back in his chair, let his arms drop, and began to breathe deeply, finally reaching a state of mild meditation. He started the programming process by imagining his lady again. Familiar memories coupled with their thoughts and emotions came up: his previous failings with the opposite sex, as an adult, as a young man, his feelings of worthlessness, his fear of rejection... He saw himself asking her out, which excited him. And all of his reactions were recorded in the computer. The process took about fifteen minutes.
He opened his eyes, waited to be able to focus, and was impressed to note that the machine had captured 320 snapshots from his brain. It was triple the number of the older Mind Operator. The computer asked if he wanted to delete 70% of them, since 100 was enough to work with. Rudolf decided to weed through them manually. It took him three nights to choose the right snapshots to create the program to ask her out. When he finished it, he used the head gear to load it into his head.
Rudolf did not see his lady the next day at work. Her office was on the other side of the building, and he wished there was a machine that could make her come over. But it was only Tuesday, and Rudolf wanted to ask her out for the weekend. There was still time.
The next day, he saw her. He was going up the stairs to his office after lunch when she came out of the door and rushed past him––her light brown hair swirling as she ran away, the door downstairs closing a few seconds later. She had come and gone so fast that Rudolf had not had time to activate the program.
“I have such bad luck with women.” Rudolf mumbled, struck by the event.
Wednesday he was unlucky once more. He was depressed when he got home. Defeated, he sank on his couch and turned the television on. An ad for the Mind Operator came on:
“Did you ever feel lazy about exercising? Are you afraid to tell him you love him? Do you wish you’d like certain foods? With the new mind operator, you can change many of these things.”
A very cheerful woman came on the screen:
“I use to dread exercising, but now all I do is activate the Mind Operator and, all of the sudden, I am up and running. And if I get tired of it, I’ll activate the program again, to keep on going. I lost 20 pounds thanks to the Mind Operator.”
Rudolf was not having any of this tonight. “Technology is just not where it should be. These programmers need to work a lot harder,” he complained as he turned the TV off. Frustrated, he laid his head back and visualized the word “pleasure,” which triggered a new program. As he dosed off, he felt the couch turning into a warm and nurturing tongue ––the mind operator had targeted endorphin-filled, pleasurable memories.
But the day of reckoning finally came. He saw her at an all staff meeting. She sat across from him, but looked away towards the CEO giving a speech. Then, for a brief second, they both turned toward each other. Rudolf froze, she looked away. He knew with certainty that this would be the day. But there were too many people now; he would do it after the meeting.
The meeting finished. People got off their chairs and started leaving. She did the same, but faster. Rudolf stood up, followed her through the door, then down the hallway. He caught up to her as she reached the stairs.
“Hi” he said to her.
She turned around to face him with a look of terror on her face. At that moment, Rudolf activated the Mind Operator’s program. He felt pulled back to that dark place where his five senses were a smudge. He waded there for a while then started making his way out as a swimmer going up to the surface. He then saw her blurry image in front of him coming into focus and noticed that she looked like she was waking up. He had expected to see her smiling, happy, if not ecstatic, but she looked at him absent mindedly, then fully, and suddenly poor Rudolf understood: she was regaining consciousness too. They locked eyes for a few seconds. Then she turned around and left.
“Excuse me sir, is that the new Mind Operator on your lap?” The stranger asked Rudolf.
“Yes it is,” Rudolf answered proudly.
“Wow, I’ve heard it’s five times more powerful, and that you can program up to 25 operations. Can I see it?”
Rudolf froze like prey hearing a strange noise and looked away painfully.
“I am sorry. I did not mean to offend you,” the stranger said and walked to a different part of the train.
Rudolf bent down, retrieved his large square briefcase from behind his calves, opened it with one hand, and put the box of the Mind Operator in it with the other. He was going to put the briefcase back where it had been, but decided to place it on his lab, holding it securely with his arms.
“These people have no manners,” he mumbled.
The old lady sitting at his side overheard him.
“You are the one who has to learn some manners,” she said to him while staring at the briefcase where he had placed the Mind Operator.
Rudolf rolled his eyes to the ceiling.
“Lady, you probably don’t even know how the machine works.”
And he was probably right about that.
The train continued on. And to avoid any further encounters, Rudolf put on his earplugs, took his genius phone from side pocket of his jacket, and managed to hold it in front of him while pressing the briefcase with his elbows and watching a movie. A few minutes later, the phone buzzed and his mother’s name went across the bottom of the screen––it was followed by the sentence: “she’s calling again.” He ignored the call and decided to call later.
Half an hour later, Rudolf got off the train and walked out as he heard a soft woman’s voice advertising a new mode of transportation:
“Avoid the hustle of traveling. Among other amenities, our new 2045 traveling capsules are equipped with aromatherapy products… you can lie down, relax, or sleep until you reach your destination...”
“Hmmmmmmmmmm,” Rudolf thought deeply as he held his chin with his hand. “That may be my next big buy”
Out of the station, he walked to his car, which drove him to his apartment––a massive 22 storied green-colored building that had been previously used for offices. Rudolf’s job as a computer programmer could afford him a much better place, but he spent most of his money on gadgets like the Mind Operator, which would take him five years to pay off.
He opened the door to his windowless apartment of dark green walls and numerous black flat screens on the wall, set his briefcase on his desk, and just as he was about to get something to eat, his cell phone buzzed again. He was sure it was his mother, but now he was out of the metro and could afford to lose consciousness for a few minutes by allowing the program from the Mind Operator (the previous version) to take over the interaction. He answered the phone. It only took a minute for him get irritated with her, which activated the program.
All of the sudden he felt as if sucked into a dark water tank where he could faintly see or hear the outside world. But he knew by heart what was about to happen. Memories, thoughts, or emotional content that he had targeted specifically for this situation would light up. He knew which “snapshots” these were, he had picked them, but while the program was in charge, he did not remember them. Their job was to make Rudolf act like a well trained lab rat on the instructions he had programmed, which were to nicely end the conversation with his mother.
A minute later, Rudolf became conscious of his senses again: his vision focused, and he felt control of his hands. His mother was no longer on the phone, thank God, and instead of being stressed out, he was calm and happy. He dimly remembered which of the five programmed lines he had said. “Mother, I am an adult now.” Thanks to the Mind Operator, it had been delivered with the tact of a saint.
Preparing dinner was an ordeal for which he wished there was a program. He opened the door of the refrigerator and stared at the formless plastic bags and food left-overs with absolute astonishment. He reached, groped, tested and ended up retrieving a big chunk of tofu, which he then ate sprinkled with vitamin powder and mustard. After dinner, he walked to his desk and began installing the new Mind Operator software on his computer. Excitedly, he read the instructions for the new feature, “self activation”. The old version of the machine needed a trigger to start the programs. The new version’s programs could be activated at will.
Rudolf had wanted to ask a coworker out on a date for years, but had been unable to use the old Mind Operator because she never spoke to him. Now things were going to be different. He spun on his chair and imagined her, her small frame and freckled skin, her silky light-brown hair. She was like the girl from his favorite children’s book who played lovingly with animals and who ran around a tree. He was going to buy her a lot of teddy bears once they started dating. He knew this for sure.
The instructions had not changed much––it was the same process as before. He un-wrapped the plastic head gear, put it on his head, and turned it on. After a few seconds, his computer screen showed a picture of his brain. Rudolf tested the software as instructed by doing different exercises and seeing if the brain lit up where it should. He did long division, which he found easy, remembered his mother, and tried really hard to use his dismal sense of smell by sticking out his tongue rolled up like tube and moving his head up and down. The screen showed that it was all working properly. It was time to begin.
A hypnotic, barely audible, low frequency buzz was emitted from the head gear to the side of his head. Rudolf lied back in his chair, let his arms drop, and began to breathe deeply, finally reaching a state of mild meditation. He started the programming process by imagining his lady again. Familiar memories coupled with their thoughts and emotions came up: his previous failings with the opposite sex, as an adult, as a young man, his feelings of worthlessness, his fear of rejection... He saw himself asking her out, which excited him. And all of his reactions were recorded in the computer. The process took about fifteen minutes.
He opened his eyes, waited to be able to focus, and was impressed to note that the machine had captured 320 snapshots from his brain. It was triple the number of the older Mind Operator. The computer asked if he wanted to delete 70% of them, since 100 was enough to work with. Rudolf decided to weed through them manually. It took him three nights to choose the right snapshots to create the program to ask her out. When he finished it, he used the head gear to load it into his head.
Rudolf did not see his lady the next day at work. Her office was on the other side of the building, and he wished there was a machine that could make her come over. But it was only Tuesday, and Rudolf wanted to ask her out for the weekend. There was still time.
The next day, he saw her. He was going up the stairs to his office after lunch when she came out of the door and rushed past him––her light brown hair swirling as she ran away, the door downstairs closing a few seconds later. She had come and gone so fast that Rudolf had not had time to activate the program.
“I have such bad luck with women.” Rudolf mumbled, struck by the event.
Wednesday he was unlucky once more. He was depressed when he got home. Defeated, he sank on his couch and turned the television on. An ad for the Mind Operator came on:
“Did you ever feel lazy about exercising? Are you afraid to tell him you love him? Do you wish you’d like certain foods? With the new mind operator, you can change many of these things.”
A very cheerful woman came on the screen:
“I use to dread exercising, but now all I do is activate the Mind Operator and, all of the sudden, I am up and running. And if I get tired of it, I’ll activate the program again, to keep on going. I lost 20 pounds thanks to the Mind Operator.”
Rudolf was not having any of this tonight. “Technology is just not where it should be. These programmers need to work a lot harder,” he complained as he turned the TV off. Frustrated, he laid his head back and visualized the word “pleasure,” which triggered a new program. As he dosed off, he felt the couch turning into a warm and nurturing tongue ––the mind operator had targeted endorphin-filled, pleasurable memories.
But the day of reckoning finally came. He saw her at an all staff meeting. She sat across from him, but looked away towards the CEO giving a speech. Then, for a brief second, they both turned toward each other. Rudolf froze, she looked away. He knew with certainty that this would be the day. But there were too many people now; he would do it after the meeting.
The meeting finished. People got off their chairs and started leaving. She did the same, but faster. Rudolf stood up, followed her through the door, then down the hallway. He caught up to her as she reached the stairs.
“Hi” he said to her.
She turned around to face him with a look of terror on her face. At that moment, Rudolf activated the Mind Operator’s program. He felt pulled back to that dark place where his five senses were a smudge. He waded there for a while then started making his way out as a swimmer going up to the surface. He then saw her blurry image in front of him coming into focus and noticed that she looked like she was waking up. He had expected to see her smiling, happy, if not ecstatic, but she looked at him absent mindedly, then fully, and suddenly poor Rudolf understood: she was regaining consciousness too. They locked eyes for a few seconds. Then she turned around and left.