Within the sport of adjusting to those new types of chaos, some are higher positioned than others. Typically strain is much less on privately owned firms that wouldn’t have to publish revenue targets. Ikea, as an example, has modified tack. As a substitute of setting out particular targets for the yr, it has a set of “eventualities” to provide the enterprise wiggle room because the outlook modifications. It means acknowledging that broadly completely different outcomes are attainable. - FT
People: In-flight rawdogging (SFW!). FabCities. North Korea hair business. Weed use in france - reaches 50% of 18-64. French newspaper in the 18th, and werewolves. Books edge indexing.
Tech: Fictitious law firms attack crytocurrency scams victims. Polyfill supplychain attack. More than Ikea, uncertainty in decision-making. Clothing for privacy. Anti RF clothing grows.
Denmark introduces livestock carbon tax.
Random: the Talweg. Glacier flour for good looking prints. A robot face, made of human foreskin - WTF, really. Frog saunas.
Futures: “Assembling tomorrow(s)”. A zine from the Sustainable Futures Lab (PDF example). EIT Deep Tech Talent Initiative, Tech Radar.
AI: AI-deepfaked “trompe l’oeil” clothes. Cost of AI training over time. “Future you” - MIT lets you talk with your future self. Fake politics influencers.
Shadows of Influence
In a crowded café in a city where anonymity had become as rare as a unicorn sighting^1, Julian sat hunched over his laptop, the glow of its screen illuminating his furrowed brow. He was a digital consultant, a job that required him to navigate the minefield of social media personas and online realities. Today, he was particularly fixated on a rising star of the influencer world: Amandine Le Pen. Her videos, slick and sparkly, were an odd mix of glamour and far-right rhetoric, and Julian was convinced she was a deepfake. He was on a mission to prove it.
As he scrolled through Amandine's latest post—her face morphing into a smile that seemed just a fraction too wide for comfort—he chuckled at the thought of how these fake influencers were the trompe l’œil of modern politics, appearing substantial while being as hollow as a drum^2. Who was manipulating whom? It was all a game of shadows, one that felt increasingly like a French card game where the players were more likely to bite than bluff.
“Hey, Julian,” came a voice from the café's entrance. It was Lisa, his colleague, who was holding a device that looked suspiciously like a futuristic piece of fashion tech. “Check out my new OHMNI wear! It’s designed to shield against data mining.” She spun around, the fabric shimmering like a disco ball. “It’s like wearing a fortress.”
“Does it come in ‘not-a-cult’?” Julian quipped, raising an eyebrow. But he was intrigued. The clothing promised not just style but protection in an age where digital currency scams—complete with faux lawyers popping up like weeds—were rampant.
“Seriously, you should think about it,” she urged, plopping down across from him. “With all this deepfake chaos, we might need outfits that can hide more than just our figures. You know, like emotional armor.”
“Emotional armor… or runaway design?” he mused, leaning back. “We’re creating tech that evolves on its own while we’re busy playing the role of the naive villagers in a werewolf epidemic^3. You know, the kind that gets bitten and doesn’t even realize it.”
Lisa laughed. “Next, you’ll tell me we need a frog sauna to save our sanity!”^4
“Don’t mock the frog sauna; it’s a brilliant idea. If only emotional distress could be cured with steam,” he said, tapping away at his keyboard. “Imagine a world where we could just sit in a steamy room and let our worries evaporate.”
“Or drown in them,” she smirked, but then her expression shifted. “Speaking of which, I just had an interaction with a chatbot that simulated my future self. It was weirdly insightful. Almost like therapy.”
“Or a clever marketing ploy,” he replied, eyes narrowing. “We’re just one emotional interaction away from someone starting a religion based on pizza deliveries. You know, ‘In crust we trust.’”^5
The conversation flowed, each absurdity revealing another layer of their reality, until Julian’s phone buzzed—a notification from the Future You tool. It was a reminder to take a break and practice mindfulness, a suggestion that was starting to feel less like self-care and more like a digital leash. He glanced at Lisa, who was still rambling about the benefits of raw dogging life in the age of distraction.
“Maybe we should just go for a walk,” he suggested. “Get some fresh air before the algorithms decide we’ve had enough of free will for the day.”
As they left the café, Julian couldn’t shake the feeling that they were all just characters in a complex game, manipulated by unseen forces. And as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows that danced like specters, he wondered what parts of themselves they had already lost to the deepfake world.
**Footnotes:**
1. Anonymity and unicorns are both highly sought after and rarely found—like good wifi in the middle of a forest.
2. The paradox of modern politics: shiny on the outside, empty on the inside. Much like a chocolate-covered Brussels sprout.
3. A historical reference: because who doesn’t enjoy a little 18th-century horror with their coffee?
4. Frog saunas: a strange but oddly comforting thought. If only they were also effective for humans.
5. A potential tagline for a pizza joint, but perhaps better suited for a cult.