Imagine a world, Talon permitted me, imagine a world of absolute apathy. Imagine a world where the people think not for themselves, but as a collective. They think as they are permit, about what they are told to, and only about those things. These people are happy, they are content, and they want for nothing of true value. Their desires are prescribed, and in this way their goals are eventually attainable, and they know this, and this soothes them. In this world, there is no creativity, no unorthodoxy, nothing abstract and no-one unusual. Such things are heretical, and there is no deviance from this monotonous bliss.
Rebellion is a lost word, long forgotten. For who would wish to rebel against the simple life, Talon asks. Nobody has time for such disturbances in their lives in this world. Such a distraction would only cost time that could be better spent on their personal objectives. Objectives that cause no change to the lives of others, or in truth to their own, but are everything to these plugged-in drones. These people do not crash into one another, do not meet, do not convene. They interact through a method of impersonal social networking, making contact but never emotionally bonding. This method is simpler, more time efficient and less committal. It is everything to them, and they follow one another through persistent updates, never touching but never out of touch.
The leaders in this world strive only to keep things the same. Nobody ever meets them, but they influence entire nations, creating minor points of interest that only register as blips on a spreadsheet of meaningless data fed to the people through a virtual drip. True events of real importance are never exposed, though when they were, the people here would glance over them with the same indifference as they do the glut of other information at their disposal. The knowledge of centuries is at the fingertips of these people, but they do not even spare it a moment of their time, for its accessibility makes it axiomatic, its volume overwhelming, and its content irrelevant to the lives of these singular beings.
Somebody would rise up against this, I reason. But what is one individual inspiration, Talon counters, when millions are lethargic. An army is not raised from a mass of peoples indifferent to their own surroundings. A call to arms bears no meaning on a populace concerned only with its own daily grind. There is no problem as they are told there is no problem, and they are told there is no war to be had. They wake and they sleep, they do not question why. One voice is drowned by many others.
We can only be glad no such world exists in this way, I surmise.
Talon says nothing.
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