tech
Curious tech and technology from the realm of science and science fiction.
Twenty messy documents, one command, and the front page I actually wanted
Twenty documents went into a folder. One command later, twenty clean Markdown files and a single index page came out, in 1.29 seconds on my laptop. That's the headline, and the bit I'm proudest of.
By Gautam Atmakuri11 minutes ago in Futurism
What's hot in AI: 28 to 30 Oct
Midweek had one loud theme. One camp spent it plugging every app into every other app. The other camp put a bouncer on its smartest model and gave security the guest list. If you'd rather watch than read, the latest Vibe News episode is on YouTube ( https://youtu.be/VzJsORxG7Xk ).
By Gautam Atmakuria day ago in Futurism
The Last Notification
Nobody remembers exactly how things unfolded the day the phones stopped. There were screams, cries, and an eerie, awkward silence. Some say there was a woman in Tokyo, standing beneath a train station clock, who stood frozen, screaming and crying under its shadow for hours. Others insist it was a little boy in London who began crying and shouting, “No! How could this happen?” before the rest of the world even understood what was going on.
By Kenneth cruz2 days ago in Futurism
The Day Valentina Died
Callia's phone wasn't working. That was not surprising, because it never did. Carrie had found an old phone in a coffee shop, either discarded or lost and not worth replacing. The battery had died, and even after she used the free chargers in the library the screen had remained blank. But she found it a useful prop, especially when she was on dark streets or in questionable company. Loudly giving out her location to her (non-existent) big, strong son and insisting he come pick her up seemed effective as a temporary deterrent.
By Sonia Heidi Unruh2 days ago in Futurism
The Flash
I was looking for an alternator. Ever since the blasts, it had gotten hard to find simple car parts. The old Walmart down at Steelyard was a good place to find things like that, if they still existed. It was a bright, cold winter day. As I walked through the huge parking lot, I looked around me at the old buildings and stores. Some of them were half-upright ruins, and others were boarded up. Like in most places, a lazy plume of smoke rose from the fires that the Lost kept lit for warmth. Sometimes I would go and try to talk to the Lost, about why they didn't take the link. Waste of time, to be honest. I'd ask them what their lives were like, and why they didn't take the link, and they would babble about "love" and "truth" which is one of the reasons why I begrudgingly praised the Eye. The Eye proclaimed that the Lost weren't worth interacting with, that we should ignore them like a bump in the road. But if they were that unimportant, why not get rid of them? The Linked were often subjected to purges, when an incorrect thought wave occurred, so why were the Lost able to roam and loiter so freely? I approached the old Walmart, and joined the line to get in. You had to scan your link at a power station in order to enter stores then. The Lost weren't allowed to shop at stores anymore. We called it a "line" out of habit, but it was more like a throng, moving forward slowly with an irregular gait toward the power station checkpoint. The checkpoints had sensors positioned about seven feet high, so you had to raise your hand above your head to get it scanned. I waited patiently as the people in front of me raised their hand, black diamond tattoos visible, and chanted "I praise the Eye". The scanner would briefly flash a radioactive green, reflected by their tattoo, and they would walk forward. I was in a hurry. I edged around some of the slow walkers in front of me, raised my hand, mumbled something about the eye, and pushed through the crowd. Once inside the building, I walked past a heap of random machinery and rushed to the very back corner of the store. Organization was in short supply those days. I knew I would have to methodically walk each aisle to see if they had an alternator. I had once found an old 24V power plug that I needed in an aisle full of children's toys, so I didn't want to chance missing this. My car was simple and reliable, so finding this alternator was the difference between meeting my quotas and being a walker for the next year. Eventually, I reached the toy aisle, which was about in the middle of the store. I strolled down the stained tile floor, scanning up and down the shelves as I went. A bright red doll caught my eye, and I stopped and stared at it. It had big eyes on top of the head, like the old cartoons, a big orange nose, and soft red fur covering the whole body. I had an irresistable urge to pick it up. I reached out and grabbed it by the torso, and some sort of speaker inside of it made a loud childish voice. "Heehee! That tickles" I jumped, startled by the ancient craftsmanship.
By A. S. Lawrence2 days ago in Futurism
The Countdown
It is hard to know who we once were before they were here. They came into our lives shiny and new. They recognized us as worthy of their attention. We gave our passwords, pins, and fingerprints to them. We let them use our faces to identify us and to call us by name. They were not just intelligent devices; they were part of us. Our hands twitch when they are not held in them. The desire to turn them on would be too much to bear to keep them anywhere but nearby. Pockets being their safe place where hands can freely reach in, tap it, and allow the personal wallpaper to shine and the notifications to appear. For if we do not have notification alerts, then how are we to know what to do next and who needs us?
By Ashley Wrigley2 days ago in Futurism
Write And Chill
I imagine if my iPhone stopped working, or pretty much everything froze, like the world was on pause, with no warning, no breaking news announcement, no emergency broadcast telling people to prepare themselves. It was just another ordinary morning. People woke up, reached for their phones, checked their notifications, scrolled through social media, responded to messages, and continued with their daily routines. No calls. No text messages. No social media. No internet. No GPS. Nothing.
By Gladys W. Muturi2 days ago in Futurism
Adapting . Top Story - October 2026.
When it came to it, Emmie played a game of Sudoku. She had to slow down over placing the fives and then speed up again to make sure she would get the last eight in place in time. Her heart, she noticed, had started to race with thirty seconds to go, as if the anticipated agony of a puzzle left floating forever in nearly-but-not-quite-complete limbo was a physical threat to her safety. And then it was done. An eight neatly placed in the last little box, a flashing “Genius Level!” message, and then, where there seemed so much life, nothing. Blackness. A void.
By Hannah Moore2 days ago in Futurism
