By TONY EVANS
I'm writing a novel about the future when search technology becomes obsolete because everyone finally knows everything. After the guru wars of the 21st century, the remaining Internet traffic will be composed of R2D2 beeps and squeaks transmitting messages of universal compassion between men and women of many nations who will finally understand one another completely. Death will be considered an ancient superstition as all life and human consciousness are viewed as an uninterrupted stream of heavenly genius jumping from organism to organism. Most bodily functions will be abandoned in favor of simple chemical reactions and every sport will have clowns, not just rodeos.
There will be no scandal, corruption, or holes in the historical and scientific record. Miniaturization will have made for easy transport of everything from major home appliances to entire buildings, which will be produced from small wafers of self-organizing materials shipped by zeppelin and sailboat. Heating will come from the center of the Earth. Electricity will be accumulated on the spot whenever needed by Nicola Tesla's forgotten inventions including the neutron solar cell and recyclotron. There will be avant-garde windmill design competitions.
Actual travel will be mostly passé and the environment will rebound completely with small pockets of tribal societies flourishing in the rampant foliage. But, for most of us, nature will have become too gradual an experience. We'll prefer instead scale models of virtual scenery designed by geneticists with a flair for the original, inhabited by friendly polar bears, talking sea mammals, non-biting insects and heroes from the past, including Nobel Laureates, to keep an eye on politics. Mark Twain will be president.
The Etruscan-Land theme park will be quite popular with wine and Goddess worship, while the Norse Park will feed the desires of the more war-like among us who will of course grow new limbs at the Mead Hall during Ragnorok at the end of each day. Kids will design their own playgrounds and get hugged all day long by parents with nothing more pressing to do, other than boutiquing. Underground robot-sweatshop labor will be utilized for the production of industrial goods.
The rapid advancements in cellular intelligence will of course involve the arts, as our minds will be freed by virtual memory to continually enrich an ever-deepening human story. Sensitive babies will grow into wise, literate and benevolent adults, many of whom will make love all day long like bonobos chimps.
Deep in the sea and on the prairies of America, the octopus and cricket will be recognized finally as the most intelligent creatures on Earth, but they won't try to take over. Who in their right mind would want a job like that? They will merely be consulted from time to time on the meaning of things.
Of course, there will be pockets of resistance begun by a cabal of disgruntled aristocrats and their generals from the "regime ancien," which will enlist the aid of tribal freedom fighters within the overgrown jungles who they have brainwashed with religious ideas and tempted with promises of eternal life. There will be a few battles and then a victory party so exclusive that no one at all will be there.