The Net 7.0

lock our image at cameras, or we will continue to break them all. Cameras in our rooms, at school, on the street, in the cafeteria, at movies, fuck! We must have the choice not to be filmed ...”

  //news/cininati/Newspaper.Day/File.2067/february/police.page/video/WildTigers/

  “... for many people, technology is always a remedy with side effects, and sometimes, they recognize that these side effects are dramatically worse than the disease that the drug attempted to cure ...”

  //view_discursive/technology/common_thought/

  “... you can be aware on that you do not know, but you can’t deny what you really know. More you deny what you know, more you know it. Knowledge, once acquired, is mixed in you as a microorganism that can’t be removed, a virus so assimilated, which is now part of the body. Is knowledge more dangerous than unknowing?...”

  //Thoughts.Feelings/opinion/visitor&9898322/

  Perhaps Ubi can make use of the program SerchByHeart.exe to find other images of Dora. There are Dora’s images inside him and outside him, it is so odd. Dora is in his organic memory and Dora is in electronic memories. But there is no more to see in the gray image of that thin screen. Victor puts his hand on the shoulder of Ubi, camaraderie between two warriors against the invincible enemy. Ubi closes his eyes and sighs inside the mask, he reopened his eyes steeped in sadness. Dora is dead, it's all about the image on that thin screen. Images on screens, they are the new masters of human civilization, the third eye.

  It was a hard time, now Ubi leaves the room, and he goes where Hugh is. Images come back on him for every step he takes. Hugh baby, Hugh running, Hugh smiling, and Hugh afraid. Images of a bright red ball with silver stars, he plays it for Hugh and the young child tries to get that big ball.

  When Ubi enters the room, looks like the same image of Dora's room, exactly the same machines, doctors, all the same, only the position of a doctor is different, everything else is equal. The strong smell of drugs, blood, deep wounds, is unmistakable, it is a smell that only doctors get used and are not impressed anymore.

  Ubi comes closer to the operating table and sees the state of the body of Hugh. Ubi closes his eyes, and tears trickle down his closed eyes, one after the other, big tears down, shining on the bright lights in the room. The man, inside Ubi, shows parent feelings and the doctor concludes a hopeless diagnosis.

  Hugh, like Dora, has numerous cables and tubes attached to the body. He looks more like a robot than a human, because of all these wires and tubes that are connected at him. Hugh is almost severed in half. There are profound damages in many vital organs. It's a terrible image to see.

  Ubi reopens his eyes, wipes the tears on the sleeve of the jacket and he stands in front of that thin screen as he made at Dora's room. He begins to navigate through the images, making them move at his will, and so he reads the actual situation of Hugh. Everything seems to be very bad, heart, kidneys, liver, stomach, and left leg. However, the situation of Hugh's brain seems to be fine. Ubi stares the image that maps the brain. He knows that strong drugs are controlling things in the brain of Hugh, many brain areas has virtually shut down, while others specific brain regions were increased its activity.

  There is nothing Ubi can do at the moment, but to look.

  “... when they invented the television actually changed our civilization, we all go to be spectators. Just sit down, settle down and look. Look at screen; see places you do not need to walk, see people you do not need to talk, see facts that you do not have to react. A child dies of hunger in Africa's savanna, and you show no apprehension. Yes, spread among us a growing insensitivity, a dangerous anesthesia. The animal that does not react is easy prey for a predator, or even carrion ...”

  //recipes/cakes/live.program/MarionStaff/22.03.2025-13:34/

  Ubi knows he must wait to see what can be saved from the body of Hugh. At least while the brain remains stable there is hope. What was Hugo's feeling? What was his thinking and dreaming like? What is Hugh at this condition? Ubi shifts his gaze to the operating table, he knows that is only flesh being cut, but he can’t stand looking at him, because this time isn't a patient, is his son, his beloved son. He knows they will do the best, in terms of equipment, medicine, and information. Thanks to the Project Gerome.

  “... Gerome Grant, 33, born at Kentucky, who in September 2022 was in the third year of his tenure as Deputy Director of the UN, he was extremely charismatic, he had a spotless political career, by defend always sensitive positions, he tried to develop political projects of great social impact. Basically he defended what he called the "Dance of Gerome", the three such steps: first, improve the spirit of humanity among all, second, develop quickly and deeply the technology, and third, whatever the cost, better distribute the wealth. It is a beautiful political speech, in fact, just it. Anyway, this position has served him well, guided him throughout his most terrible battle, which was to manage the replacement of fossil fuels by atomic energy and hydrogen power, and all the global impact that followed. He had a very ambitious goal, which was to get unlimited energy to the world. He came from poor family, so Gerome sincerely cared about the poor, about this he was not a politician, he was a courageous warrior. Jerome charmed the world. So in that fateful January, he was visiting a small town in the state of New Mexico, where he unveiled a train that would use technology hydrogen fuel, then there was the car accident. Severely wounded, he was taken to a local hospital of that town, as obvious, poorly equipped. The situation was so serious that was extremely risky to remove Gerome, and then was decided to make a huge airlift of supplies, medicines, and medical experts for that small town. They managed to keep him alive for eight days, and then he died. It was clear to everyone that if that small hospital had the equipments that came later, Gerome would certainly be alive. The U.S. Senate subsequently approved the project Gerome, which had as its goal, equip hospitals in many cities with the best in technology and staff training in order to always have a good hospital within a radius of up to 200 km. Later this policy was followed by many countries. "America can’t bear this silently, there is enough pain, we need shout, no more terrorism, no more tragedies, let's raise our heads and make something good of this fact, something lasting and universal (speech of Senator Crimson)." Yes, the politicians, the riches, the famous, did not want to run the risk of dying in a small town, simply because there isn't a decently equipped hospital. The hospital where died Gerome served for years as model of what should be a good hospital. More information at: //plot/USA and ...”

  //GeromeProject/history/summary/

  Thanks to the project Gerome, Hugh can be saved. It's amazing the equipment and resources of this hospital in this small town. There are two such rooms known as cocoons of survival. Is awesome all the equipment and drugs to keep a human alive. In fact if the brain wishes to live, the rest can be provided by machines, at least for a while.

  “... Einstein once said that God does not play dice. But life is a rolling of dice each negligible second. My mother Justina suffered from high blood pressure. She hated to travel, and at Christmas 2014, I brought her to my house. Right after that Christmas dinner, she began to feel sick, and she had a stroke. She died. Less than two years have passed, and now my city has a medical specialist who can prevent the adverse effects of a stroke. Only two years. If my mother was here today she would not die, nor would even trace of a stroke will be last. Only two years. Just a dice rolling in a timeline. How many people die? How many loved ones died? And all for an unequal distribution of technology, maybe God not plays dice, but while this world is so unequal, life and death are a matter of pure luck...”

  //venting_confessions/personalMemories/angry/

  Although only Ubi's eyes showed through the mask, there was sadness in them. Sad eyes. Ubi leaves the room back to the hallway, takes off the mask that covers his mouth revealing a tired face, and he takes a deep breath.

  - What happened? - Ubi asks Victor, who is close to him.

  - It was a disaster, a very strong wind, a storm, never se
en anything like it, maybe the beginning of a hurricane. I think by now should be on TV, we take a look, if you want to. Hugh's car was hit by a tree, as if the tree had been thrown into the car. I've never seen anything like this. I'm sorry for you. This crazy storm! A lot of victims are coming here now from various locations.

  - I must help. - Ubi said abruptly.

  - No, absolutely, don't worry about it. I think you should go and rest for awhile.

  - I want to help and I have to go help. - Ubi said turning around.

  - But ... - Victor protested.

  - Let me know if something changes with Hugh. - Ubi cried without heeding his friend.

  Ubi was doing what he should do. He was a doctor. While he worked hard at least he would not worry that much. But all the other doctors and nurses was paying attention on him, but he would look away and moved on. In fact, there were many people wounded at the hospital due to the storm, most with minor injuries. There was working for everyone in that hospital and for a long time.

  At quarter to midnight, in that strange day, Ubi stopped for a break, the first he had all day. He's in the coffee room. Victor is on his side, leaning against the wall. Both are