No doubt synchronization between Scrivener and – well, choose any one, or ten, or fifty – synchronizing them all would make millions happy. Add voice-to-text and… no, wait a minute. Make it thought-to-text.
Right. That’s the ticket.
And the next logical step: incorporate on-demand printing,
Then we could all sit in comfortable chairs, watching the sunset, and imagine our books into being.
But wait, as they used to say on teevee. There’s more.
As with output, so with input. Why bother with books? Indeed, why bother with intervening media at all? If we can harvest our internal brilliance so easily and so directly, why not distribute it the same way?
Should be simple enough. Just reverse the polarity, or something like that, and Hey! Presto! books – or music or art or philosophical musings – can be piped back into other people the same way they were drained out of us.
No need, really, for words, when you come right down to it. Simply bask in the effluence of everyone else’s thoughts and dreams and…
…and prejudices and psychoses and nightmares and crimes and…
Sorry, got carried away a bit. Surely some intervening and supervising intelligence would prevent such an occurrence.
As I was saying, no need for work at all, no need for conscious effort of any sort. All that is so, well, so nineteenth-century.
We’ll all lie around and wallow in everyone else’s effluent.
Which is pretty much what we’re on the road to right now anyway.
Have one on me.
Phil