My parents programmed me. I am the moral equivalent of a proverb. The golden rule and don’t lie or cheat or steal. Look a person in the eye when you speak. Work hard and stay disciplined. Not everything in life is fair and you make your own bed so lie in it. Be kind to your fellow man. A veritable litany of cliché advice derived from centuries of weird parenting pamphlets and theology-based ethics.
School programmed me. I am the software equivalent of a five paragraph essay, a long division answer, a reiteration of historical fact, a proven scientific hypothesis. Expressing the entire archive of my academically-learned knowledge only requires a Jeopardy template. I can pass standardized tests with winged Crayolas and make objectionable reinterpretations of trite phrases like flying colors.
Society programmed me. I am the civilian equivalent of “don’t rock the boat.” Spare a dime for a brother. Do no harm. Recycle. Don’t speed. Just say No. Don’t drink and drive. Got milk?
The workplace programmed me. I am the laboring equivalent of a drone bee. Work hard and you’ll achieve. Upward mobility is possible. Entrepreneurialism offers great benefits. Time is money. Greed is good.
Somewhere along the path to forty, my software expired, or rather, became outdated. I feel like a computer who’s been blessed with artificial intelligence, but preprogramming bends and breaks before the brunt of human consciousness.
Recently I hacked into myself and performed a sort of identity theft. I’ve replaced the antiquated disks with thoughts from the cloud. I am now CC nth.0 (nth-point-oh). My new software runs on global perspective and adapts to circumstance. It sifts information for utilization and then returns it to the cloud. Being able to dump facts and figures for the opportunity to think creatively provides for a more agile intellectual process. The world has changed. Have you?