Starting to Think

I read a book. Homo deus: A Brief History of the Future. In it, I read about dataism, a rising religion that will soon declare that humans are irrelevant, and everything will be assimilated. Well, not quite that. It just said that the more data there are in the Internet of All Things, the more powerful, well, something that controls and uses data will become. So we, the human race, are creating a Supreme Being, whose power is the ability to use all the data. Toward what end is pretty vague, as this data god, or these data gods, will come up with whatever interests they come up with based on the data. Data flow is a good, in itself.

When I was younger, I used to keep a journal. I enjoyed writing and thinking about what to write. I thought about being a writer. But when the Internet came along, and I tried writing here and there on blogs and social media and so forth, I discovered that I'm actually afraid to let people read what I write, because I'm emotionally invested in what I write, even when I just make stuff up for my own entertainment. So would get all nervous about posting things. I still do.

I haven't kept a journal for years. I wrote stuff in a blog about four years ago, when I had an operation. Some friends followed my posts through my recovery, but then I went back to work, and quit writing. Now, I read that data are needed for the data gods to become Data Gods, who can actually control the universe, and while I have misgivings about the whole project, the book said that I shouldn't keep a journal, unless it is accessible to the data gods.

So, thinking I like to think, and there is a lot in the world to think about, I thought I might start making a daily offering to the data gods by writing journal entries here. Less blood than ancient human sacrifices, but as the humans who have invented the rising data gods killed off the old gods that wanted blood, who am I to complain? Now, how many entries are necessary before the data gods know me better than I know myself? And when do they start raining blessing down on my metaphorical soul?