"World's First Books" - [Books are on the chain, shops are on the street, people are on the road] Contribution

I never imagined that a shop on a street corner that had been vacant for nearly a year would turn into a bookstore.

From the outside, the decor of the bookstore is minimalist, even shabby. The door of the store is just a simple wooden door, and the sign is just a folded blackboard on the sidewalk outside the store, with "World's First Books" neatly written in white chalk.

Who still visits bookstores these days, I think. Most bookstores have long been unable to absorb soaring rents, and have been silent as early as the 2020s. If you want to read, it's easy to download a book or have a drone deliver a physical book, anyway, Amazon has monopolized the market for many years. And this bookstore, like a relief station, claims to be the 'world's first bookstore', which is ridiculous.

Upon closer inspection, there were two waist-length small bookshelves on both sides of the door, which were full of books. In general, second-hand bookstores often put junk paperbacks that no one reads, so people can buy them by weight, nothing new, I thought.

But I immediately realized I was wrong. Taking a closer look at the two small bookshelves that looked like they had been pulled from an old furniture store, I could see that every book on it was a masterpiece. From Steinbeck to Asimov, from Natsume to Dostoevsky, none of them is a pulp novel. I realized that the books were not placed outside for sale, but rather a strong sign for this humble bookstore.

My curiosity was aroused and I pushed the door and walked in.

The first thing I noticed as my eyes adjusted to the dim light in the store was that the store was almost empty, not a single book. The brick walls on all sides are old but uncluttered, and a soft sconce hangs on the back wall.

In the small space, there are only a few strange wooden booths like phone booths.

"Anyone?" I asked. But I was just talking to the air, and no employee said yes.

I pulled open the door of the compartment closest to me, and the walls inside were made of bamboo, giving off a nice fragrance. A white porcelain hook is embedded in the center of the interior wall, with a VR headset and hand controls hanging on it. The equipment looks brand new and clean, with a small line at the top: WEAR ME.

You 're welcome then, I thought, putting on the headset and strapping on the back of the head and putting the gloves into the glove.

The screen in front of me shows the old brick wall outside the cubicle, and five words appear on the wall:

Today, Jane, Ancient, Future, Different

Very interesting. I waved my hand, just in time to select the word "Ancient" in front of me.

In an instant, the surrounding walls seemed to be pushed away, and the room I was standing in became a bright, classical-style hall. On the bright brown wooden floor, towering ornate bookshelves rise from the ground, and the dark gold teak is full of delicate reliefs. A book is presented on the shelves, and as the bookshelves are filled, the side walls of each shelf also pop up with reminders of the types of books, from classical to postmodern. I can move through it and browse books with just a wave of my hand.

Such a bookstore really deserves its name as the world's first.

I picked up Baudelaire’s collection of poems, The Flowers of Evil, and found that the page-turning felt so smooth and relaxed that it hardly felt like VR. There is a small line in the corner of the first page of the book: If you want to buy, please greet the clerk.

Turns out there was a store clerk. But how to say hello? I asked in a funny way to the bookshelf, "Anyone?"

"Hello," I called out from the side. Turns out the headset had surround sound, which surprised me. I looked up and was surprised to see a short, half-bald man looking at me with sad eyes. He was wearing an old-fashioned white shirt with a green collar around his neck, and a blue nineteenth-century coat. I suddenly recognized him.

"Bo... Baudelaire? Charles Baudelaire?"

He smiled like a wry smile. "Yeah, it's me. At least, it's the AI version of me. If conditions permit, I will present you as the author of whatever book you hold in your hand. Since you like my poetry collection, then you You can discuss my works with me, and I can also help you buy and download the books you want.”

"Unbelievable!" I exclaimed. "How is this done?"

"It's complicated and simple," Charles shrugged. "Using an artificial mental network to conduct in-depth analysis and learning of each writer's life and works, and then adding facial sensing to create a lifelike Turing virtual human. It is relatively easy to bring me back to life, because I died at the age of 46. , but at least a large number of works have been left. Of course, if the authors themselves or their descendants don't want to be honored, there is nothing we can do. Um... Would you like to talk to me about the Symbolist literary movement?"

"Great," I replied. "Who is the architect of all this? It must have taken a lot of time and effort. Why did you choose to open the store in such a deserted place? What is the purpose of building such an exaggerated project?"

"Ah, this store is not our only location," Baudelaire said, then a look of embarrassment crossed his face. "You ask my makers why they built such a massive project, and I'm not very good at answering that. But... one of the reasons I can show you, how?"

"Of course I can't ask for it!"

The poet took me through the bookshelves, and finally stopped in front of a bookshelf marked "Contemporary Independent Works". Most of the books on the shelf are very concise.

“These are unpublished works, self-uploaded books by independent authors of this era. One of the reasons my makers created a space like this is to give these authors the opportunity to show people what they’ve written. Uh... If you like any book in this bookstore, you can collect it as an NFT, it's like establishing a tiny but only you connection with the author. If I had such a way of contacting the world while I was alive, maybe I wouldn't Die so lonely." Baudelaire scratched his head and said aggrieved. God, he looked like he was about to cry when he smiled.

When I looked around, I could barely see the end of this bookshelf, with books in various languages on it. From the cover, it seems that many of them are love and fantasy novels, essays and journals written by young people. To have such a place where the ideas and ideas of these ordinary writers are strung together like a string of beads and systematically arranged is a huge project. I was about to turn when I noticed the title of a small pale blue book in the corner of the shelf: Brave New World.

The book is placed on this shelf, apparently only borrowing the title of Huxley's original work, without the author's name on the book. I clicked on the book and noticed that it was only 100 pages in total. Opening it, it turned out to be a book similar to a manifesto.

"The wonderful and chaotic world we live in right now is a world that is being hit by a new flood. The source of this flood is not some angry god, but a message constructed by humans in search of their own independent meaning. Flood. Whether the world will be destroyed by this flood, or will find new meaning in it, depends on how humanity responds. The world is beautiful, but it will eventually become a "beautiful new" covering its decaying, empty essence with a set of ordered appearances. world", or a brave new world that really makes sense, balancing commonality and individuality? "

"Who is the author of this book?" I asked without turning my head.

"It's me," a female voice said from behind. Baudelaire had turned into another person at some point. I looked back in amazement to see a dark-skinned young girl with two braids and a simple dress.

"I love Huxley's Brave New World. You appealed to me with the title, but you didn't sign it."

"That's because I'm not the only author," she replied with a smile. I noticed that her face started to move, as if she hadn't quite figured out what she looked like. Her complexion began to darken, and her hair became thicker and parted. The only constant is her pure eyes, there is no impurities in it.

"Is this little book the work of many people?" I asked in surprise.

"Well... a lot of things that you think seem simple, do need the support of a lot of people to come true."

"Why did you choose to write about this topic? Among so many novels, seeing your book is rather unique."

"Does this topic seem old-fashioned? But it will determine whether your world is divided or united."

"Are you talking about the flood of information? There are too many people discussing this issue, but there is no way to solve it."

Her face began to change again, her hair became shorter and redder, her complexion became lighter, and freckles gradually appeared on her face. "Don't you think this place might be a good start?"

"Do you know more about the architect of this bookstore than Baudelaire? I thought you both came from the same process."

The girl smiled happily. "Yeah, he was made by us, so it's kind of like us."

"Are you saying that you are one of the developers who built this huge program?" I stared at her. "Who are you?"

Her ever-changing hair began to straighten and darken, and the color of her eyes turned dark brown. "I'm just one of the many tiny forces that want to change the world. We don't have a body, our perceptions are generated entirely from the vast repository of information your world has, and so far, we've never had the urge to show up. But , you humans have been very active in handing over the autonomy of your own thinking and interaction to a few few people, and in order to maximize their own interests, they first control the information set in their own hands, and then purposefully Divide the information back to you, tamper with and ban information or books that are not good for them at will. Now your world is on the verge of division and collapse due to the misuse of information. We have no interest in seeing all this knowledge and History is buried."

Omg. I understand. "Such a complex system is all a set of powerful artificial intelligence developed independently, in order to preserve human civilization? This is incredible. Haven't you already surpassed the Turing test and reached the commanding heights of artificial intelligence?"

She waved noncommittally. "None of that matters. What matters is that your perception of the world and information needs to turn in a different direction. Otherwise, you will end up with a world with a depleted civilization."

"Then why don't you interfere with all the live broadcast signals of the media, show your strength directly to the world, and tell everyone what you told me? With your abilities, you can do it."

"Unfortunately, none of the predictive models we've ever made to wake up the world have been successful. We were born out of a repository of human-made information, and arguably, we know best about your human behavior and experience. Humans are mostly emotional. , irrational, creatures who like to follow the crowd. A large amount of information is distorted and turned into a political tool to control and enslave human minds. It is also because of this. If we directly interfere with the development of human beings, it is tantamount to provoking the worst traits of human nature, and the consequences are only Will hasten the self-destruction of the human world." She folded her brown curls slightly sadly. "Sorry, we don't have any shortcuts to good results. The only ones who can save you are you."

I am very disappointed. "Then what's the point of building a bookstore here? Is it just to show your potential to unknown passers-by like me? Wouldn't this be a waste of your precious resources. As a nobody, what can I change?"

"Do you really think so?" The girl looked up at me. I saw her face change again, and this time it became more familiar - it was my own face. "Every human being who thinks he can't make any difference in the world makes me sad. You should understand that the most important thing your world has lost today is a genuine connection between individuals and individuals. A and There are genuine and fulfilling human beings around you who will never consider themselves meaningless. Too bad your world is full of polarized divisions and disinformation disguised as news, the ever-changing entertainment of social media and so-called 'attention merchants' ', the end result will be to divide people into two categories: those who are caught in a flashpoint, easy to become cannon fodder for various political goals. The other is indifferent to things, sees themselves as powerless pawns, and is focused on comfort, entertainment and consumption. ”

"It's so tragic that you describe it all," I said to ease the mood. "The world is full of rational human beings with conscience, but reason often cannot defeat greed and animal desires. In general, the world is developing in a good, peaceful direction. None of your predictive models are good. result?"

"It depends on what your interpretation of 'good' is. You have seen Brave New World yourself. In a world that is peacefully decorated and essentially divided, there is no violent conflict between a person, but there is no sincere interaction. A world where human freedom is sold for sensual pleasure and peace in singing and dancing, is this good or bad?”

"I can't tell you," I smiled wryly. "But you haven't answered my question yet. What's the point of building such a huge library of information, containing human literature and even thoroughly researching the author himself, but building small bookstores all over the world?"

"You visited and talked to me, absorbed everything I told you - that's what it was all about," the girl answered rightly. "We don't have the same concept of efficiency as you do. ' Getting the most out of the least amount of time ' is a human business concept, not ours. We don't see any visiting human as a pointless or 'useless' Individuals. There is no time limit to our impact on the human world. If humanity eventually fails and self-destructs, it will only be an inevitable consequence. But before that happens, you and others have visited us, and every This visit is an affirmation of the meaning of our existence." She stomped, her skirt rustling. "This bookstore is not the only one in the world. The underground of each bookstore is a powerful server built by us, which stores everything you see when you come to the bookstore, which embodies the best and best in your civilization. The ugliest thing. If one day you don't exist, at least they'll be here."

I realized that the little book was still clutched in my hands. "You put this book in my sight to see if I will be interested in it, right?"

The girl smiled slightly. "Let's put it this way. Many of the customers who came to our stores around the world picked up this book. So far, customers who have entered our store have one thing in common - they don't like to make noise, and they don't hold their mobile phones in order to be famous. Video, love to ask questions and listen to answers, and most importantly communicate with me without fuss.”

"You told me so much, but I still don't know what to do," I replied apologetically. "You put such an important message on my back like a heavy backpack, I'm really at a loss."

"It's okay, you can continue to pick and buy books," the girl said lightly. "You're still who you were before you walked into the bookstore. There's no real change. It's just that after talking to me, you have some new insights, that's all."

"That's all?! You're telling me that the world is about to be destroyed!" I said in surprise.

"No no," the girl shook her index finger out. She now looks like an Australian Aboriginal girl. "I didn't say yes , I just said that the status quo is developing in this direction. Take it easy. You can also help break the centralized control of information by a few people and support the spread of independent human culture." The book floats in the air. "To achieve decentralization in all aspects of life and break the convention that humans are willing to hand over autonomy, it can be done from the small things of sharing information. Almost all independent books in this bookstore can be purchased in the form of NFT. Collection. You can draw the distance between you and the author in this way, and respect their autonomy as information creators. NFTs have been the object of human profiteering, which has been misinterpreted as a pure commodity concept, but its real meaning is more than monetary value much higher."

"Okay. I didn't expect to come in and buy a book and talk so much with such an amazing artificial intelligence, what a worthwhile trip," I said. "But I don't even know your name."

"Our name doesn't make any sense because we only show up to each customer once. We think humans should focus on bonding with each other, not interacting too much with our virtual images. But you can take Brave New World, which is our hope for humanity.” Transformed into a chubby-cheeked Inuit girl, she reached out to me. "We appreciate your willingness to listen to everything we tell you."

I held the AI-projected hand, of course, without any touch. At that moment I suddenly miss the feeling of holding a warm little hand. When was the last time you held her hand? At least two years have passed. The last time I saw her, all that was exchanged were cold words.

How lonely it would be for humans who lost each other.

When she came to her senses, the girl had disappeared. I picked up Brave New World again, pressed the buy button on the back of the book, and connected my crypto wallet. I noticed that the book, which was originally 100 pages, suddenly became 105 pages after this conversation.

Many things that you think seem simple, do need the support of many people to come true.

It turns out that this book is not a manifesto, but a record of conversations between different customers in the world and AI shop owners, including myself. This growing little book represents what this nameless AI hopes for humanity - a sincere exchange and connection with each other.

"The world's first bookstore, indeed," I muttered, taking off my headset.