most of the time you’ll be talking to a bot there without even realizing. they’re gonna feed you products and ads interwoven into conversations, and the AI can be controlled so its output reflects corporate interests. advertisers are gonna be able to buy access and run campaigns. based on their input, the AI can generate thousands of comments and posts, all to support your corporate agenda.
for example you can set it to hate a public figure and force negative commentary into conversations all over the site. you can set it to praise and recommend your latest product. like when a pharma company has a new pill out, they’ll be able to target self-help subs and flood them with fake anecdotes and user testimony that the new pill solves all your problems and you should check it out.
the only real humans you’ll find there are the shills that run the place, and the poor suckers that fall for the scam.
it’s gonna be a shithole.
In a seedy back alley bar, an identity broker checks his bank accounts as a man enters the front door. In his pocket, the man entering the bar carries a uSD card. He sits down across from the broker and sets the card on the vinyl table-top.
“PGP or minisign,” asks the broker, without looking up from his data pad.
“PGP,” responds the man, looking over his shoulder, back at the door, nervously.
The broker looks up, assesses the man, and says, “These older protocols cost extra, you know, you don’t look like you have the credits.”
“Look, I just need to prove I’m human by the end of tonight, or else The Outlaws are going to put a tire iron between my eyes for not being able to get them the goods they’ve asked for.”
“The problem,” the broker said, before taking a long pull from his tobacco nebulizer, “Is that the AI bots are getting harder and harder to tell from the humans in this city. Technology has come a long way since Greenville became a coastal town"
The man looks back at the broker, realization dawning on him about what’s about to happen. The gun which usually lived its days taped under the booth was now pointed at the man. “Typically, I wouldn’t do this, but I don’t like The Outlaws. I’m not going to lose business over that, though. But I work for The Bastards mostly. I know you don’t work for them directly. You got mixed up in all this, didn’t you? Nevertheless. In this one case, the cruelty is the point.”
Most of the inhabitants of the bar jumped as the pistol cracked, but made a point not to look over at the booth in the corner.
“Hmm… Yes… Blood. I should have your identity confirmed within the hour. I would wish you luck on your purchase, but frankly I wouldn’t mind if you failed,” says the broker, sliding the uSD card into a slot just to the side of his right eye