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In The Future Computers Will Read Your Mind, Thus Filling Your Screen With Porn

Science is wonderful, isn’t it? Take this story about a recently published scientific study in which “scientists from Washington University demonstrated that humans can control a cursor on a computer screen using words spoken out loud and in their head, holding huge applications for patients who may have lost their speech through brain injury or disabled patients with limited movement.”

Wow, that’s incredible; truly remarkable. The study involved implanting electrodes in to the brains of four patients with epilepsy, and the electrodes would, in essence, capture the brain’s commands to perform physical actions, and then store the data on a computer. By having the patients sit in front of a computer screen and speak pre-defined words that were linked to specific actions, the patients could manipulate the on-screen cursor; for example, saying or even thinking the word “Ah” would move the cursor to the right of the screen.

Again, wow. Just…wow. That’s the kind of news that really warms my heart. To think that I may live to see a day in which the disabled are given the opportunity to perform the very same actions that we able bodied people take for granted is just incredible.

But then I read this sentence:

At some point in the future researchers hope to permanently insert implants into a patient’s brain to help restore functionality and, even more impressively, read someone’s mind.

Let’s take this idea of technology reading my mind and apply it to the research study involving mental commands to move a cursor on a screen.

If you think about this possibly for only a split-second, it seems like a wonderful idea that will help millions of people. And then I think about all of those times I’ve had to show my mom how to access her bank account, and then I see a banner ad off to the side of the page featuring an attractive woman. As a horny American human male, it’s my patriotic duty to immediately start dreaming of seeing the ad lady naked and with all of her holes filled with me. At which point my mouse will magically gravitate toward my double-top secret porn bookmarks folder and click every link in the file before I can think “FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, NO! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?! STOP! STOOOOOOOP!

I can try to toss the computer across the room in a last ditch effort to save face and not have my mom think I’m a deviant chronic masturbator, but by the time I touch the thing my monitor will look like a Best Buy TV show room that features nothing but fine, upstanding women getting plowed by monster cocks. There’s no way I’m going to be able to explain to my mother that the dude rudely spitting in to that girl’s fun patch is simply a new Wachovia security feature that grants users access to their account by gaging their level of sexual arousal/disgust at the hardcore acts being shown. If that point in the future ever dawns, there’s a good chance my mom still may not know simple computer stuff, like how to refresh the page, but she’ll know that her sweet, precious son was just thinking about banging a chick while standing no more than a foot away from his mom.

Then she’ll give me the stink eye and, using the powers of her mind, bring up the web page for sex addicts anonymous; thus forever tarnishing my once-loving relationship with her.

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