For the second time in two months, my hard drive has crashed, leaving me to restart my desktop from before.  I backup regularly, so this never really affects me. Except in one area:  Online IDs and Passwords.

Launching an Internet browser again after a hard reset is an endless torture for the online person.  My computer is no longer “recognized,” and I must now go to every site and make it recognize me.  My banking, my credit card, my electric company, my phone company, my Netflix, my Facebook; all these wonderful electrical outlets I’ve plugged myself into, and now I’m no longer recognized.  WordPress even blocked me from my own site when I couldn’t remember my password correctly.  I had been marked as a spammer.

A company was telling me I wasn’t a person but a robotic thing.  The thing called me a thing.  The thing said that it was the person, and I was the fraudulent thing trying to scam it.

I’m sorry.  I sound crazy.  I’ve been dealing with AppleCare all week.  I just can’t help but hear Mitt Romney’s glib voice echo in my brain: “Corporations are people, my friend.”

Is the world in trouble of losing its sense of self?  No!  Because within five years, passwords will be a thing of the past, or so said IBM.  Or rather, a person who represents the thing called IBM said.  What will replace it?  Spygear, of course!


Will our privacy be solved if this goes in to effect?  No, it’s only a matter of time before this face-only technology code is cracked by another robot or by this guy.

Am I paranoid?  Absolutely not.  This is oddly not bothering me.  No, just as the robots demand, I am slipping gracefully into my cumbersome future like a warm bubble bath.  If I was paranoid, I would be really worried about Israel’s impending attack on Iran’s uranium supplies, which would draw America into a potential nuclear war.

The bath is warm.  I ain’t even worried.  I’m still in charge.  I already confirmed to Hulu that I’m a human being who paid for its services, and so I’m catching up on Happy Endings tonight!

Sleep will come soon.

Powered By DT Author Box

Written by Adam Sass

Adam Sass

ADAM SASS begins all his writing in Sharpie on dozens of Starbucks pastry bags. This may cause him to be late making your cappuccino, and he sincerely apologizes. His Writer’s Digest-honored story “98% Graves” appeared in the anthology STARTLING SCI-FI: NEW TALES OF THE BEYOND. He lives in New York City with his husband and two dachshunds.

Find Adam at, his pop culture writing at, or keep up with him on his (over)active Twitter @TheAdamSass.