Holodecks
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"Holodecks" is a short poem by Karl Jones.
Holodecks
We all go there.
In fact, we are all there all the time. Why leave?
It's like each of us is living in a holodeck, more or less cognate with other holodecks.
All of the holodecks are stuck in their current configuration.
All of the inputs have all failed — only the outputs function, and that unreliably (e.g. aging, death).
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