A.I. Music

"Of course it's possible, even probable, in fact they do it every time you go to the movies or watch a commercial."

"Well yea, but...

"But what? Stop talking in circles, get your head out your butt and listen!"

"To you or the music?" I ask, an impish look on my face. Chaise isn't amused.

"I mean it John, if we're not careful they'll get us next."

"You worry too much." I sound carefree and unconcerned but Chaise isn't fooled. He knows I'm spooked well enough, but we couldn't be too safe with our words. If the reports are to be believed The System can hear us at all times. No where is safe.

We sat there for a time, our eyes never leaving the display in the diner window across the street. Angeline had shoveled three quarters of a pie down her gullet before Chaise couldn't stand it any more. "I'm going in."

"No!" I hiss and pull him back down on the bench next to me. "You want her to know you're still spying on her? After all that finangling you had to do just to convince her not to block all your numbers and change the locks. She would have put a restaining order out on you if I wasn't there to smooth things over."

"You flatter yourself J, I would have been fine on my own," he insists, but stays on the seat next to me. The waitress had just sat the fourth and final triangle of the pie in front of Chaise's gluttonous love interest. "What are we supposed to do just sit here and let her eat herself to death?!"

"I hardly doubt she'll die from one pie, drama king."

"Maybe not today, but what about tomorrow? It'll be amazing if she can keep it down overnight. What if she chokes on this last piece?! I don't think she chewed half of the last one..."

"Relax, keep it together man. Finish telling me about these music-bots."

"A.I.Music, Code name A.I.M. Supposedly the A.I. stands for the owner initials. A for Alexander Starsgard, I for Ignatious Baloney."

"Awfully powerful names for a couple tech geeks."

"They're probably facimile's. Nobody gives there kids names like that any more. Besides 'Baloney' is hardly a powerful name."

"You've never met Oscar Mayer then."

"Neither have you, shut up. Besides I'm not so sure they're your average techies. I've seen them at red carpets, they give GQ models a run for their money, not that anyone could keep up. They're on track to overtake Moskovitz on the richest under 40 list.

"You mean Zuckerberg."

"No, I mean Moskovitz. Zuckerberg's worth 13.5 billion last I checked. Dustin Moskovitz is only worth a little under 4 billion."

"Only huh? Poor guy, he must be one sad little mouse."

"...what?"

"You know, Fievel. Cuz there are nooo cats in America and streets are paved with cheeeese!" I offer him my most stage ready grin. A beat passes where he stares at me nonplussed.

"In addition to being attractive they are rumored to have black belts in multiple martial arts."

"Mega rich kung-fu techies. Got it. Why is it their fault your girlfriend is currently attempting death by consumption?"

"Consumption, you think she's got TB?! She did cough the other day and she was awfully sweaty the night she threw me out."

"Dude, I meant from consuming all that food, it was a joke! And she was sweaty that night because if you remember she had just gotten in from a run."

"O...right." He eased back onto the bench, having risen in his hurry to save Angey from the evil diner yet again.

"It's not their fault per se, but I have empirical evidence that suggests A.I.M. is responsible for releasing auditory captivations.

"That another phrase you made up?"

"How else would you describe music with the ability to control one's actions?"

"Fair enough. So AIM is selling their mind controlling music to big shot AD corporations, ultimately controlling what people buy?"

"Not the AD agencies, directly to the companies themselves."

"Right, that's how they make the big bucks, take out the middle man."

"By the way, Fievel's surname is Mousekewitz, not Moskovitz." Before I could lay into my partner for being an insufferable donkey's bum, his phone rang. "It's Angey!" I started to tell him not to answer but before the 'D' left my lips he was saying hello. "Hey Ang. O nothing, just hanging with my buddy J. What's up, you don't sound too good."

"I wonder why." Chaise punched me in the arm for my trouble.

"I see. Well no need to beat yourself up over it. --- Really? How about that... Tell you what, come over to my place and we'll figure this out together." I presented him with the raised eyebrow that said 'Impressive'. "Shut up, she's upset, I just want to talk."

"Uh huh."

"Let's move before she comes out." We walked down the street in the direction of my car five blocks over. "I told you AIM's to blame! Angey just confessed to downing an entire pecan pie because she just saw an AD for Uncle Patty's Pies."

"I've seen that AD, didn't make me want to scarf the nearest pastry."

"You don't like sweets much. Angeline's not even a major fan of pecans, but she said it was the song they played over the commercial that made her run the street to JJs Diner to get her fix."

"What song was it?" Chaise was quiet so long I didn't think he'd answer.

"Good Times by the Dan Maters band. It was playing the first night we met." I let that sink in.

"You said A.I. supposedly stands for the owner's names. What do you think it really means?" There was an even longer pause.

"Artificial Intelligence."

"Artificial Intelligence Music. You think...?"

"Yea, I think. I believe those guys are creating smart music programs that get smarter the more they learn about us."

"Freaky."

"Yea. Freaky."

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Word count = 1000

image search/source: "music of the mind"

Thought process: Artificial Intelligence Music takes over the world and ppls brains, one well placed ad after another. The music changes to fit each person listening, think internet radio combines with data capture cookies and surf history to display ads catered to you down to the store and music.

Expanding idea: angry music makes people fight/riot, think POD, let the bodies hit the floor, etc.

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Full Prompt: In South Wales, Australia, a McDonald’s manager is successfully using classical music/opera to keep teenagers from lingering.

Is this the beginning of action-controlling M U S I C ? ? ?

In the future could music actually GOVERN our minds -- forcing us to buy against our better judgment, creating a yearning for romance as we walk by the beauty salon, getting us to loosen our pennies just because of whatever mind-influencing tune is being played?

Or maybe, businesses are already doing this?

While the grocery store bakes its cookies and fans the aroma to increase an appetite for purchases is their music also fondling our minds?

Write a poem or story about this topic:

Music as a means of control