#

storytelling

(23 articles)

Goodbye Homework, Hello Sats: Inside a 2037 Classroom

Jai Shah, fourteen, woke to the soft glow of his bedside tally: 6 214 sats—tiny pieces of bitcoin he had earned by fixing neighbours’ gadgets. In today’s world the number rose slowly but what mattered more was what each sat could buy: the price of almost everything kept slipping downwards, as naturally as last night’s tide. Jai skateboarded to what used to be known as 'school' which was a converted ferry terminal called Harbour Hub. There were no desks in rows, no strict timetables, classes or teachers. Instead, work-benches ringed a wide central court where you could smell solder, fresh bread and salt air all at once. At nine sharp, Coach Leena gathered the teens of all ages. “Morning builders! Same rule as always—help a person, log the act, earn sats. Help two people, earn twice. Simple.” She tapped a wall-screen. Coloured dots represented pupils; thin lightning lines flashed whenever one dot aided another. Even visiting parents understood the picture in seconds. Jai paired with Maya, thirteen, to repair a fisherman’s cracked radio. They posted a short video of the fix; within minutes an older hobbyist across the city sent 21 sats—a tip for showing a trick he hadn’t known. Maya’s eyes widened. “It’s like creating money out of thin air.” “Not quite,” Jai laughed. “We still have to create value—the money just keeps its value instead of melting.” Prices were chalked on reusable boards. A steaming vegetable pie cost 5 sats; yesterday the same pie had been six. Nobody made a fuss—falling prices were as ordinary as Friday cricket. Maya nudged Jai. “My gran says when she was our age everything got dearer every year. Could you imagine?” “Coach says that was the old money game,” Jai replied, munching happily. “Now the game is ‘serve and be served’. Eight billion people helping eight billion people, remember?” She grinned. “Best multiplayer ever.” Back inside, a gentle chime sounded over the PA. Coach Leena announced a community bounty: “Design a low-cost phone torch for storm nights. Best idea earns 300 sats.” Maya sketched a clip-on lens that spread light like a lantern. Jai added a small dynamo crank so it could recharge itself. They uploaded the sketch; a live vote bar climbed beside it as classmates tapped their screens in approval. By hometime their design topped the vote. The 300-sat reward split automatically: 150 to each wallet. No forms, no waiting. Evening ride On his bamboo board—also a Harbour Hub build—Jai glided past posters listing today’s stats: Helpful acts logged: 1 948\ Average price drop on essentials: –0.3 %\ Total sats paid out: 82 760 The numbers weren’t just bragging rights; they were proof the system worked. Serve, earn, live better—that was the rhythm. As streetlights flickered on, Jai thought about tomorrow: maybe he’d film a tutorial on wiring the dynamo crank. Somewhere, someone would find it useful; somewhere, a sat would ping back. The loop felt endless, like surf rolling over the harbour wall—value in, value out, forever forward. He pushed off, wheels humming, and disappeared into the warm coastal night, another bright dot in the great web of eight billion helping eight billion.

Why do we keep s(k)ulking around on social media instead of doing something more meaningful?

Because we are not merely addicted to #Narrativium: It is our drive, imbued into our very essence. And it is so much easier to absorb our daily dose from the billions of trickles provided by everyone else as a substitute drug #Gossipium, or temporarily saturate our unquenchable thirst by just giving in to the temptation by the incessable stream of Movies and Series providing #Fictionium than it is to find a properly satisfying Source Of Narrativium (acronymize that 😉), let alone create our own Narrativium that might even be worthy of sharing. And yet, there is so much more fulfilment possible by letting one's creativity work instead of merely using a "share" button - which briefly seems to trick the human brain into believing that one has actually participated in providing one's peers with proper Narrativium, possibly as part of an implicit social contract: "I give you all some Narrativium I found, now give me more in return". It is such a trivial action to take, even more effortless than gossiping. But let's be honest, it often just feels hollow. And even when we write something, it is again tempting to just create #Rantium instead of something actually useful. ![Gossypium herbaceum, the cotton plant (Photo by H. Zell from Wikipedia)](https://image.nostr.build/2c2d14db5e1e3acf8ae53e572a6b87ba01d1ee8a88121f1109960f9f5c3f74ba.png) Gossypium herbaceum, the cotton plant (Photo by H. Zell from Wikipedia) Originally I merely wanted to post a witty quote from https://wiki.lspace.org/mediawiki/Narrativium about Narrativium on Facebook: > "Humans add narrativium to their world. They insist on interpreting the universe as if it's telling a story. This leads them to focus on facts that fit the story, while ignoring those that don't." - T. Pratchett, I. Steward, J. Cohen, The Science of Discworld I Maybe even subtly allude to how that might explain quite a lot about the everyday insanity that seems to surround us, especially these days. > "We are not Homo sapiens, Wise Man. We are the third chimpanzee. [...] We are Pan narrans, the storytelling ape. [...] if you understand the power of story, and learn to detect abuses of it, you might actually deserve the appellation Homo sapiens." - T. Pratchett, I. Steward, J. Cohen, The Science of Discworld II Really. I was just going to quote a bit and go on about my day with some meaningless procrastination. Why already bother with housework when I can delay that until tomorrow or the day after and just watch some series in the Arrowverse now? But after ten minutes of a Legends of Tomorrow episode called "Lucha de Apuestas", curiosity got the better of me. What is it with Luchadores and their masks, I mockingly wondered. So I read Wikipedia on it. Lots of culture, history and, most importantly to me, Narrativium. I probably couldn't care less for to guys bumping fists on a stage, I don't really care about watching any sports either. But there's a certain fascination to stories, isn't there? So I felt like sharing about Narrativium, and here we are. — That's it for now, I might keep writing on this. One day. Just as I keep continuing writing everything else I start. Not. Well, motivate me.