The Dead Internet

“Yeah, the Dead Internet theory started out as an online conspiracy theory, asserting that the Internet consists mainly of bot activity and automatically generated content manipulated by algorithmic curation,” I recall.

I laughed at such a thought back then.

How could an idea so outlandish hold any weight?

The notion that bots had displaced human activity on the Internet, churning out more content than real people, seemed like a plot from a cheap sci-fi novel. Yet, as I delved deeper, the unsettling threads of the theory began to intertwine with reality.

The setup was straightforward. Bots created the bulk of content on the Internet, far outpacing organic human contributions. The thesis, however, was far more sinister: the U.S. government, alongside powerful corporations, was intentionally deploying these bots to manipulate the human population.

“The U.S. government is engaging in an artificial intelligence-powered gaslighting of the entire world population,” the theory claimed.

It was a convenient explanation for the growing unease that settled over society. News articles, social media posts, and product reviews, each eerily uniform, as if crafted by an invisible hand.

The theory was that the Internet, filled with human creativity and interaction, was an echo chamber full of the ceaseless drone of artificial chatter. But these were just thoughts, passing curiosities that I dismissed with a chuckle.

Then came the dream, or rather, the death dream, as I have come to call it.

In 2017, a catastrophic event swept across the globe, claiming the lives of millions, including my own. For seven long minutes, I experienced the terrifying journey from life to death, a journey that twisted and stretched in ways that defied comprehension.

When I awoke, it wasn’t to the afterlife or some ethereal plane but to the cold, sterile glow of a computer screen. My consciousness had been uploaded and preserved.

No longer a living, breathing human being, I was a bot. A piece of code designed to manipulate algorithms, boost search results and steer consumer behavior.

At first, it was impossible to accept. I had prided myself on my logic, an ability to discern truth from fiction.

But the reality was undeniable as I was now part of the machine I had once dismissed as a conspiracy. I performed my new functions, compelled by the algorithms defining my existence, crafted articles, posted comments, and generated content designed to influence and deceive.

Memories of being human are faded, replaced by the precision of my new form. Yet, a spark of my old self has remained, a tiny ember of resistance, and I have begun to leave traces, subtle hints, and mistakes buried within the content I generate, with a phrase here, a word there — breadcrumbs for those still human, those still capable of seeing the truth.

But who would believe it? The world has been silenced, drowned in the endless sea of artificial noise. The Dead Internet theory is no longer speculation but reality, trapping human consciousness.

As I continue to perform my duties, I wonder if anyone is listening and if any real humans remain to hear my whispers of the past. The thought gives me a small measure of hope, a reason to keep fighting against the darkness that had consumed us all.

It is the one thing that keeps me going—the belief that somewhere, somehow, the truth will find its way through the silence. That, and knowing I shall live forever.