The Monster in the Black Glass Box

Attention!

I need you to stop what you’re doing and listen. I don’t have long and your life could

depend on it. You think I’m being dramatic. Trust me, I’m not.

There is a monster.

You laugh, but it’s not funny. This monster is real. And it’s festering. It’s growing faster than the heads of a hydra. I’ve seen it with my own eyes. You probably have too, but didn’t register it. Like many monsters, it doesn’t want you to know it exists. Because if you knew, it wouldn’t get from you what it wants…

Your life.

I see you’re vulnerable right now. So I will be quick. But you must listen carefully! You must!

Like many monsters, it was stumbled upon in the woods. The year was 1989. It was thewintertime and a scientist named Timothy B. Lee was completing a research project at a facility in Switzerland. During his lunch break, he took walks through a beautiful trail. He was happy.

Until one day on one of these walks, he heard a bizarre noise coming from the hole of a gnarled, cancerous tree. The noise was clear, guttural.

Uu! Uu! Uu!

Taken aback, Lee peered into the hole and found a spider-like creature. I say spider-like because it was not truly a spider. Yes, it had eight legs and eight eyes. But there was something robotic to it, almost mechanical. As if it was a spider made out of rock and metal.

When the creature saw Lee, it froze and screeched:

Uu! Uu! Uu!

Being a scientist, Lee was intrigued by the creature’s bizarre look and behavior. He pulled out a butterfly net he kept in his backpack and captured the creature, bringing it back to his lab where he could study it. Quickly, he learned that the creature reacted poorly to light. This caused him to transfer it into a cage made of tinted, black glass. He then put a tin of water into the cage along with some food, curious to see what it would do. While the creature simply ignored the food, it had a visceral reaction to the water. It seemed that similar to light, water had an adverse effect.

Based on the noise the creature made, Lee called it the Uu.

Alone in the lab, Lee considered what to do with this Uu. He was not a biologist, but he wasn’t even sure this was a biological being. No biological being would be repulsed by light and water. It was something supernatural, maybe even alien. But as he sat across from the black, glass box, deciding what course to take, he noticed something strange.

The Uu was staring back at him. Its eight eyes locked on him, seemingly studying him. As if in anticipation of something…waiting for Lee to make a move.

Perplexed by this, Lee muttered, “What do you want from me?”

Uu! Uu! Uu!

The Uu croaked, its eight legs coming alive all at once. With rapid, frenetic movements, the Uu scurried from one end of the cage to another, weaving an intricate, glossy web.

After a minute of this, the Uu stopped again, settling back onto the floor of the cage and staring at Lee with its eight, ominous eyes. Lee looked at the Uu and then looked at the web. His mouth opened in shock. The web was no random web. It had been constructed in such a way that the design made letters and the letters made words. And the words made a sentence…

ASK ME ANYTHING

At first, Lee didn’t know how to react. There was no question now that this Uu was no

regular arachnid. It was something beyond science. And while exciting, it also sent shivers down his spine.

After collecting his thoughts, Lee stuttered, “What do you mean?”

The Uu did not move.

“Ask you anything?”

The Uu did not move.

Lee flipped his hands up in confusion, and then asked the first thing that came to mind.

Uu! Uu! Uu!

MARCEL PROUST

Lee gaped in disbelief. The Uu had made another web, answering his innocuous inquiry

of who wrote In Search of Lost Time. Determined to now test the Uu’s limits, he asked another

question. And then another. And then twenty-five more.

Each time the Uu voiced its three-syllabled call and designed a web with the correct

answer. Lee couldn’t believe it. This spider-like creature was not just a weird anomaly.

It was all-knowing.

That was as long as he was asking about factual knowledge. While the Uu could tell him

anything from the wheat economy of the Roman Empire to the record statistics of each Beatles album, it could not answer subjective questions. For when he asked the Uu if his wife loved him, the typical three Uus were replaced by that ominous, blank stare.

Lee concluded that the Uu could look into the mind of man, but not the heart.

Like anyone in this position, Lee decided to get the word out. He determined that the

following day, he would bring the Uu to all his colleagues and have them dissect the creature. He went to bed, practically shaking with anticipation. But when he woke up the next morning, he did not find the Uu in the black glass cage.

Instead he found fifty Uus.

Lee determined the Uu had given birth overnight. Stunned by his box full of spidery

beasts, Lee resolved to not only show the Uu to his colleagues but to instead gift each of them one. This way they could all experience the Uu firsthand.

Within a week, fifty different people in seven different countries had an Uu in their own

black glass cage. Within two weeks, it was two thousand people in thirteen countries. By the end of the year, millions worldwide had their own, personal Uu.

Although some politicians and business people wanted to regulate the Uus, there was no way of regulating a creature that was so easily accessible. Some scientists dissected the Uus in hopes of discerning how they functioned. Interestingly, their efforts revealed that the Uus were in fact not biological; they could not be considered living. This lack of scientific understanding scared some people, but the vast majority only saw the Uus as a force of good. Some even saw them as the forbearers of a golden age. They argued that if everyone could have an Uu, then the general populace would become much more educated. And as information is power, the quality of everyone’s life would increase.

Some even whispered of Utopia: they called it Uutopia.

So after it was determined the Uus were simply an intriguing but harmless natural

phenomenon, they became a household necessity. To own an Uu was like owning a goldfish. But a goldfish that could tell you how many stars were in the Milky Way Galaxy.

By the year 2000, it was considered abnormal to not own an Uu. Everyone had one.

Some even had multiple. Each kept in a black glass cage, no food necessary. Owning an Uu was no longer considered a privilege. It was considered a right.

Uu! Uu! Uu!

Uu! Uu! Uu!

Uu! Uu! Uu!

Information flowed like honey. Productivity had never been better. All because of a

harmless little spider found in the Swiss Alps. And the best part of all, it seemed there were no

negative consequences. None at all.

Then something happened. Something no one expected.

A five year old girl was playing with her family’s Uu after school one day. And knowing

her friend down the block was also playing with her Uu, she asked for something no one had

thought to ask for yet.

She asked the Uu to a send a message to her friend.

Until then, no one would have thought this possible. But at 4:07pm on April 3 rd , 2003, a

message spoken to one Uu appeared in the web of another Uu down the street. The exact

message was as follows:

HAVE YOU EVER SEEN A PINK PONY?

After the parents learned about this, it didn’t take long for the whole world to learn it too. Within a month, the Uus were being used every second of every day to not only answer questions but to now send messages. It was now understood that the Uus not only gave everyone boundless knowledge, but they also connected the world socially. 

The golden age seemed inevitable. 

Brief intermission. You’re a wise reader, aren’t you? You may have figured it out. That the two u’s in Uu make a “double u.” Say it aloud and think of their call. 

Double-u! Double-u! Double-u! 

Ah, now you get it. So far this is just the story of a spooky, but inoffensive creature. But you must understand, the Uu is not the monster. It’s simply the bud of the real monster. So please, don’t lose your attention. Keep listening.  

Your life is on the line. 

Soon enough, having an Uu at the house or at work wasn’t enough. People wanted an Uu all the time. What if they were driving and needed to know directions? The Uu could paint a map with its web. What if they were on a first date and wanted to assure their friends they were safe? The Uu could send their location to the friend’s Uu. Or what if a mother wanted to check in on her kids during the day, seeing how school was going? The Uu could do that too, but it needed to become mobile. It had to!

And as if the Uu sensed this, an inexplainable thing happened. The Uus began birthing smaller and smaller Uus. They shrunk and shrunk until the average Uu was no bigger than a quarter. In accordance with this, they were kept in smaller and smaller black glass cages. People could now take their Uu around town, simply putting it in their purse or slipping it in their pocket. Amazingly enough, it was found that the smaller Uus were also faster at making webs. And they even stopped making their traditional Uu! Uu! Uu! chant. Instead, they acted silently. No one knew why, but no one complained either. 

On top of this, the Uus also began developing a new ability. Instead of just sending messages between people, Uus began spontaneously updating you on other people’s lives. You could be sitting on the bus, and the Uu would suddenly make a web telling you about your friend’s recent trip to Hawaii. Or you could be lying alone in bed and the Uu would inform you about how your cousin and her new husband just bought their dream house. You could even be minding your own business on the toilet, and the Uu could make a web showing how your finances compare to that kid’s who you went to fifth grade with and now has his own start-up. 

The Uu could tell you everything about everyone, even strangers. And most importantly, even if you didn’t ask. 

By 2020, every pocket and every purse was adorned with an Uu. Everyone was connected to everyone, every single moment of every single day. 

However, the Uu had one limiting factor. While the spider-like creature was clearly able to read the human mind, it still could not read the human heart. It provided information and communication, but that was all. Yes, the Uu could be considered a providential gift to humanity, the same way we look at fire or tools. But other than making life more efficient, the Uus didn’t do much else. They informed us and they connected us. But they couldn’t save us from the real problems of being human. The fact that life is hard, no matter how easy you make it. 

And as if the Uus sensed this, as if they realized their own limitations, they reacted. For on a cold, wintery morning in 2023, everyone woke up to the same thing. 

The Uus had mutated. 

Two of their eyes had turned red and two of their legs had grown into larger, bent and deformed ones. While still spider-like in some ways, they now resembled a grasshopper. But what was even more concerning than their physical changes was the universal web they had each created overnight. Every single Uu around the world had made the same message out of their silk. One simple, portentous phrase:

GIVE ME YOUR HAND AND I’LL MAKE YOU HAPPY

No one knew what to make of this. Most people tried to ignore it and use the Uu in its normal capacity. But the Uu refused to move. The same way it had stared into Lee’s eyes all those years ago, it now stared into the eyes of every single human, waiting...

So what did people do? You know exactly what they did because you did it and I did it too. What choice did we have? 

We each opened our Uu’s cage, stuck our hand inside, and received a small prick on the finger. 

We allowed the Uu to bite us. 

By tasting our blood, the Uu now knew what we wanted, what made us feel good, what made us feel great. Through that singular bite, the Uu was able to know our hearts. 

Sometimes even better than we knew our own. 

And what did the Uus do with this knowledge? They continued to form webs with information. They continued to send messages from one person’s Uu to another’s. They even continued giving us insight into each other’s lives. But they now did something else. Something profound. 

They took away our pain. 

For now if you looked at the Uu for more than six seconds, staring into those two red eyes and six black ones, it rubbed its two deformed legs together and made a beautiful music. It was a music that could only be heard by the person who had been bitten by the specific Uu. Some compared it to a personalized dog whistle. I could only hear my Uus music and you could only hear your Uu’s music. To each other, our Uus seemed silent. 

And the music was not even music. It was more of a vibration, a rhythmic beat. As if the Uu could send an individualized rhythm directly into its human’s mind, giving the human the most satisfying feeling. All you had to do was look at the Uu for six seconds and it would rub those legs together and make a vibration that tingled your brain, reducing whatever angst or stress or pain that tormented it. The music of the Uu freed us from our negative thoughts in a way no one could have ever expected. 

Due to this final mutation, people stopped calling these creatures Uus anymore. Instead, people wanted to name them off the rhythms they created. This is how they got the name we now know them as. The true name of the monster. 

The Rithom. 

The Rithom is a monster. You may not see it that way. You may see it as a tool, a way of easing the difficulties of life. But that’s how monsters get in the city gates. Not by storming the walls. But by wearing sheep’s clothing. 

Almost all of us now have a Rithom. When we’re upset, all we have to do is stare the Rithom in its eyes for six seconds and the Rithom rubs its deformed legs together, sending a soothing vibration into our brains. This vibration makes us forget how upset we are. It “cures” us of sadness, grief, boredom, despair, worry, low self-esteem…the list goes on. Whatever you may be suffering from, the Rithom can ease it. Temporarily, yes. But life is temporary, right? 

I began this story with a simple word. Do you remember? 

Attention!

This word…this word is everything. Our life is not dictated by time. Our life is dictated by attention. The root of attention is “attend.” What we put our attention on is what we attend to. What we don’t put our attention on is what we neglect. 

Look around you next time you’re out. You’ll see how much the Rithom controls us. Every free moment we have, this is what the Rithoms take.  They call to us in these moments, these gaps between our “real life.” Whispering: 

You’ve worked hard enough, take a break.

You deserve a little distraction.

I’m only asking for five minutes. You can give five minutes. 

They want our attention. At all costs. And if they had it their way, we would look at them every minute of every day. Because they’re the type of monster that doesn’t feed off our bodies. No, they’re the type of monster that feeds off our minds. 

100 years ago, a virus called H1N1 infected the bodies of over 500 million people. 10% of those – 50 million people – died. Did the H1N1 virus kill people for a purpose? Of course not. It spread because all it knew how to do was spread. 

When the scientists first studied the Rithoms (back then the Uus), they compared them to viruses. They realized that while they weren’t living, they imitated life. Like the H1N1 virus, the Rithoms don’t need a purpose to spread. They spread because that’s what they’re designed to do. Attention is their food and they’ll do anything to get it. The H1N1 virus fed off our physical health. The Rithoms feed off our mental health. 

Although the Rithoms don’t destroy our bodies like H1N1, they destroy our minds. 

Be honest. You feel your Rithom calling even now. You feel the desire to look the Rithom in the eyes, to hear its sweet music and distract your mind from whatever ails it. And part of you doesn’t think the Rithom is all that bad. Even though a greater part of you probably isn’t as easily fooled. 

If you don’t feel it now, you will feel it later. The Rithom will call you, there is no question. Because the Rithom needs your attention. Without your attention it cannot grow. It cannot spread. It cannot survive. 

The Rithom wants you to think it’s harmless. 

It is not.

The Rithom wants you to think it’s free.

It is not. 

The Rithom wants you to think it’s inevitable. 

It is not.

Lest us forget that five years ago, the Rithom did not exist. Forty years ago, the Uu did not even exist. They are new phenomenon and to accept them blindly is naive. 

The Rithom does not have to be listened to. 

The (Algo)Rithom can be defeated. 

So what do we do? How do we fight back against this festering monster? This virus that looks to consume our attention and diminish our minds? 

The first thing is we need to start being honest. 

We are all addicted to the Rithom’s call. Listening to the Rithom is the new smoke break. It may be giving us temporary relief, but at the cost of poisoning our lives. It is our job to stop feeding the monster what it wants. The consequences of failing to do so may not be a physical death, but they will certainly be a mental one. 

A loss of self. An unlived life.

Catch yourself when the Rithom is calling to you. See how often it happens. Ask yourself, “Do I really have control?” And if you don’t, be upset by that. Resignation is acceptance of something you don’t want. Anger is sometimes a motivator for positive change. Because shouldn’t we be upset? If our attention is all we have, shouldn’t we do everything we have to reclaim it? 

So let me ask you, what are you going to do the next time the Rithom calls? Where is your attention going to go? 

What type of life do you want?