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from the all-I-got-was-this-stupid-T-shirt dept.
Caitlin Dewey writes in the Washington Post that she's been using a new service called "Invisible Boyfriend" and that she's fallen in love with it. When you sign up for the service, you design a boyfriend (or girlfriend) to your specifications. "You pick his name, his age, his interests and personality traits. You tell the app if you prefer blonds or brunettes, tall guys or short, guys who like theater or guys who watch sports. Then you swipe your credit card — $25 per month, cha-ching! — and the imaginary man of your dreams starts texting you." Invisible boyfriend is actually boyfriends, plural: The service’s texting operation is powered by CrowdSource, a St. Louis-based tech company that manages 200,000 remote, microtask-focused workers. "When I send a text to the Ryan number saved in my phone, the message routes through Invisible Boyfriend, where it’s anonymized and assigned to some Amazon Turk or Fivrr freelancer. He (or she) gets a couple of cents to respond. He never sees my name or number, and he can’t really have anything like an actual conversation with me." Dewey says that the point of Invisible Boyfriend is to deceive the user’s meddling friends and relatives. "I was newly divorced and got tired of everyone asking if I was dating or seeing someone," says co-founder Matthew Homann. "There seems to be this romance culture in our country where people are looked down upon if they aren't in a relationship."
Evidence suggests that people can be conned into loving just about anything. There is no shortage of stories about couples carrying on “relationships” exclusively via Second Life , the game critic Kate Gray recently published an ode to “Dorian,” a character she fell in love with in a video game, and one anthropologist argues that our relationships are increasingly so mediated by tech that they’ve become indistinguishable from Tamagotchis. “The Internet is a disinhibiting medium, where people’s emotional guard is down,” says Mark Griffiths. “It’s the same phenomenon as the stranger on the train, where you find yourself telling your life story to someone you don’t know.” It’s not exactly the stuff of fairytales, concludes Dewey. "But given enough time and texts—a full 100 are included in my monthly package—I’m pretty sure I could fall for him. I mean, er … them."
(Score: 3, Interesting) by Jeremiah Cornelius on Tuesday January 27 2015, @09:50PM
Christ. What a dystopia. It's hard to know where to begin with a critique.
I'll be down on Fillmore, playing jazz, if anybody wants me...
You're betting on the pantomime horse...
(Score: 4, Funny) by ikanreed on Tuesday January 27 2015, @09:58PM
Oh you just need to buy my cloud-based $50 anti-ennui service. For that nominal fee, any time you feel that everything in society is a shallow facade of meaning placed upon consumeristic cash grabs that actually increase human suffering, simply text your concern to our app. We will then take your message, run it through a sophisticated pattern matching algorithm and deliver you an inspirational quote the highlights the value and meaning of life.
You only have a 5 minute break in your job that consists mostly of busywork and sitting on your ass, nonetheless occupying 40% of your lifetime? We'll replicate an entire meaningful conversation for you!
(Score: 3, Insightful) by dyingtolive on Tuesday January 27 2015, @10:27PM
I both hate you and want to give you money.
Don't blame me, I voted for moose wang!
(Score: 3, Funny) by sigma on Wednesday January 28 2015, @01:07AM
Shut your festering gob, you tit! Your type really makes me puke, you vacuous, coffee-nosed, maloderous, pervert!!!
(Score: 2) by dyingtolive on Wednesday January 28 2015, @01:32AM
Oh, you flatterer!
Don't blame me, I voted for moose wang!
(Score: 0) by Anonymous Coward on Wednesday January 28 2015, @02:01AM
You forgot to ask him how much he was charging for that missive. I'm pretty sure that by responding you are now obligated to pay.
(Score: 3, Funny) by sigma on Wednesday January 28 2015, @02:52AM
Well, It's one pound for a five minute argument, but only eight pounds for a course of ten.