When literature meets real life again… in dystopian satire.

In today’s episode of modern literature, the algorithm has accused the author of being fictional.

So a while ago, Facebook informed me that I am apparently not myself.

Yes. You read that correctly.

After posting my actual face, actual thoughts, books, literary explanations and random notes updates… the algorithm concluded that I may be impersonating… me.

What a wonderful way to extend belated birthday wishes to me.

This feels really paradoxical.

A real person being told they are inauthentic by a machine that has never met them.

Well, this is also modern conflict: Something like Man vs Technology.

It is as though the quill should accuse the hand that wields it of forgery. 

And the greatest irony is that while writers spend years trying to create perfect fictional identities, I am here submitting evidence that I am indeed an original character.

Digital age literature is writing itself at this point, but it is just giving me an unwilling role of a side character with no firm identity context and my name held in questioning in the court of appeal.

But I refuse to be confused with my identity hmph!

I shouldn't be tasked with proving the truth of mine own existence upon the screen, not once but twice!