The open internet will be a dark forest, beautiful but mostly populated by metal-brains, meatb-brains will retreat to their human only spaces, local Facebook or Instagram where you know everyone in person or WhatsApp chat groups.
I also note that I missed it when it went past the front page at the start of the month. For any others who also missed it - https://news.ycombinator.com/item?id=34243709
https://soundcloud.com/ztutz/sets/iolet-music-from-the-world...
The Thousander Chant is fun if you've got the right audio setup.
https://longnow.org/store/iolet/
> In Neal Stephenson’s new novel Anathem, the Decanarian Erasmus’ daily chore is to ring the Clock bells in his “Math” in a special sequence each day as he chants out the sequence. Those sequences and chants are all based on mathematical formulae that composer and coder David Stutz has put together into an album called Iolet.
It's not much "under" it - but rather the fill your senses with what it would be like to be in the Mynster as each nave did their chats in the great octagonal hall. And while its a passage about the Hundreders...
> We sauntered across the meadow to the Mynster. Even so, we got there in plenty of time, and ended up in the front row, closest to the screen. Voco continued ringing for some minutes after we arrived. Then the eight ringers filed down from their balcony and found places farther back. A choir of Hundreders came out into the chancel and began a monophonic chant.
Or the description of a Thousander chat
> ... As I walked toward it my perceptions cleared suddenly and I shook my head in amazement at my own silliness in having imagined it was an amphibian or a truck. It was plainly a human voice. Singing. Or rather droning, for he had been stuck on the same note the whole time I’d been awake.
> The note changed slightly. Okay, so it wasn’t a drone. It was a chant. A very, very slow one.
> I could have stood there watching and listening for hours. I got the idea—which might have been just my imagination—that {spoilers} was singing a cosmographical chant: a requiem for the stars that were being swallowed up in the dawn. Certainly it was music of cosmographical slowness. Some of the notes went on for longer than I could hold my breath. He must have some trick of breathing and singing at the same time.
Just let the sound fill everything.
Alternatively, email addresses that are necessarily paid for that have maximum sending limits or extra costs above those limits, so those addresses are not profitable for spam bots to use.
I could imagine some kind of “super priority email” that costs a dollar or something, that gets prioritized and is very unlikely to be marked spam.
More ideas: Maybe the amount paid per email sent changes depending on the percent of previous emails marked “accept emails from this sender”. Maybe some percentage of the e-mail fee is given to the recipient of the email.
Note that if a highly spam resistant email account is adopted by everyone the amount of spam sent may fall significantly. Gmail doesn’t count because it still isn’t as good as a system where sending millions of spam emails is simply too expensive.
I'm sure someone else knows the lore better. There is a lot of supporting literature, just not a key component of any stories.
If you’re that good at scaling systems like that someone with legit traffic would be able to pay more than the spam companies.