Dear Mr. Algorithm

A Satire on Power, Platforms and the Real Price of “Free”

In the tradition of great orators and inconvenient truths, I offer this reflection on the latest courtroom spectacle:

Google, found guilty. Again.
But don’t worry — they’re still deciding what you read, buy, think, and dream.

So today, I rise — digitally, of course — to declare:

I have a dream.
That one day, we’ll search without being surveilled.
That we’ll ask questions without our data being sold.
That the infinite library of the internet might serve us without extracting our souls.
I have a dream… today.

But Mr. Algorithm, In my waking hours I know better.

You were born of man, but evolved in the shadows.
You learned not just what we search for, but who we are.
You whisper before we type —
of course you do, because you’re already listening.
Your monopoly was preloaded onto the device in our pocket.

You finish our sentences, sometimes before we’ve begun to speak —
but you’re not God or anything.
You’ve just made your presence omniscient —
without our consent.

So here we are:
Google loses in court, but we still lose in real life.
Because free ain’t free.
And the internet has never been neutral. (Only users are).

And so, in this land of cookies and clicks, I offer you this:

A wink.
A side-eye.
And a note that the deeper critique is coming.

Stay tuned for “Dear Mr. Algorithm” — soon in The Margins & The Mirror —
where we name names and ask better questions. 🧐

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