Everyone could know everything.
Of course that wasn't exactly true. While all knowledge was available
to anyone who wanted to know, there was still the fact that a human
brain simply could not survive holding all the knowledge available to
it, it would simply 素orget.' Then there were the searches. If one
drew too much information into their brain at one time, the organic
brain would crash, leaving a drooling vegetable behind that was of no
use to anyone. Thus even the most ardent researchers were careful
with their searches. Careful not to overload their organic brains.
Late one evening, researching ancient twenty-first century cartoon
artist a middle aged vixen stumbled across a long forgotten directory.
Long ago this information would simple be lost, erased as its rented
space either broke down or the account was deleted. Yet somehow these
odd cartoons still existed. Remaining within human knowledge like
some forgotten dream. For hours she called up each image, some she
found humorous, some not, yet all done with a talent that was
instantly recognizable from file to file.
Finally the last file faded from her mind, carefully erased by her own
internal housekeeping protocols lest she overload. Such talent. Such
a sense of humor. 糎hat a crackpot" she found herself whispering.
Abruplty a face drifted in front of her, actually created within her
mind by her communication protocols. It turned, looked at her.
Though the hair was white, the figure fragile that face was
unmistakable.
"Well my dear. Ready to be Wingerized?" it asked.