Book Summary — Ready Player One
You can find all my book summaries — here.
1 paragraph summary:
Ready Player One is one of my favourite movies and concepts of what a world would look like when we eventually build online worlds which are just as good or better than the real world. Surprisingly, the book’s story varies widely from the movie, even though the concept remains the same. Personally, I probably preferred the movie because of the visual action elements, but the book is able to cover all the interesting 80’s videogames tid-bits in a lot more detail which is fun.
Some of my favourite quotes and insights below:
Being human totally sucks most of the time. Videogames are the only thing that make life bearable.
And now the conditions at many schools had gotten so terrible that every kid with half a brain was being encouraged to stay at home and attend school online.
Capitalism would inch forward, without my actually having to interact face-to-face with another human being. Which was exactly how I preferred it, thank you.
Luckily, I had access to the OASIS, which was like having an escape hatch into a better reality. The OASIS kept me sane. It was my playground and my preschool, a magical place where anything was possible.
OASIS — the Ontologically Anthropocentric Sensory Immersive Simulation.
New World Interesting Tid-Bits — What the World Could Look Like
In real life, I was nothing but an antisocial hermit. A recluse. A pale-skinned pop culture–obsessed geek. An agoraphobic shut-in, with no real friends, family, or genuine human contact. I was just another sad, lost, lonely soul, wasting his life on a glorified videogame.
The shower worked a lot like an old car wash. I just stood there while it did most of the work, blasting me from all angles with jets of soapy water, then rinsing me off. I had no hair to wash, because the shower also dispensed a nontoxic hair-removing solution that I rubbed all over my face and body. This eliminated the need for me to shave or cut my hair, both hassles I didn’t need. Having smooth skin also helped make sure my haptic suit fit snugly. I looked a little freaky without any eyebrows, but I got used to it.
I stepped into the kitchen and took out a can of Sludge, a high-protein, vitamin D–infused breakfast drink (to help counteract my sunlight deprivation). As I gulped it down, my computer’s sensors silently took note, scanning the barcode and adding the calories to my profile.
But over the past few months, I’d come to see my rig for what it was: an elaborate contraption for deceiving my senses, to allow me to live in a world that didn’t exist. Each component of my rig was a bar in the cell where I had willingly imprisoned myself.