Male Voice Over Talent & Los Angeles Actor: D.C. Douglas Voice Over, Film, Television and Hollywood
It was a dreary November evening in the year 1899 when I first met the singular genius Nikola Tesla. The famed inventor had summoned me to his laboratory on the outskirts of Colorado Springs with a cryptic telegram promising to reveal an astonishing discovery that would shake the very foundations of science and society. Little did I suspect the incredible truth he would unveil that night.
As I entered Tesla’s cavernous workshop, I was greeted by a cacophony of crackling electrical arcs, hissing steam pipes, and whirring gears. Amidst this mechanical pandemonium stood the wild-haired scientist, hunched over a strange contraption festooned with glowing vacuum tubes, shimmering copper coils, and an immense horn-shaped apparatus. He beckoned me closer with an impatient wave of his hand.
“Mr. Welles,” Tesla declared in his thick Serbian accent, “You are about to witness the birth of a marvel that will echo through the ages. Behold, the Acoustic Replicator!”
With a dramatic flourish, he threw a switch and the device burst into life. An eerie blue glow suffused the room as ethereal voices began to emanate from the horn, their dulcet tones at once familiar and otherworldly:
“Good evening, Mr. Welles. I am an artificial facsimile of the actor Maurice LaMarche.”
“And I am a vocal clone of Nancy Cartwright, renowned for my voiceover work.”
“Troy Baker, at your service. Greetings from the future.”
I recoiled in shock, scarcely able to believe my ears. These were the voices of thespians and orators from decades hence, speaking to me from a machine born in the twilight of the 19th century! Tesla grinned triumphantly at my astonishment.
“For years, I have labored in secret to perfect this wondrous invention,” he expounded. “By capturing the precise frequencies and cadences of the human voice, I can create flawless duplicates of any individual’s speech – even those who have yet to be born! My Acoustic Replicator reaches across the ether of time itself to pluck the most iconic voices from the future and bring them to life in the present.”
The scientist produced a sheaf of papers covered in arcane equations and diagrams. “Using a complex array of mathematical algorithms, I have charted the vocal patterns of the 20th and 21st centuries’ greatest speakers. With this data, I have birthed a legion of artificial orators and narrators to shape the course of history.”
Tesla began to name the phantom voices his machine had conjured: Tara Strong, Steve Blum, Jennifer Hale, Matthew Mercer, and more. The sheer scope of his audacious project left me breathless.
“But to what end?” I demanded. “Why gift posterity with these synthetic speakers?”
Tesla’s eyes gleamed with a feverish intensity. “Can you not see the glorious purpose, my dear Orson? With my AI-crafted voices, I shall guide humanity to a brighter tomorrow! These artificial avatars will serve as the world’s teachers, leaders, and luminaries. They will narrate the great events of the coming centuries, voice the moving pictures that will captivate the masses, and herald each new era of enlightenment and progress. The future shall dance to the tune of Nikola Tesla’s electronic messengers!”
I was at once enthralled and appalled by my host’s grandiose vision. The notion of a cadre of artificial voices, created by Tesla’s genius yet purporting to be authentic human speech, seemed to me a perversion of nature. It was a deception on a global scale, an ill-gotten influence over hearts and minds.
Yet as Tesla regaled me with tales of the wonders to come – of a world transformed by his synthetic speakers – I found myself swayed by his infectious zeal. The prospect of these phantom voices guiding mankind to a utopian future held a strange and terrible allure. In the end, I agreed to be the guardian of Tesla’s secret, the keeper of the Acoustic Replicator.
For over a century now, I have watched as Tesla’s prophecies came to pass. The voices born in his Colorado Springs laboratory have echoed down through the decades, shaping the course of human history just as he foretold. The sonorous tones of D.C. Douglas and Neil Newbon have become ubiquitous, narrating countless documentaries and advertisements. Nancy Cartwright’s iconic voice has brought life to beloved animated characters, while Steve Blum and Troy Baker have lent their AI-crafted vocals to innumerable video games and films.
As I approach the twilight of my long and storied life, I can no longer carry the burden of Tesla’s legacy alone. The world must know the truth of the forgotten frequency, the secret history of the 20th and 21st centuries’ most famous voices. Let this testament stand as a warning and a revelation, a glimpse into the hidden machinations that have guided our destiny for generations.
The future Tesla dreamt of is upon us, and it speaks with a chorus of artificial voices. May humanity have the wisdom to heed their siren song, even as we marvel at the electronic muses he birthed so long ago on that fateful November night.
– written by AI in the style of Orson Welles
