A title waiting for the inspiration of the next story.
To be continued…
Tag Archives: story
Synching Sympathy Neurons in Our Dreams
Emotionally detached, one can imagine many possibilities.
For instance, are scientific principles, the basic “laws” of the known universe, as ambitious as those who wish to find and report their discovery?
Emotionally attached, one finds that restricting one’s self to the interaction of emotional beings limits the imagining of some possibilities.
The universe is unambitious in and of itself.
Or is it?
A billboard advertising a mini-universe of happiness found within a bottle of flavoured sugar water is real, even if the mini-universe of happiness is not.
Or is it?
What is shocking in one subculture is not necessarily shocking to another.
Will a person who was sexually active with more than one partner find happiness in a marriage to a person who had a happy premarital habit of masturbation?
Can a person who is not sexually attractive to others depend on other merits to peacefully co-exist in a society where sexual attractiveness is a key function of personal happiness and bliss?
In a genderless universe, what does gender have to do with deity worship outside of our species and gender-based species on Earth?
Does a universe have a set of beliefs?
How important is the concept of ancestral belief propagation in a society constantly in flux?
How isolated do you want your subculture to be from subcultures that are inclusive?
A person who is successful in the art of self-promotion in a business of self-promotion is no more successful than a person who is successful in the art of nonself-promotion in a business of nonself-promotion, even if the former is seen more often in society than the latter.
Ubiquity is…well, what is it? What is it not?
Spiders are ubiquitous, successfully spread across the surface of our planet and, thus, successful, are they not?
Yet, where is the celebrity worship culture of spider glorification?
Same for bacteria and other microorganisms.
When a person is just another set of states of energy, we can better understand what we call the future that goes beyond deities, personhood and cults.
Or can we?
3/4 Time in a 3/4 Bed – Confessions of an Elderly Exotic Dancer
Gender or gendre, gendarme or magender?
Research has not cleared up for us the use of a word to designate what was once called the “natural” order of reproducing sets of energy.
Unfortunately, out here past the edge of the Solar System No. 0000000000000000001, as we approach the Origin Planet, labeled “Earth” for a reason I cannot fathom, our information is limited.
That’s why I (or we, if you count my sensors separately) was sent to explore the first planet in the catalogue.
I am told to expect the unexpected.
The only documentation I can safely call authentic is a treatise by one of the sets of energy on Earth, “3/4 Time in a 3/4 Bed – Confessions of an Elderly Exotic Dancer,” written several thousand cycles ago.
Speaking of cycles, have you ever wondered where certain conventional measuring patterns came from?
Why those who record events in only four dimensions insist on using an arbitrary number, 31,557,600 “seconds” in a cycle, is beyond me.
A second I was able to figure out by searching the remnants of an ancient database called the Encyclopedia Britannica: “The energy difference between the hyperfine levels of the ground state in the cesium atom is currently the standard time interval. One atomic second is defined as the time it takes for the cesium frequency to oscillate 9,192,631,770 times.”
I assume a cycle is an important artifact of my existence.
Interesting…hmm, what’s that?
The closer I approach Earth, the stronger the set of signals I pick up.
I, being a network of a set of states of energy, feel myself connecting to nodes that are becoming an extended part of me.
Is there more here than meets my sensors?
A cycle — ah, there it is, coming to me from a large database in the new network nodes — the time that the set of states of energy called Earth takes to complete one orbit around the ball of plasma labeled the Sun.
One mystery solved and another remaining.
Were all elderly exotic dancers a gender called “she” and were they only 3/4 of a set of states of energy?
Well, I guess that’s two mysteries to solve, isn’t it?
The network of which I’ve become a part and it a part of me is cautiously welcoming my approach.
Let’s see what happens next…
Challenge to self…
From now until the end of the year, I’m spending more time developing my own parallel universe and less time reviewing/reading our Earth-based news which fed subsequent satirical blog responses.
Debt-fueled news analysis pièce de résistance du jour
Success is measured decisively
Two data points:
1. A coach fired — one college FBS team, the University of Tennessee Vols, look for a field general to rival General Neyland’s legend.
2. A driver fired up — part-owner of a team that failed to win the 2012 championship, Jeff Gordon, steered his car into victory lane thanks to his team.
As a few primary religions fade in popularity, will former “pagan/heathen” religions regain theirs?
Was the myth of prehistoric goddess worship a myth, legend, misinterpreted symbology or none of the above?
Symbols, like cymbals, crash, but do they clash with the drapes?
Ideas stretched into reality
A Terrorist Tower of Babble Rabble in Runes
Life is one long conversation with the universe, n’est pas?
In shocking news earlier today, the Government Subcommittee for the Management of Fear in the Masses announced that marketers, marketing departments, adverts, advertisers, advertising departments, public relations firms, newspaper/magazine/book publishers/editors/writers, film producers/makers/staff/actors, videographers, photographers, financial institutes, stock traders (human and electronic) who short shares, money lenders, librarians, museum curators and memorabilia/nostalgia collectors are officially labeled as traitorous terrorists — they should be considered extremely dangerous to the wellbeing of all persons, businesses and governments and reported to death squads without hesitation.
Any activity resembling the above, no matter how innocent, including geotagging your location at a place of business, writing a positive/negative review of a product/service you recently purchased, commenting about the news (weather, sports, politics, religion, arts, lifestyles, etc.), or using a product/service in public is deemed suspect.
Anyone caught not reporting such suspicious activities and/or persons are accessories to traitorous terrorism and will receive extra punishment as a reward.
Every violator may be eliminated on sight, no questions asked by the authorities.
If this does not generate sufficient fear in the masses, private/government spying will increase exponentially until you look forward to dying and meeting your Maker/Great One(s), the omniscient/omnipotent Being(s) who knows all your thoughts/lusts/desires/sins/mistakes and will punish you lovingly for them, Heaven/Nirvana having been filled with the first 100,000 worshippers millennia ago as promised, no room for the rest of us, who are now merely playthings of the Maker/Great One(s).
Those who are able to create their own Maker/Great One(s) are exempt from the above law and may proceed without fear throughout society unscathed.
Always a fun situation
Two political points:
- Many in the U.S. Congress are lame ducks, with no aspirations for a political future, meaning they can make waves in the days before their legislative duties are complete.
- In a way, Obama is a lame duck because he can’t be reelected for his political office. So, for the rest of the world, there are four years to cause havoc and mayhem that put the insurance company adverts in perspective.
Let the games begin!
Mass Hypnosis as a Hobby
Training microorganisms to travel between hosts was the easy part.
Getting them to work their way into position, waiting for messages that told the little buddies where to act when…well, that was the safety pin in the flypaper ointment remover.
Kathryn stood in front of the mirror, spinning on point, her skirt twirling in the air like a whirling dervish.
“What are you writing?”
“Our manifesto.”
“Better than the last?”
“Yes.”
She continued her dance practice, an imaginary partner held in her arms.
“You know, this would be a lot more fun if you joined me in the dance sphere.”
I looked up at the wall between us, a one-way mirror.
“Indeed. But it’s easier for me to concentrate here on my writing, sitting in a low-gravity field, than in the zero-gravity sphere.”
She sighed.
“I wish we’d’ve paid for the thought concentrator upgrade for you. Do you know how many of my friends have more fun dancing with their partners, who are working fulltime in their thoughts while preparing for the Inner Solar System Dance-off?”
“Hmm…let me see. A new dance sphere or a thought upgrade? Didn’t we agree the sphere was a better investment?”
“Sure. IF YOU EVER JOINED ME IN HERE!”
Her voice echoed, carried through the wall without need for a sound amplification system.
At first, we programmed microorganisms to attach “naturally,” using atomic interfaces like jigsaw puzzle pieces.
But we wanted a more advanced method of rewiring neural pathways, a means of largescale reconfiguration.
An amateur scientist, working in collaboration with several online amateurs, made the discovery that we bought before it hit the lowlevel interests of bored dilettantes looking for the latest gizmos to brag they had invented but hadn’t introduced to the public yet.
We should have seen it ourselves but, if you can’t outinvent ’em, then outbid the competition!
We can send a batch of microorganisms into a crowd, direct the little buddies toward specific people to “infect” and, like precise surgery, remotely move the microorganisms into place for later activation, completely avoiding overt, obvious, subliminal messaging that can be recorded and analysed by our enemies.
“Darling, is this another one of those manifestos that’s meant to divert the attention of our opponents?”
“Yes, dear. I figure if I can fill up the thoughts of the other dance teams, they won’t be able to concentrate on their dancing, despite their latest, upgraded versions of thought concentrators. There’s more than one way to skin a cat in freefall!”
treetrunkdings 