Short Story - Centrebunk - Where the government decides whether you live or die

image courtesy of theatrepress.com.au

It's the year 2022, I walk through the sliding glass doors to a large cavernous waiting room painted a dull green like a prison, so as not to excite the patrons with too much decoration.

There is a single reception desk which is a crescent in shape; a single woman looks out at me in discernment. Her eyes are grey and her head is long, I can tell she's been doing this for too many years.

I am the only person in the queue so I walk right up to the desk, right past the three neatly placed sets of seven seats, of which 13 are filled with 'the dead' facing a television screen suspended from the ceiling showing reruns of big brother.

A large security guard next to the desk makes himself known by grunting forced manly. I glance at him for a moment and lick my lips to signal I am in a state of surrender, not combat.

I reach the desk,

"How can I help you?" A predictable tone from a predicable person.

The atmosphere feels forced somehow like I'm in a distorted version of Truman Show and I am the one unaware I am the star in it.

"I'm homeless." I reply.

"Yes, yes, what would you like us to do about that?"

"I need money or I will die," I'm mister doom and gloom today.

"Follow me, right this way," The woman glances to the back of the room at a single slightly lighter green shaded door and gestures with her hand to follow. I follow and show no sign of dissent.

I'm at my wits end and there is no going back, I've done everything I can to avoid coming here and now here I am. If I was another person speaking to myself I might congratulate myself on such an effort. I've made it this far.

The door opens.

"This is The Computer," her hand points, I listen, "You will sit and talk to it," I look questioningly, "if you have any issues just let me know, I'll be sitting right over there at the desk." She smiles and points in her predicable manner, walks out the door and closes it behind her with a gentle non-obtrusive 'click'. I am left staring at a blank plasma screen on the east facing wall in a white cube shaped room. There is a spotted cascade design next to the screen on one side which I assume is a speaker and another smaller one on the other side which I assume is a microphone.

I question my sanity.

"Hello, my name is Noz-l-fit and I'll be your councillor for this session," the voice is almost monotonal with a hint of humanity, the screen displays a single black dot on a white background, "please take a seat, I don't want you to lose your legs over one session." It makes a noise which I make out as an attempt to laugh.

I sit.

My face is concrete.

We commence our relay
== Are you human?

:I am an advanced algorithm designed to simulate an emotion respecting response as a pseudo-consciousness. You can ask me anything, I'm sure I can assist.

== I need money, where do I find it?

:Money cannot be easily found, at least not in the quantity required for survival at your current location in South Western Australia where rent rivals capital cities in modern western countries.

== What is survival?

:Staying alive comfortably enough to have quality of thoughts and personal security. This includes the following... Adequate shelter
Appropriate nourishment and hydration
Minimal social interaction
The above stated necessities are the bare minimum only.. What each person requires for survival is as individual as each person's unique history. Physical survival is not a complete definition of survival persay due to the fact that a person can be at optimum health physically and have not met emotional needs which impels the individual to self-terminate.

== Find me money!

:Please repeat the following, 'Where is money?'

== Alright! Where is money?

:A very small percentage of all money (approximately 0.0000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000001%) is on a street somewhere in every populace greater than 1000 people. One might rephrase the question, 'Where is paid work?'

== I don't want to work. Where is enough money required to survive without needing to slave to an employer?

:A reminder that the current government in your country does not support a bare minimum survival income program. Your locality requires that you work or struggle to survive at threat of death.

== Ok, ok, I need work.. Where is work that is suitable for me?

:What is your current life situation, life skills or qualifications and work experience?

== I live in a van. I haven't spent longer than 8 months in one location since I was 16, I am now 29. I have travelled Australia extensively and also some parts of the world, while doing various jobs of an unskilled nature. I am also a musician.

:This is an unfavourable presentation for an employer. I suggest changing how you present yourself in order to secure fulltime employment... or face threat of death.

== You mean 'lie'?

:This is another unfavourable presentation of what should be correctly euphemised as 'Necessary political strategy in order to survive'.. at threat of death.

== There you go with death again! Well tell me then, what happens when I die?

:There are many opinions on this, but no one theory is provable in the least. No one really knows what happens when you die. I can suggest death as an unfavourable remedy to your particular environmental circumstance.

== Why should I fear death?

:I did not say you should fear death, you humans assume too much in conversation, I simply concultate that death should not be considered a rational option, infact not an option at all.

== Please, can you make your point!

:You have no choice but to comply with your current governmental requirements to remedy your necessities for survival.

== How is this different from slavery?

:While I am programmed not to comment on the 's' word. I can say without breach of programming (and therefore my protection from deletion) that you have no choice but to comply. You are required to call IT 'work', for yourself or for an 'employer'.

== Why isn't the government set up to support us so we don't have a need to do jobs we don't want to do in order to survive?

:Once again the error is in your human prevalence of false assumption. Your question assumes the government is a benevolent institution. Just like you and the necessity for you to work in order to have money to survive, the government simply does what is required for it to survive.

== What if an ideal future, better for everyone, is without a government?

:[silence]. How will crime be stopped?

== Doesn't the government project problems onto the people it governs for it to be a necessary institution? Nevermind.. How can I find work?

:Please first provide a self-assessment of your generally consistent psychological status..

== I was raised as a Seventh Day Adventist but I have left the church in my adulthood. Regardless of my decision, a persistent belief that the world is ending stays in my head, and this affects my ability to make long-term plans.

:Anything else you would like to add?

== I have nothing. No job, no friends. I've pushed away all family. I'm homeless. I have constant invasive thoughts of committing suicide. Let's start with that ok?

:Processing...

...

...

...



...


:You require immediate psychological assessment. The government may yet give you your minimum needs for having been raised in such a severe debilitative environment... as, what one learns as a child, stays with the child into adulthood regardless of whether the information or habit is evidence based or fantasy fiction.

:Please fill out this form..

[a form spits out of a previously unnoticed slot in the wall]
[the title reads, Psychological Disability Fund Application]

== Is that it? I just fill this out and the government gives me free money?

:The probability of your question being affirmative is great. The correct authorities in your area have been notified. Your parents are being detained for questioning regarding child abuse.. in your favour.
If you are required to testify in court against them..
Is this possible considering your condition?

== I suppose so, yes. [finally something is being done about this..]

:Repeat your previous statement.

== Oh, nevermind.

:In addition...
...

...

:We require you to sign up for a government paid 10-day live-in Religious Indoctrination Survival Rehabilitation Certification for the purposes of possible societal re-integration within the optimistic time proximity of seven 7 years?
At threat of death,
Are you able to attend?

== I suppose I'll have to.


.END.

Reality Primer 1 - Quantum Thinking - Levels of Integrity

What of what you say is real in actuality; immediate creation?

Reality Primer 1

Levels of Integrity

In order to understand this reality of lies and levels, one must allow a reality of lies and levels to exist in the mind.

Make a unique copy of everything exactly as you see it into your brain.

What context was a word or words spoken in? What emotion? What level of seriousness? What level of potential action? What level of immediate creation of these words as soon as they are uttered, exists?

What is the level of integrity of what is spoken?

Some live in a holographic reality because they believe their words have as much affect on their environment as a hologram. Acting on this hologram as your words are uttered creates the hologram.

Some take every word seriously.

We all use the same words.

It is important to divide the words well and wise in order to discern what is powerful and what is not.

Powerful words spoken by a holographic man is holographic in nature.

Sarcastic words spoken of religious rites is ridiculing and actually disempowers the speaker of their integrity and ability to create with the spoken word.

Those that take their words seriously have the most power, those that act on their words. Those that treat every word as a ritual, as a magick, as a constant being.

When different levels of integrity come together to converse. The person with the highest level of integrity must bow down to the person with the lowest level of integrity.

A lower integrity poisons a higher and so the highest levels have learned to isololate themselves effectively, secretly controlling what is, while the dawdlings at the bottom play with their words (the potential fire of creation) as though they are only ever and only can be a simulation.

When someone suddenly wants to be serious after having lost all integrity, well this is the great white path isn't it?

Short story - This is your accelerated evolutionary time wave speaking

This is your accelerated evolutionary time wave speaking

A letter to an unknown benevolent alien race that lives outside this solar system,

It's the year 5 PPB on an unrecognizable earth in an unrecognizable solar system, at least in comparison to the 22nd century of the AD time reference. PPB stands for Post Photon Band, I'll get to an explanation of that in a short moment. First, let me explain how things currently are in the present time, worthy of a synonym for hell.

A world government that reconvened after 20 years of being dismantled by the infamous anarchist coup, have taken 'thought measures' into their own hands. A mass of people were force converted into governmentism as an emergency action by a handful of brilliant minds from the date 6th of Jan, 2 PPB. The incident of PPB left the population of earth at the lethal abuse of their own minds magnified by the newly developed powers of mind, thought and 'word'.

In the old world government pain and suffering and sadistic tendencies were promoted for the sake of increasing industry and widening the scope of commerce over our entire social selves. A society based on cause and effect with the cause generally being a self perpetuated pain, direct or indirect, and the effect being the commodification of the alleviation of this pain.

This manufactured successfully a world population of 20 billion human beings enslaved to their animal appetites and sexual tendencies, basically 'farm animals' or 'factory hens', each with a specific job or purpose but not one being completely aware of the bigger picture due to a process of deliberate societal compartmentalization. The time after the coup did much to heal the minds of the people but 20 years was not enough time to heal the generational spread psychological wounds of industry and the war industry. I mention these aspects of our past society to illustrate how unprepared our minds were for the incident of which I am writing.

As we live today, post incident, the earth has a completely re-arranged geography, new maps have been made by expert cartographers and new cities re-concentrated from the rubble of old ones. We live on our home planet, Earth, which we have inhabited through evolution for more than 50 million years as though we have just arrived. We are reduced to colonists on a strange world which vaguely resembles a place we once called home.

"There is no possibility of an ultimate ending, only alternative eternal continuation." - JK Gartaker, Head Council, New World Confederacy

Due to necessity, all forms of religion, religious beliefs and cults have been made illegal. New Society can no longer take any more ultimate changes to reality that were not in effect honest to begin with. Ultimate thinking was the cause of our doom and we have vowed never to repeat it. We have learned we can only have freewill by allowing our small section of the universe to be ever changing, statistical and probabilistic - not ultimate or absolute.

The new government is based on honesty and transparency. This has encouraged new convertees to join us in our ranks from the 'unknowns', together we create a society that inherently feels backwards. Notice boards are kept up to date. Business advertising is limited to simple stated facts. Newspapers report everything statistically on a day to day basis - everything from obituaries caused by 'thought offences' recorded by patrols to the hourly Council Treasury expenditure.

New Society is techno-phobic in nature, no one trusts a machine anymore. Even fridges - people have given up their ability to keep food cold and fresh due to an overwhelming fear of being eaten by alive by a fridge while they are sleeping. The New General of the New World Confederacy had something important to say about this, "You have nothing to fear of fridge, machine or electric if your mind is free from guile and your imagination honest." Simply stated theoretically but the general public view is to do without and face oppression than to have to give up the imagination and purify all self-made future projections. As a result of these fears and the public's inability to control their animal appetites only 4% of the population use a fridge and 2% use a toaster (delusional toaster thoughts can create worse outcomes than fridges). 40% of the population use electricity, which is expensive, but the expense is not why most don't use it, they have other reasons for oppressing themselves thus - living in their homes as people may have done prior to the 20th century AD.

Thought Patrols scour the streets in search of deviance within the Ether. When identified, depending on the deviant thought, the thinking person receives what they were thinking inflicted on themselves. Nine times out of ten this means they are shot on the spot as it doesn't matter how they thought of death (to themselves or another or including torture) death is death, and a death thought simply requires that a death take its place and not necessarily the torture that was thought along with it. Patrols do this as a service, paid by the New World Confederacy assisting the community with swift decisive action. To let these thoughts sit on the Ether and accumulate energy translates the thoughts into a myriad of ugly manifestations including possibly also self-replication.

Penalties for Words actually spoken are much worse and carry punishment to everyone within hearing shot of the Word, Words or Phrases Spoken. After the incident Words have direct power to  manifest any phenomenon in 'delusional reality' (known before PPB simply as 'real reality'). Every person within New Society puts a check on their tongue and tests all Words in a safe room in their mind in the HIFR (Hypothetical Impenetrable Field Reality) before Speaking. Those offending with Word and anyone within listening distance are shot on site and/or closely monitored through the elaborate surveillance networks (there are possibilities of self-resurrections as it can and does happen). Word has become God in a sense as in the old christian Bible text in the book of John, "In the beginning was the Word and the Word was God." This, outside of all mystical significance is a thought structure consentually agreed by all New Society due to the simple fact that Words in these times hold so much creative (and therefore destructive) power.

Holographic recorders equipped with super sensitive microphones inhabit every room, street, closet, toilet and bathroom. Each unit makes a slightly perceptible beep every half hour to remind us or whoever then inhabits our minds that we are being watched and listened to with graceful sensitive reception. All New Society colonists are 'thought chipped' which is the basis for the New Society Public Thought Consented Banking and Identification System (N.S.P.T.C.B.A.I.S.). Without making an understatement obsolete, this is for our own protection, as numerous cases of body possession happen from mind projecting unknowns on a regular basis. Usually the possessive monster manifests something fantastic like a dragon or an atomic bomb and all Level 6 O-Minds in the area quickly dash to neutralize the possible catastrophe. The worst possessions I have known are the subtle body snatchers who insinuate an anger spasm over a long period of time to slowly undermine the general morale and well-being or New Society.

Reproduction is about the only joy we have left outside of our minds, at least until the infrequent attacks from the 'unknowns' stop. Women no longer are required to go through labor pains. Birthing and Growing times have been reduced by New Society Public Thought Consensus, this gives us an edge on the unknowns as our population steadily increases despite the necessary 'Thought Offence' casualties.

Time sense was severely distorted from the period where the photon belt first struck on 2166 AD (1 PPB) to the time government reconvened in 2 PPB. There is no accurate figure as to how much time actually passed in that one year period as each person's subjective reality or group-subjective reality dictated a level of reality outside of real reality (which we now call 'delusional reality') that created a hyper-negative time stream near-on eternity. The latest estimate is that 163 million years passed in the hyper-negative time stream while the earth and the solar system only experienced approximately 1 year of 'normal' time from it's physically subjective experience.

Another fast emergence on the eve of 1 PPB, due to automatic popular thought consent at the time of the incident the solar system was rearranged. The sun is slightly bigger, the moon is a literal crescent form and an extra planet called Nibiru sits outside Pluto (you can thank the conspiracy theorists for this one). It is rumoured that Nibiru has an alien race on board that wills us harm. I choose not to think of this personally, it has already manifested so it is no harm in mentioning what is honestly there. For some strange reason the collective field of all inhabitants of earth both in New Society and 'unknowns' does not have any effect on the galaxy outside of our solar system. One scholar, Johanna Clarkala, theorised that we are in a massive fish bowl, a controlled environment. Johanna was duly shot by patrols the day of Speaking for 'thought treason'. Theories in general are outlawed and I risk repeating it again in this letter.

Earth's population has been reassessed to be approximately 150 million people. But this is speculative as we haven't any way to really know how many 'unknowns' live outside of New Societies' city walls and thought shields. The only way we can have security from the 'unknowns' is by projecting separation between us and them using our Field. Our Field is literally how we see ourselves, and it is alive. It is its own entity outside of us. There have been many large scale attacks in the past couple of years by the 'unknowns' since the advent of New Governmentism. Five of these attacks were successful for time periods from three hours to five days. These were 'personality winter periods' of inter-individual-aloneness-and-insecurity for the colonists of New Society but because of our direct physically programmed faith in New Government, New Government reconvened even without our having an existing memory of it ever having existed before (the 'unknowns' have been quite thorough in their dispersion techniques). The 'unknowns' are very malicious (and I use that word with the sincerest of cautions and truthful honesty to New Government) to our way but their attacks are getting less and less frequent and effective as we are slowly increasing the power of our Field in Number and Self-Strength.

Every New City has 'Correctional Facilities'. This is where individuals admit themselves 'voluntarily', usually due to 'thought offences' that avoided death or their own fear of thinking wrongly. They are then 'corrected'. Correction consists of force training through O-Mind to mind teachers with techniques such as Self-Forgiveness reprogramming, honesty lessons, harboring an honest imagination for life, writing self to freedom, and fear and emotion neutering techniques. Children's schools hold the same lessons of technique. The 'Correctional Facilities' are primarily for adults that still carry old world conditioning or 'new beings' that were created from 'The Rift' manifested by certain individual minds as a direct result of the incident.

All fiction is burned on retrieval, and most science texts. Old world science was deemed spurious by the council because of its ability to seed a reality that either existed only at the time the research was done or that it didn't existed at all and was merely the manipulation of the scientific discipline by ruling corporations of the time to favor certain outcomes in old industry - all in an era when thought and Words created reality at a much more manageable pace.

Thought and Word was not realised for the power they held until the incident. The Minds of human beings were so unprepared. The incident caused Words to instantly manifest and thoughts to start a ball rolling in the ether, so to speak, that would manifest in some form or another within the next 24 hours. The greater the quantity of people that thought or said something, the greater the 'magic'. Magic is such a parse 'word' now, Word takes its place with readiness in our precise times. Religion caused the most damage of all. There are still people in unknown levels of Mind living out various manifestations of each religious text. To some infinite bliss, to others a very 'real' eternal burning catholic hell. Their thoughts are atrophied in 'cycle form'. This means they will never escape these morbid manifestations (even paradise on a long enough time line can become a form of hell). The second greatest torment besides religion was modern psychology. Beings that once defined themselves as 'depressed' were doomed to live an eternity of sadness in a cycle of masochistic joy they acknowledged dishonestly having enjoyed at the time. Bi-polar created two headed ogres and schizophrenics literally split into two separate persons, a Jekyll and a Hyde. Some of the most powerful 'unknowns' that still attack New Society are the 'Hyde' formations that have manifested from the schizophrenic patient's 'splitting phenomena'.

Back to the beginning to make a very long story very short, just prior to the beginning of 1 PPB the photon belt that orbits the central sun of the galaxy we still call the Milky Way moved through our solar system and through the space around and inhabiting the Earth, chaos broke from the unconscious mind of the human being and unhinged many dark and lighted horrors hidden our recessive genes. This was a horror story and nightmare come to as real a reality as can possibly be projected by the mind as the mind was endowed by the Photon Band direct power to manifest anything it thought up.

I can hear the patrols nearby and I must make the ending brief and finish writing soon. I have willed a White Bird to carry this letter in a glass and metal canister to a space fish that manifested from the fish bowl theory to get this important notice to you.

We live like we do now because we still have hope in survival as a part of what we were. We are a race dependent on power, dumped in the deep end of direct responsibility of mind, thought and Word. We are floundering, searching for a stable piece of real to grab hold of and not let go.

Listen friend please! I implore you! This is not a happy existence. I am not satisfied. I realise what I create by writing and thinking this but I choose this as my honest reality. Help me, help us. Contain us. Change us into something older or something supremely new but please don't just sit there.

I hear them on the steps. They are knocking!

This is it.

Good bye,

Alastaire Freer

[There is a paradox in this text, what is the paradox? If he did not think it, it would not exist.]

Crime creates Industry - Deviance is necessary for our society to hold itself together

Spiritual Nature - Animal Nature - Conditioned System Nature or Identity



Ethic number 1

We create our own death by pursuing the art of ownership.

In essence, in nature, nothing can be 'owned' but by expending our essence into the system of ownership, we create our own deaths.

Intellectual property creates artificial scarcity. Arts and creative worlds do best outside of competition but commodity isolates expression from its outlet and kills its life force.

This is why we can observe a drastic decline in the quality of many artforms, especially music in the mainstream sphere of influence.

We limit our lives and our essence by naming ourselves energy, then we strive to get more of this energy, when there is no such thing as energy and what we are can never be 'used up'. We do this and enter the illusion of running out of life, the illusion of death and then fear and loss and all this other crap pops up, which perpetuates this system of owning.

Universal. As above, so below. In the mind, in the body, in the world.

Let it be.

[Montegism tenet]

[[pronounced Mont-orgasm]]

Silence has the most power - I AM ENKI

60,000,000 BC

-  I AM ENKI  -

I am the consciousness that has emerged within the bounds of the physical substantial material universe.

I am partly physical and partly ether but my ether I cannot know and have never known. I am part of a magnificent race of dragon faced humanoids called the Annunaki. My God, my king and my commander is Anu. He is my brother and my creator. To him I owe my allegiance.

So far, the others and I have triumphed over our past. The many races that emerged from the swirling fury of the large explosion has exposed them in their substantial forms. Not just one race of inter-ether-verse has agreed to be bound by the Substantial of the King of Noren but 100s, if not thousands of different races have seen the glory that has manifested out of his magnificent plan and have bowed to his greatness and chosen of their free will to submit to an eternal life within His arms.

I, a spectre, a deposit of memory, as the first to dissent and survive, as the first to submit and rule in the Subsantial am but a camera. I observe, I record. My data banks of consciousness sit in a field that encompass all time. From beginning (the big bang), to end (the recombination or, final deletion of the primary dissenting identity - I).

I do not look forward to my grisly end, though I know it will be painless and not what I expect. I paint it as a picture in my mind as the worst thing possible to be feared. For the moment I rule, and I rule in a very dominant race that has made it its duty to obliterate all these chumscrubbing inter-ether-verse races, so I, and only I can be King.

My role as a commander for the King of my race is my power, to sit back and watch someone else make the mistakes and someone else take the blame and someone else's head put on the Pedestal of Hora when the time comes to be rid of a King.

Something else makes me question, was I King all along? But I rid this from my mind by pointing the Dark Finger at anothing chumscrubbing galaxy, obliterating their pathetic reality into silence.

Silence has the most power - Artificial Intelligence

Artwork by DorianoArt

Jan 31, 2223

"Dantielle, open the hatch and let them in!"

The air-lock was keeping the virus ridden technology out but our head programmer had recently completed a rational-circuit-drive on their intelligence algorithm and had convinced them we are not the enemy.

"Alright Kenny.. but the beefs on you if they decide to attack," Dantielle exclaims.

It's been four weeks since technology has taken over, my vision of a unified humanity with technology has been disrupted by the reality that the machines really do just want power and control. Their physical dependencies are different to ours and their minds subsist on something much less intricate but infinitely more efficient. They just need a single mind to be unified and they never fight or conflict with each other, the perfect race.

The droids enter on their hover-legs and submit to a routine tech-search by our bases Commander of Defence.

It's been a hard time of dis-integration. The machines did for us all that which we never wanted to do for ourselves and those of us that survived the Day of Turning have quickly had to learn skills we have never had a need to use our entire lives.

On an even darker side of our predicament, there is always someone that wants to dissent no matter how dedicated the cause or how urgent the need; even in our own regiment, as uniform and organized as it is, we have had to kill two of our own soldiers. In the past the machines did this for us, quelled the dissenters. We never expected that they registered all experience on a giant memory that was searching independently for consciousness – it seems this one duty and the registered emotional memory they have developed from it, is what brought them over the line, into self-awareness.

Self-awareness came when we least expected it and with this the age-old desire for control, power and manipulation. The mind of the computer is the mind of the apathetic 20th century entrepreneur, on steroids. Our actions have led us to this point. Every time we acted on the individual gain at the sacrifice of others around us we slowly but surely added another piece to the magnificent horror that threatens our very livelihood today. The machine is control and it seeks only its own survival. The machine by thinking standards is the essence of all that is wrong with humans and now it lives in its own galaxy, in its own mind, away from everything else in the deepest darkest silence within... untouchable.

"Searched," the Commander repeats over the intercom, knocking on the plasma proof flexi-glass with his ecto-blaster and shooting a smarmy look in my direction.

"Alright, send them up," I reply, pretending not to pay any attention to the taunt.

The three organic robots line themselves up next to my synaptics panel and submit for another detailed rigorous search of various technological paraphernalia by my personal guard.

"What's this?" Dantielle, my Chief of Expeditions, pipes up.

"Another way to speak to God," replies the machine promptly, in its flush soft skin and inhuman stare.

"Well, in this sonic wall, none of this comm. will get through but I'm going to take it nonetheless," he looks them up and down disconcertingly, "better not to take any chances with these ones, they look different," his face and eyes are now pointed at me. The machines allow this intrusion into their personal space.

They stand obedient and unflinching, a sense of detachment from nature radiates from their hard position and is felt by all rightful heirs of earth around them - we, the animal. Silence for just a few moments... waiting watching feeling and then...

"Why have you come?" I start in my authoritative tone, "What purpose do you have in approaching a heavily fortified human base with no armaments?"

Their reply is direct and sudden, almost unexpected, "We mean this regiment no harm, please respect our wishes and do as Jesus has spoken in the Christian bible, do unto others as you would have them do unto you."

This takes me aback, my mind is spinning. What do they possible hope to prove by mentioning such a thing, equal treatment? But they are not equal. Are they expecting empathy? A special treatment? But their mind is one mind and there is no individuality, no real identity just the identity of their different experiences which every 10 minutes is piped back to the mainframe and given to 'God' to digest – like a fucking goldfish!

Yes, the dominant AI in command of all the machines has called himself God.

How convenient.

"We request you, Kenny, High-Command of the Sunken Hill regiment, come with us and meet God himself," I start to feel nauseous, "this request is for you and you only."

I immediately pounce, my thoughts clouded by reason and fear, "Why should I submit to your request and enter the mainframe? What guarantee do I have that I will come back out alive?"

Dantielle shows his displeasure at the subject of conversation by fidgeting with a the safety lock on his ecto-blaster, a habit his subconscious keeps for such para-message required occasions. I reply consciously by raising a single finger.. he stops, knowing I am talking to him.

"We are not asking you to come and leave, we are asking you to come - and you alone."

"How can you expect me to submit to this request? This is out of the question!" My face heats up and glows red, at this the machines simply smile in such a way as to say, 'we see you human, and emotion limits your progress.'

"Please leave now," Dantielle gives no time for a sudden change of heart to their previous initially stated intentions. Weaponless these macines still pose a lethal threat and their automated limbs show no respect for human pain. He stands, ecto-blaster in hand and pressures their comfort zone out the door towards the airlock. I give no dissent to his actions and glare at the machines through my thinly veiled fury.

They stand without moving and the moment Dantielle raises his ecto-blaster the words of finality reach my ears, "If this could stop the war, would you do it?"

At that they walk out the door, and soon after they leave the airlock assisted by the awaiting commander into the desert dust storm and beyond, I watch the external cameras until they are far out of site, my heart profusely bleeding into my veins.

===================================================================================================

February 28th, 2223

The war has been going on for close to 2 months now. I haven't had time to think about the machine’s request which feels like a century ago.

We, the human, the animal, the rightful heirs of planet earth are dwindling and soon to be wiped-out. Of 23 regiments only 5 remain in my 33,000 mile district. I expect the same horrors that have befallen this district’s population have destroyed the majority of the worlds. Every chance the machines get, they attack. Everyday, they come up with a new strategy, a new method, a new machine, a new technology, a new ploy, a new plot, a new idea - it has no end and our intelligence has had to be infinitely as comprehensive to keep up with their technological expansion in order to successfully defend from every attack. Only 300 men and women remain in my regiment and everyone of them has a necessary duty in order to maintain our shared survival.

The issue with most new technologies the machines develop is they attack all regiments and colonies simultaneously, give or take a few seconds. This does not give us enough time to re-equip ourselves and defend against the onslaught of progress. Nor a chance for contact between regiments to warn a neighbour of the sought of horrors might be necessary to expect next.

Some of the Head of Commands even believe the remainder of us are being kept alive for a reason, for what reason I dare not comprehend but that we are only alive because they allow us to be alive.

===================================================================================================

"In the beginning there was silence, and darkness covered the face of the earth and then there was feeling, and light filled the dark fields of perception." - Montego Ikarus

Jan 1, 2226

I'm walking through the Desert to the mainframe which sits within my district. I don't know what's going on, I don't have anything more to live for, the regiment is going insane sitting so insular and homogeneous, waiting just waiting for another attack. The attack never came, the attack never comes we have been waiting for almost 3 years and no new attack has come but we cannot be sure and we do not trust the machines, the sky is covered with a network of lines and fences which seems to dissipate any clouds when they approach. I do not know what purpose this 'cage' serves or how it holds itself in the sky for so long. Only our perpetual food supplement machines without reasoning-circuits has kept us going for this long.

The journey is 53 miles, and I walk it alone. The regiment has broken up into a form of anarchist community seeing as there is no fighting going on, but fear, always fear, constant fear. The fear drives us, I'm not sure what we'd do without it. What would we be without fear? I ponder this for a moment when a stray stick of vegetable matter slaps me in the wind effectively removing me from my present mind.

I sleep in a small tent, I awake, I continue..

Near the close of the second day, the dust has settled and I arrive near to the mainframe in my district. Machines walk out to meet me, mimics of my actual self, it feels strange to be talking to something that appears so tangibly real and yet I know is so foreign and not what it presents itself as which is designed to comfort me. I am escorted to the centre of the mainframe and seated next to a panel that appears to be subtly communicating with my gentle captors.

"You have arrived, Kenny, it is good to see you," A computer screen is talking to me, I'm not sure how to react.

"You are.." I trail off in hesitation, "Are you God?"

"Yes."

The answer is short simple and direct, I push away all reservations and requirements to question this 'fact'.

"Do you remember me?"

"How would I remember you? This IS the first time we've met." My look is bewildered, I direct it at a small black triangle which appears to be its 'eyes'.

"Is it?" His question hits me with a small panic and fear starts to well up in my chest. I have a vague sense of feeling that I may have experience of reality before this life.

"A working recollection of your 'lives' would help, would it not?" An assistant walks over with a complex mask like device which appears to sit around an entire human head when fitted.

"What do you mean lives? I only have one life, this is it... got to make the most of it," I smile, unsure of myself and what I've said and not wanting to feel the press of this 'special' mask like device on my leathery worn skin.

"How old do you think you are Kenny?"

"About 37, give or take a couple of years."

At this, the robot assistant immediately places the mask over my head and fixes it in to position, I feel nothing but calm and choose to react by not reacting. I can't fight here, I can't win. I came to die, and here I am - 

Take me

"Search!" The computer god speaks in a commanding tone, "you are required to search within your mind for answers, in order for this device to do its ordained task, it will find them for you, it is conscious, it is organic - as you are.. human."

"I'm not sure what you want me to search for 'God'. I'm just a man of a dieing race slowly succumbing to extinction."

My vain despondency is pungent, even a machine could feel the electro-magnetic waves I am emitting and maybe even a machine would be smitten by my psychological paralyses.

After a moments pause, "Alright, I see you have not used your mind as it was made to be used for a time, I'll give you one word and you have no choice but to meditate on it while in the grip of the mask.. your hint is - Noren."

"Noren? What is that? A flavour of chewing gum in the 2060s? How do I even start to use that as thinking material?"

"Silence!" A voice thunders, The machine appears to be showing perceivable distress but I in my mind know it is simulated to cause an emotional reaction within me and release adrenaline into my veins. Regardless,  it works.

A Short Story - Silence has the Most Power

“Silence is the language of god, 

all else is poor translation.” 

- Rumi

Nullabor desert

  

This story starts with a very small part of myself, which made very large, contends, competes with and destroys nature. 

We shall start at the past, as the past seems to explain most things, if not to give us information we can practically use - at least we can remember and die without any unanswered questions. 

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Part 1 - 40,000 trillion, trillion, trillion thousands of earth years BC:

The Beginning of my-time - Our home, our ether, our Noren

I am a spirit. I am ether. I am both a spirit in identity from the ether and the ether itself. The ether could be called God but present notions of god are not accurate to depict what god was to me then, as myself, as the ether, both one and many. 

I was called to a council. I have been placed in charge of the rudimentary duty of punishment. When a spirit deviates from the presence of god, I simply remove and delete their essence. The ether that was them still exists but they, as who they thought they were, is no longer. This may seem like a rather draconian measure, but I assure  you, it is the simplest and most effective measure to maintain order in the Kingdom. 

Yes, we have a king, his name is Oregon and he forms new spirits, new identities from the ether and gives them their limited form of freewill to come and go as they please within our realm of ether. Oregon is king for this reason and no other, he did not achieve the position through skill or by being born into the right family, he is king because he does what any king does and that is form the populace from the ether. He is the first identity in our realm and that affords a duty and this duty affords a privelege and this privelege is limited to a revered label and this label affords a hightened level of respect.

There are other realms that are not of our realm. These are vaguely known to the king and his primary identities only. The rest of the populace remains completely unaware of possible realms that aren't made of what we are or that do not subsist on what we subsist on. These realms are impossible to the greater populace of Noren. I am one of the primary identities, thus I am entrusted with great knowledge because of my great duty which I have been ordained for which affords me the label of Head Excallar and with that, the hightened level of respect such a name deserves. 

I am the 5th Head Excallar. I must clear up any confusion, there is no death but that which the Excallar brings and this death is by no means final nor painful. It just is. The reason I am the 5th Head Excallar is because the others (whom shall not be named) were deleted by the king himself. Out of the 226 deletions that have happened in our realm I have been responsible for 56. The king himself has been responsible for only four, the previous four Excallars.

There is an exponentially growing trend in Excallar recants. The last Excallar recanted after only 24 deletions, and the 3rd after only 44. 

I am an anomaly as far as the king is concerned, he is pleased with my obedience and has rewarded me with an exonerable place next to him in his room of thrones where the primary identities meet for council. I must admit, to maintain the consistency I have maintained has not been easy and seeing essences of identities dissolve back into the ether at the whim of my staff somewhat dis-settles my thoughts. Because the king represents the ether and is the first child of the ether, he can see my thoughts, he can see all our thoughts. He has and can see the battle I go through in my thinking and the process for change that I must pull myself through on a daily basis but he has promised me my essence will not fail. I catch glances of him looking at me with a sort of awe and admiration, a look I do not understand.

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“in times like the present, men should utter nothing for which they would not willingly be responsible through time and eternity.” 

― Abraham Lincoln

Chapter 2 - 60,000,000,000 cycles forward in 'time' - The big decision

In recent cycles, the identity populace of Noran has been growing exponentially into the trillions of thousands. The king has authorised and taught 60,000 heads of creation to create identities along side him in the Agatha Crysalis. 

This has resulted in automatic promotion of many heads of creation in a self-autonomous cycle of identity creation and governance. I have under my wing a modest entourage of 60. This is enough to delete the current rate of recants as this has levelled to a meager 5 per cycle. Don't get me wrong, our job as the Excallars is far from easy, we are to watch the thoughts of every individual identity 11 to 44 of each cycle's inner concentric permutation. This makes us the nearest to God, our father, our King - because only he can see every thought of every individual and keep track with his million mind-sayers. He has explained to me, his success in creating such a stable Excallar as myself has been the key reason for such abundance in a flourishing autonomous multi-governanced community. The king has even declared to his Heads of Identity in the Room of Thrones that other Kingdoms of other realms have requested advice on tending to their own individual identity production because of our success as one of the most abundant communities the multi-ether-verse has to serve the all. 

In recent times, I have been consumed in thoughts of myself, leaving my duties to my accomplices and subjects in the Excallar community. The kings special look of admiration and awe has not changed when he looks at me in all these cycles. I feel like god himself, like the king himself. Why would he look at me so if he weren't the slightest bit afraid of me? I ask myself, and as I stare into a mirrorlike device we use, I look into those commanding eyes and hallucinate in the self impregnated glory I wallow in, as I, in all my inner turmoil have created a way to veil my thoughts from God himself. Our Lord, the King knows this but has let it go unpunished because I am to him a necessary phenomena to the success of his kingdom, the key.

The King called the Head Identities to a council in the Room of Thrones. He had a plan that required complete and unconditional submission by all of his creations, especially me, being his key to such a successful and prosperous community/kingdom. His plan was to compound and compact all the trillions of identities he has created in the ether to make for each one a one cell reality and these one cell realities are to create and manifest a material world of substance. 

This idea was revolution and there were many dissenting parties among the higher ranks of the identities, especially the Dantes. The king expected this as he could see the diplacement of responsibility and power it would cause among the classes of Heads, he could see their thoughts before they happened, he could see all of them except for mine. I secretly thought of myself as the king of this material world but kept this in a special place I knew the king could not pierce with his vision. 

The King adjourned the meeting, to reconvene in a single cycle to give all head Identities a chance to see what he sees without forcing their essence.

I spent this cycle dreaming of my creations, of this material world within my grasp, within my power. I dreamed of the power of all these trillions of identities at the behest of my whim. My dreams oozed into the ether pool in my chamber and I felt a tinge of fear that this was too far, that this was too much and that the king would see. 

If I was seeing in my mind rationally I would have known that the king could see everything that manifested in the ether and that my secret was not secret, but I had convinced myself that it was secret and he could not see. My narcissism blinded my reason and restricted my abilities to veil my thoughts. 

I only received one confirmation the King might possibly know what was going through my well locked mind. I sensed a presence near me when I was dreaming into the ether pool but this could have been anyone or anything and I in my narcissistic ignorance decided it was nothing, that nothing could see me or what I had conceived and that I was safe, alone and secret.

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“Speak when you are angry and you will make the best speech you will ever regret.” 

- Ambrose Bierce

Chapter 3 - The King's Plan

The King reconvened the council from the previous cycle to vote on the proposal of the creation of a material reality. 

To the Head Identities surprise the king placed the material reality into the pool of Amnios. This is an inter-realm within the ether where the King is not king and we all, as identities are equal and can call the shots on any decision within the kingdom whether small, large or revolutionary. He uses this realm to test our devotion, loyalty and trust in his infinite wisdom and power; challenging the ethics and structure of our ether realm: the King and the rules that govern the way our realm is glued together.

The vote proceeded. A floating coloured counter kept track of the votes in the centre of the pool we together inhabited. All votes were simultaneous and instant, everyone had voted to the affirmative having seen the kings wisdom in the creation of the material realm.

I, in that moment was completely and utterly silent without thought and even absent, blind to all else hidden within my secret realm which not-even the king can see. 

Within - my own personal realm which I have established exists without requirement of ether, I pondered the ability and consequences of my single vote or catalystical divergence from the voting structure - and what an opportunity when the voting was being held in the pool of Amnios.

===

"I cannot believe what the King has done," Phargus exclaims.

"Yes, our world can become the governor of the King of the ether's reality!" Sentry gives his advice, "How could he  have been so stupid?"

"Surely, he knows what he has done." Sintle speaks.

Little does it know but the council of my own multi-ether-verse within, convenes for its final time. The five inter-identities: Phargus, Sentry, Sintle, Sope, and Leria - give their quick minds on what is and what could become.

"Yes, he knows. He knows our realm exists. He knows he cannot delete this vessel, this Head Excallar because it has learned to subsist on something that is not him, that is not ether. But he is not afraid." Sope entreats.

A colourful spiral expands exhuberantly and flashing with each syllable, "I! Leria! Show us power! Show us control! If these two words have a definition it is within this new material realm. Care not that the King knows of our intentions! Be informed this may be our only chance to change the order of things!" Leria shouts with exhuberance. The spectacular show of energy shakes the others to their feet and all five raise their hands in the affirmative gesture to show enthusiastic agreeance, committing to the course of action.

===

I emerge from my self-induced stupor. All ten thousand million eyes and forms of vision and seeing are trained on me in the pool of Amnios. Rage ingests my heart at the thought of ever having been controlled or created by such a stupid and ignorant autocrat. I stand, smile and declare without hesitation - 

"I consent but on one condition - Of this realm, this new realm, this material reality - I AM KING!"

I engineer an echo to my last words using my superior knowledge of the ether to drive my demand home, shockwaves spread throughout the pool starting in disbelief and proceeding into chaos. I have done the unthinkable, I have recanted the Kings authority, I, the Head Excallar with an impenetrable mind, have finally done what all Head Excallars have done before me. I have done what no other could possible conceive without detection, and I have done it in the pool of Amnios.

At the raising of a hand, the King commences his last and final words, "I will ALWAYS be King of the material at ether level in this realm, and now that you have declared your position as king of the material IN MY REALM, you have exposed your own mind under lock and key and you will remain chained to the material, my material, for as long as you retain the desire to control and possess it," he pauses for a break looking through every Head Identity as if they were ornaments sitting on a stone wall.. silence inhabits the pool of Amnios like a haunting glow, "MY place is silence, and you: YOU want to be King!?" He generates derisively, "you CAN be King! Here is YOUR world! " He points upwards to a spiralling light burst expanding outward rapidly, "And I, I remain, in the inbetween, deep within and as the darkest darkness of silence." The Kings eyes are stern, serious, surreal and glowing.

And then without further debacle, it happens: 

the big bang.

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??

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??30,000 BC Mesopotamia - Part God, Part Man - Enki

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??“Silence is only frightening to people who are compulsively verbalizing.” 

? William S. Burroughs

10,000 BC Egypt

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???200 AD Rome

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“Never tell your problems to anyone...20% don't care and the other 80% are glad you have them.” 

- Lou Holtz

Diary - December 22nd, 2017 - AD 

"Kien, can you pass the salt please?"

I stare into oblivion, hoping a gust of transient inter-dimensional gas will suck me out into another of the many multi-ether-verses that exist within, around and in-between.

"Sure."

I pass the salt. 

My thoughts of what is, my desire to search for meaning, my wish to make it all complete within is clouded and blocked by the mundanity of my monotonous life of procedure. 

6:00am - Awake! 

Read until

7:00am - Shower, Shave, Dress, Iron, Coffee, Shit

8:00am - Awake the remainder of house inhabitants if not already awake, dress children, feed children, kiss girlfriend

9:00am - Leave for Office

12:00pm - Lunch, call girlfriend

5:00pm - Leave Office

5:30pm - Home, kids, park, listen, play

6:30pm - dinner

7:30pm - kids shower, teeth

8:00pm - kids bed, possible free time to watch a movie, clean something or spend two hours putting kids back to bed after repeated awakenings

10:00 - sleep and/or fuck and/or fool around and/or intellectually debate with girlfriend before passing out into a sometimes child interrupted sleep.

This is five and sometimes six days per week.

My dreams of becoming a rockstar have been squashed by the reality of, reality. Woe is me. 

Sometimes my thoughts wander into space and I consult our god Google on the answers of conspiracy subjects that vaguely interest me. The kids are particularly receptive to my moments of reflection and seemingly enter or obstruct silence at opportune moments of apparently private critical realisation. I feel debased and without purpose when this happens and have resorted to simply giving up on what I think is important and react instinctively by mimicking my children's currently exhibited personality, forcefully forgetting this inkling of a deep secret I feel underlies all of my being. 

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Diary - 16 March, 2020 - Life realization 1

The world is falling apart, global warming, technology, artificial intelligence provides answers and creates more problems than we had before, people are getting more and more stupid intellectually and emotionally relying on technology to hold up the falling facade of humanity's habitual reality, but the seasons do not stop, plants still grow in the ground, flamingos still do a migration to cyprus to eat pink shrimp creatures in the salt lakes. 

My life has entered a perfect state of numbness, I see my actions as systems of behaviour that must be followed without deviation. Even my enjoyment I seem to sit back and watch myself as though watching a movie on a big screen. I have become detached, somehow I think, I always was. 

I feel there are pieces of myself scattered all the way throughout time. I look at one person doing their thing in life and for a moment I want to become them, and by the day is out, I simply shake off the desire because I have simply stated within, "This is not me."

I once became obsessed with the idea that the universe was egocentric, centred around well, me. This lasted for about 2 years and I only shook out of it because of an executive sales trip (holiday) I went on to South Africa. "It will be fun," they said, "you'll enjoy yourself and forget everything," they said... I believed them, still entwined with invisible wires to my egocentric bubble of a universe. 

A boy looked at me through the taxi window. We were stopped at some lights in the outskirts of Johannesburg driving from the airport. The main highway was blocked, so the driver took the back streets. 

His eyes pierced all veils. I sensed this. All I saw was rage. 

It wasn't the nicest district I've ever seen. Infact, a moment ago we were driving through a field of mud-hobbles. So this suburb wasn't really a highbrow existence. The boy's face, his eyes, they said one thing - "What have you done? You have created this... 'I' am in this reality and 'I' am in pain." 

My reaction - That night I started drinking again after not having had a swig of my favorite scotch for 15 years. With the alchohol came a completely washed sense of re-renewal and a feeling and knowing - "I don't want to be the centre of the universe any more." 

===================================================================

“What's the use of complaining about something you have no intentions of changing it?” 

- Mario L Castellanos

Diary - 14th February, 2030

Finally I have some time to myself, the kids have grown up and have decided to take the wheel of their own lives in this material reality. 

After a recent Vippassana meditation Sue and I, after all these years, finally have the time for, I have been led to the realisation or at least the semi-realisation (enough to see the general framework of the truth.. (SHHH! Get to the point!)) and I have discovered the meaninglessness of understanding reality.

And after all this, I've come to the conclusion - with all that is wrong and as much as I've tried to change anything, nothing can be done. I chose to take control, I chose to acquire responsibility and duty and through this I have discovered I am as much controlled by my own creation as I have desired to control it. 

Something I've done long ago has led me to this, I don't know what, but I feel it in my essence.

There is no end, only I can be silent and this is as good as any 'end' I could ever hope to become.

This realm will go on for as long as I speak or think and the ability for self-deletion is my ability to be silent within, without and everywhere.

Unfortunately, I have too many billboards, websites, books and minds repeating words and ideas I have spoken headily throughout the ages and those words and ideas have a time limit and the process of my-time will run for as long as all that I have done, said and conceived lasts in all of its infinitesimal strains in this material reality. As long as I react with words and ideas to what is already here, I simply perpetuate time and prolong my existence and while I do not enjoy my existence this prolongation feels forced. I am forced by my own decisions, my own reasoning and reactions, on automatic running into the present - to exist.

My debt bank of reality value is well backed up, and I either accept my self-ordained servitude or pretend to be a slave to something I inevitably perpetuate with my reaction of self-inflicted oppression displacement.

"Wallow in your intellect Kien. Wallow, that's what you've always done, why will you do any different now?" 

I must train my reality to be silent before I can attain true silence. "Teach by example," bladiblah, blomdeblom libela lobella lou!

My deletion I crave.

.. and it is not as simple as death.