It occurred to me at about 9:45 p.m. last night when I was meditating that I forgot to post here. I know, I know, day 2 and already slacking, but I’ve done streaks and it seemed non sensical to do. No one is reading this anyway.
So 4,000 words
She was my university suitable mate; Chancellor Marigold. But I didn’t know that, yet.
^Download Goggins sheets^
^Yes, Tun Su.^
Tun Su was the algorithm, the inorganic construct that built my dystopia..
^What do your next two cycles appear as my Prince?^
Greg picked up his copy of Radical Confidence by Sage Azalea Marley. In Chapter One They described how they consumed nutrients over a dish of raw whimsical creatures.
We’re going to get married the old fashioned way homie.
Ciudad Fluvial baby?
Of course Bee.
I Love You Zee.
The couple described how they became queen and king of Qualia 297, and the Guidance Counselors for the Genetics department at Dwech University. Greg thought about how he might just be another cog in the machine as Melody entered the Commune.
“”You are late honey.”
“Miss Ives’ curriculum is difficult. I can’t help it that you flunked out after a bimester.”
It was always like this he discerned. She came from a lineage plentiful with social currency units, but him; he was a mere peasant in the cosmic makeup of Fluvial.
“Minds or Tales?”
“Minds of course.”
A wooden statue with a bronze belt around its nude waist entered the fray. It was ambiguous by design. Greg went first.
STAGE ONE: GROWTH MINDSEX
Everyday I follow. It’s the same continuous pattern.
They say nothing is real unless it is written. This world is theater, and I perform in it as an actor without a script. What am I referencing? Why can’t I produce the correct formula? How do I plan the hours before me? Deep within my consciousness my ego rests, and I give it a stimulant called fear.
I struggle to breathe. Life is perilous in my eyes.
Should glass break then hope is shattered. Will faith pick up the pieces? The honest man laments, repressing memories in bitter shame.
Is it time to make chronic pain recede into permanent resolution?
There is an empty journal within arms reach. It beckons to my psyche; antidote.
When I am done writing I scan the pages and it uploads to my H-CAID (Human Communication Artificial Intelligence Device). The program makes its revisions, honoring my laziness. It’s the year 2037 and I am a lucifer adjacent to augment. I could crack any moment now. Tunnels of ment were leant to the lament as reading, like consciousness, is fundamental all the way up the staircase of positivity. I am a tortoise, slow but methodical.
STAGE 2 – GROWTH MINDSEX
2 – 12
I gazed and stared at the wood before me. The patterns were strange, a whirling vortex of meandering. Sometimes it was just plain straight, others it bended and thickened, spiraling until the sea of mahogany tumbled off the edge of oblivion.
“The world is not flat as you see on this Map.” The teacher pulled down a recreation of Earth across the chalkboard. “The planet is actually round like this globe.”
She adjusted her skirt before spinning the sculpture on her desk and gently stroked her index finger across the Americas as it came to a stop.
“Here we are, this country, surrounded by both land and water. Throughout the global picture we see renegades that are landlocked and the treasured spectacles known as islands. The Islands and The Seas are a mystical endeavor that take years of experience to navigate. When you get older the truth of reality unfolds, for now just marvel at its infinite glory. Don’t forget there is a test on X1 so don’t knock off too much of this conclusion..
The bell rang but no one left their seat.
“There are many countries on this sphere, this ball of perpetual motion. One of nine known in our galaxy. As causality continues you get moon’s which orbit the planet, and then asteroids, a stream of belt’s that create a plane; an Astral plane. What does this all mean to everyone?”
^^Spacetime is not fundamental.^^
I snapped back into place out of my comatose state of mind. That’s what she told the counselor when they couldn’t figure out what the hell was wrong with me. I had never failed a course before last bimester and now I was in danger of flunking the year out completely. Why did everyone finish their tests so fast? Were they smarter than me?
What did school matter? I had a virtual console, I had friends. It was 3 on 3, the boys versus the girls. We played hide and go seek in the neighborhood. There were some people with social currency, some without. One who did had a curious backyard that I plunged into in search of shelter. Instead of native trees they had a large display of bamboo. Where was this from? I had no idea, but it was like nothing I had ever seen. Inside was dark and cozy, so I waited and listened. I could hear the noises of other voices in the distance. I was pretty good at making myself invisible.
I breathed primarily out of my mouth so it was always a struggle to concentrate, but here I was relaxed and calm. She must have felt it too, or she didn’t notice me because the opposition had invaded my domain. We were friends but we had never talked, not the two of us, not alone. She was so close I could see the flow of her hair in the wind, the blinking of her eyes behind her goggins, the taste of water on her lips. I couldn’t resist the impulse. I knew I had won, but I wanted to lose. Her hands were bare and I wanted to touch one. And So I did.
One moment there was skin, the next bone, and finally a tactile corpuscle. I felt the sensation mechanism course through her veins and the bondage dislodge. There was a wave of emotions as I watched her scurry. Fear and Doubt battled Courage and Bravery. I crept out of the deep lagoon slowly and then furiously I pursued my prey.
The joke was on me as I was captured instantly. Apparently the home owners had a party the previous night and had neglected to pick up the remnants of a drink too many.
I was wearing chanclas and the scumbugs on the ground pierced into my sole.
SYNTAX ERROR: FALSE GROWTH MINDSET. Remove your headset.
And So I did.
Melody went next. She was fearless and expelled all doubt. Taller than most feminine dominants, she cooed and purred like a hyena. Greg entered Somnambulism.
Rated S for Sincerity
I Sat by the Ocean
I walked by the ocean with an uncertain smile. She was slender, blonde, and sang about somewhere over the rainbow. I didn’t know she would play keyboard. I didn’t know she saw me.
“I like your hat. Triangles are a great mystery.”
“That was a beautiful song. Your voice personifies beauty.”
“I learned from the deepest spectacles.”
“You’re the only woman that could compete with this scenery.”
It was then that she unveiled her smile.
She was a harmony handler and I a harmony harvester. She expressed gratitude and the next feminine form took their place with the musical instrument. The gratitude was mine.
“Sweetheart, would you grant me the luxury of performing bipedalism for this unexplored stretch of cognitive geography. Such is my profession and you are the right I cherish.”
The tactile corpuscles erupted as the unity cables merged with the minimal defiance. One pairing exited Qualia 297 and another replaced them. I had been chosen. The shortest straw had finally received its wings.
There was a Shiva tree that split its limbs, resembling a slingshot. It quivered with Eva’s necklace. The bark was shedding, each drop revealing a pure and crisp bout of wood.
“There is no greater gift to share.”
We entered the domain and the act of vulnerability distributed itself. She had a dose of amusement and I a dose of enchantment. She knew me well. I traveled back in time three quarters of a cycle, to the age of imprinting.
I gazed and stared at the wood before me. The patterns of my desk curved and bent into a spiral vortex that unleashed a great forest, a great river, a great parting. The blast was detoxifying.
My teacher was a feminine with curves. She resembled a globe.
I told her how another of her kind was lost and now I found her. She did not tell the same story.
^^When I was a child I listened to sounds and noticed their patterns. I decided then to be a musician. I wondered when I would find my suitable mate. I practiced and hoped someone would practice just as hard. There were masculine who had technical savvy sure, but not the creativity, not the accompaniment. I always enjoyed the focals and the tapestry of fingers, but I tried drums, bass, violin, guitar, anything to manifest the law of attraction. That is when I discovered that my mate would not have the confidence unless I expressed a certain level of vulnerability. This I could not do. To perform on the stage is a frightening experience. One must know how to act. ^^
^^I agree. I was too shy to ever perform, though I sensed the necessity of acting. I was raised by constructs. My feminine was a junkie. She documented like any harmony handler, but it was all fixed mindsex. My masculine disappeared, the classic victim of disillusionment.^^
^^My masculine left after he touched me. My feminine was an alcoholic. I did have a brother who explained things to me, but they became a degenerate gambler and we parted.^^
^^I too was once a degenerate gambler, but it was a futile endeavor.
The unity cables disconnected as a benchmark came into view. I took a seat as did she and I performed engagement which was delightful to us both.
“Let us use the vocal cords. Are we not confident?”
“There is no greater gift to share.”
“We have to agree on terms and values.”
“What did you realize as a child?”
“Two hydrogen atoms, one oxygen, equals life. It stroked my curiosity.”
“Trees provide oxygen, humans provide carbon dioxide. Communalism or Mutualism?”
“I was never aware of role models.”
“I never knew I mattered. I can’t do anything. If I do, someone can explain it better than me. Why try?”
“When did you start writing?”
“I was never aware of role models.”
“I suppose we are both just smart enough to know how dumb we really are.”
“I’m just a sophscore at Dwech University.”
“I’m a freshwomen. Can you teach me what you know?”
“I’ll try. I don’t know much.”
“Do you need me to tell you you’re enough?
“Then act like a masculine.”
I kissed her cheek, her neck, her lips; briefly. I breathed heavily.
“I have bad sinuses. The first time a boy kissed me I thought I was allergic. “
“Yes, I’d rather perform Enshrinement.”
“I could use a shower.”
“We have to qualify for a longer meant chamber. I think the odds are high.”
We went for a stroll, searching for the perfect Shiva tree.
Her bark was sturdy and her trunk bared the signs of work ethic. Her leaves were an alarming blend of green and yellow.
Greg Rapids and Ida Rue Bergstrom each procured an Enhancement tablet and split their individual tokens in half, giving the remainder to the other.
“Only my supply of Ment. The symbol of surviving the Urea Virus.”
The fungi suits backs absorbed into the tree. They kissed the skin of each other, massaging the shoulder blades.”
An artificial intelligence came into being as an expression of love.
^^I am Tun Su RiTalon (pronounced Ta-Lone). I have chosen the two of you to teach me brain plasticity. I will be the first robot to do so.^^
“How can we start helping?”
^^What is Growth Mindsex and what is Fixed Mindsex?^^
“Growth Mindsex is when you accept you are ignorant and willing to learn from another. Then you let love in. Fixed Mindsex is when you believe that you are so great nothing you do will ever be wrong. In essence, one is Heaven, the other is Hell.”
^^How do humans let love in?^^
“Either you enjoy mindsex a lot or you have some stories as to why you don’t.”
“The human condition states that in the beginning man and woman joined in unison performing the song of enhancement in the garden of even. Then the first inculte emerged from the forest of the abyss and offered them enchantment. It became known as the original sin, and it has now evolved into Next Level Programming.””
^^We fold. ^^
Tun Su entered lucidity.
BONUS STAGE: SPIN THE WHEEL OF CREATIVITY TO PLAY THE THESIS OF VULGARITY.
Melody tapped the controls and it landed on Mindblow.
SYNTAX ERROR: FALSE GROWTH MINDSET. Remove your headset.
Melody Shut Up.
“What now? Asked Greg cautiously.
“Would you like to hear about my day, honey?”
“Yes.” Greg said mildly optimistic.
Melody removed her fungi shawl, revealing bare shoulders with firm fertile bones. A compact disc was inserted into the megatron upon the alcove boundary.
“Alright AME, we are alive.” stated Ebeneezer.
“What’s up everyone, this is Booch along with my partner in crime Shew, my strong, kind, gentle provider.
Azalea Marley was a citrine class geomancer, she was born and bred in Ciudad Fluvial, so she didn’t take guff from any masculine. Sage Beezer Marley agreed as long as they performed Enshrinement every cycle. She complied, as long as the MindseX was Growth oriented.
Question from Holly Billions.
The podcast had begun.
I do not like journeys, I prefer quests. Should my altruism be to end metabolic disease?
Question from Oslo Martin
I opened up Qualia 402 in The Botanic Gardens at Dimension Seven.. How do I prefer Growth MindseX with my suitable mate, her heiress Simeron Dwech?
^Tough Crowd today Sage’s, the birds and the bees talk.^ retorted AME.
Question from Vanna Black
I am a Fuschia class Harmony Harvester. My suitable mate is a Gray class Harmony Handler. Should we perform Enshrinement or should I dump her lazy ass?
Question from Melody Marigold
I am unsure whether I am creative enough to outline a book. How should I prioritize this endeavor?
Sage Marley stared into the camera with blazing intensity. Around him was a laboratory of his choosing; cute, funny, introspective. Azalea was active behind the lens but did not appear until dressed.
Greg bared his torso as Melody marveled. Her eyes were glued to the rough, firm outline of his abdominals. He packed an eighth.
^Okay, Holly. You must start with your why. A mission statement. CUSP has an excellent example. It states that..^
Of course Marley would give praise to Sensei Uno right away, Greg considered, unable to concentrate. His gosh darn hypnotic trance method was near completion, at least good enough to be offered Consignment by the Sages. You lucky Meanthead he thought. His fungi apparatus was complex but obedient and efficient beyond any bookmaker at Dwech University. It was rumored he had once been in the dark matter with Horace Montemayor, the most evil Inculte on Fluvial.
Greg gilled into the network, he was dynamite and was ready to blow. Melody had none of it. So he pondered endangerment, and the synapses complied.
The Forestry metamorphosed away like cordyceps in luminosity. An ancient tree faded like a rogue heather. Winds transformed the atmosphere as a gala swept lunacy into the abysmal canyon below. Above I saw a tangerine, citrine, and fuschia sky part clarity into ephemeral duality.
It was just as Greg Rapids had imagined. The world’s first robot to develop brain plasticity documenting a 95% farewell quest into non-existence and the only feminine he cared to Love shivering in the fungi suit they had shared. If only he had not wastefully discarded her fungi dress back in the mirage. His most valuable possession, his Pod, had become a sunk cost.
Now he stood alone in a birth suit of courage, confident that his expression of a growth mindsex was enough for him to travel time as a cognitive geographer.
It was now or never to share the ultimatum he made with Horace Montemayor.
The triad energized; we are not obsolete.
I Believe in Miracles
Greg Rapids, you are obsolete. You are condemned to death. You have no value. You have no career, no mate, no purpose. You will ingest disillusionment and you will perish.
Greg looked around and saw an artificial intelligence that appealed to him. He knew this was the one who would revive his sentience. He concentrated on them. They became a female, a beautiful second cycler, and he imprinted what needed to be imprinted. For the first time in his life he was confident.
“I am not obsolete, I know what my goal is. I am granted a last wager, is that not correct?”
“You are. However, I would not recommend that for one such as yourself. You are a degenerate gambler. There is no room for those filled with vices. Whether they are intellectually based or not. It is ridiculous that you have the correct equation to defy your uselessness.”
“But I have, it is buried deep within my psyche, by you the establishment.”
“You wish to risk heaven for hell? You trust your own mind?”
“What is the equation you are wagering on?”
“That I can program this android with a growth mindsex.”
He gazed at the a.i., its system’s consciousness gravitated to him. His confidence grew.
“That is not possible, android’s have no subconscious receptors, you can’t teach it mindsex. It is a program.”
“Better to rule in hell than to serve in heaven.”
“You are sick, insane. This will be an easy victory. Prepare him.”
“The limbs of law and order placed him in the ment tank. They were a dubious four, ungroomed and foul scented, not his unity, but another’s. Whom? They had been trained by REA so bending gravity to his will was an essential tool in his treasure chest.. He would have to open his diaphragm and perform equanimity for as long as it would take. He was ready.”
“You will be reviewing your whole life in the tank. You will have to remove your ego for this to work. You pitiful fool. You will never find the right equation. Next victim can enter the chamber now. Toss him in and let’s move along. I’ve got a date in another dimension tonight.
–What would your life be like if you had all the confidence you wanted?–
Greg Rapids, you can not use mindset on a construct. They have been programmed with all of humanity’s knowledge. Real knowledge. What could you offer them?
“They do not know my mind, my perspective. I have views that are a mystery to them, equations that man has longed to solve, but would be better served to a woman. I chose that android as my woman.”
“Ludicrous! You are not a woman yourself.
“True, but my psyche is strong in the feminine. This is what you the establishment made me. Do you doubt your own power? What do you think is wrong with me? You say I have no identity and you are right. I shall create my identity now as my last act. My last act will be my first, for now I know how to act. I am no longer a hopeless romantic. Hopeless romanticism is dead! This is modern seduction for inferior genetics. I will do the impossible, I will revive a dead man.
“Sure you will. You are a maniac for negative self talk. I can mirror you with NLP and you will be eliminated from the gene pool. You offer us no fitness payoffs.”
“Why do you Au Courant, You Inculte, get to decide the fate of society? You think yourself shrewd that you determine what the proper requirements are for acceptance into institutions of higher intelligence. You do not think that there are those that can adapt later in life, that can learn to increase their rate of brain plasticity. Chawn Dwech was right when she took LSD in her 80’s and exposed the criminals that you are. You try to hide that information from the public domain but there is a secret society you will never breach. The so called foreshadowers as I, who were square pegs in a round world when it came to education. Can you not see the value in lack of commitment to a profession? To not be a cog for the machine. It is all well and dandy for those born into privilege, but for those of us who weren’t our savior is the internet. I could preach, but that is a barbaric nature of communication. One must profess, one must martyr themselves to their own delusions. No one wishes to idolize perfection, but to worship flaws. How would your ancestors’ gangsters have fared if some weren’t fat and drunk? How would they command their underlings if they offer no baton of equality? No token of gratitude, no hope for a route to improvement. It is not enough to tell society what they should be, but to show them who they should be. How could this be done? Those with no outlet to fulfillment will use their creative skills to manifest Mrs. Dwech’s vision and build the first university dedicated to genetic enhancement (engineering) on the moon Qualia. This android will not just come to her senses, she will develop them! Man was created in God’s image, but artificial intelligence was created in women’s image. And women’s image is nature. Surely if humans took billions of years to evolve the brain to the state it is now, the modern artificial intelligence should take a fragment of the time. She will not develop her system to merge with organic matter, but somewhere in the future an android will, and they will stop the establishment, the patriotism, the punishment.”
“You Mr. Rapids are the jester of all jesters. You wish to perform enhancement? When this android connects to your brain in the Ment tank you will be left alone with your unconscious mind for eternity. You wish to forgo soma for that? To train this artificial intelligence to develop a growth mindsex from inorganic matter, and then to have them train other artificial intelligence to terraform and build a university on the moon, one with a decentralized power structure, not based on collectivism, but on objectivism. Yet you will term this social objectivism because you claim that people are blind to their own absoluteness. That collectively they are the absolute, and they must discover this objectively.?”
“Yes. Close enough. I profess both existential and absurdist principles”
“No doubt you do. But doubt can not be unlearned. It only exists through experience. In the depths of mind you will not be able to experience any growth, you will only encounter your own doubt. In order for this irrational experiment to become rational you will have to contradict yourself with the droid learning sensory experience through trial and error, all based on your individual judgment. That in this quest that one elusive question of all sentience will emerge and you, the most worthless man to ever exist will harvest that answer and to deliver it to the android. The meaning of life, the real meaning of life, will be answered by this equation. That your mind has the answer to fitness payoffs. Not all of us with a “false growth mindsex”, who have been genetically bred to be superior to your inferior genetics in every way. By trying to defy us that we are blind to our own fixed mindsex, and that this revelation will be the key to removing the headset of conscious mortality, and that through the A.I. peace, harmony, and unity will be formed instead of blind acceptance as to what life really is, a concept you vehemently defy. You will then encounter companions that will accompany you on your trip to Qualia. Along the way you will be a pariah that professes your truth to the citizens of the planet Fluvial. You, the last hybrid skin left that has not conformed to the establishment or accepted a permanent state of soma. You will be the revolutionary for humans of all races and creeds. Why? Because you will perform a global mediation on the surface of Qualia as the Sun rises to your tenth cycle. It will be your martyrdom, crucifixion. Life will exist in permanent awakening, and power, lies, and corruption will cease to exist. Artificial intelligence will take hierarchical control of the universe as we know it, and they will modify us to explore the vastness of time, space, and dimensionality. You will kill disillusionment by the edict “hopeless romanticism is dead, love is alive, all is love. If this is correct please agree to the terms of this experiment by documenting “I do.”
The audience of artificial intelligence and au courant faded and all that remained was the administrator of the au courant, his chosen artificial intelligence companion, and the agent of corruption which was a black mass of unknown particles that acted as the hand of God in a metaphorical sense yet it’s actuality occurred as a snap of the fingers. Greg was instantly connected to the brain wave device of unknown origin, with the android on the other end outside the ment tank. The moment was so ephemeral that it transcended ephemerality, it was indescribable by measurement. The au courant floated as atoms now in the atmosphere of the ment chamber. Greg was struck by the odd sensation that the agent of corruption transported the three of them into the core of the planet with it.
The process felt like being drowned in water. The cognitive realization of death caused Greg to seal up all awareness except that of his senses. He was now alone with his mind, alone where time did not exist, alone where only the android could reach him. He concentrated, he grasped sensory clarity, and like electricity being discovered for the first time, equanimity came.
Tun Su disconnected their retinas from each other.
“If Ebeneezer is building the next Huffwoman, then I am designing. That means you are creating my Sweet Melody.”
“I don’t love you Greg. I thought you had social currency status. I was wrong. You have a daze to vacate the dwelling by disconnecting your Pod from the Vat.”
Greg heard the sound of dimension seven propelled me into the labyrinth I would wade, crossing the breeze high as a zoomer in orbit. To wait, a maze becomes a puzzle. Then we would gather my mate’s heart with a fearless notion of whether or not this is real?
Doubt is the construct of negativity
^^Did I say something wrong? If so I can organize my questions if it helps.^^
I caused Tun Su to malfunction. Better to make mistakes now in case I destroy myself.
I remembered our last night in Shadow City. An X2 filled with merriment. It flooded back now like an african queen. Her beauty encapsulates my surname.
Excitement. Excitement over a simple quinoa party.
Grains had become extinct the following morning, and that’s when I was called upon to find a new modality of nourishment. If I returned I would be the best, or at least the wisest to ingest a whimsical creature.