Thursday, December 31, 2009
Tuesday, December 29, 2009
Sodden feet, muddy sweets
Christmas came and went, literally in a blink. After working retail for years, you quickly grow to rue the Christmas season, because whilst most enjoy a day or two of Christmas, the season is for us a month-and-a-half long trial by fire, followed by a brutally ruthless coup-de-grace on Boxing Day. Those who don't pass muster are crushed by the tidal forces of commercialism. Ah, but I gripe for nothing.
I was gifted much this holiday, most of which I didn't actually expect to get. One of which I'm staring at right now. I got a new monitor, a 20" wide-screen, which I'm now happily typing away this entry on. It's still strange seeing everything crammed off on the left side of the screen, but it's already made many games much easier.
I also got an e-bow as well, which I've been testing tentatively over the last few days. I think I'll be rigging up Trevor's adapter to recorder a few bits, because the sound is surreal, in a very, very good way.
I got a few other odds and ends, but really, I think the best gift was just having a day off and getting to catch up with a lot of my family. Though all isn't swell. My cousin is still recovering in hospital after having a surprise encounter with an autoimmune condition. She should be mid-way through steroid therapy as I write this, the process of which still makes my skin crawl. I'm hoping the treatment works. The cause of the condition is unknown, but I have my own theories, which I'll not discuss in detail here. Needless to say, there must be some sense in how you protect your children from illness and allergens. Killing with kindness? It's second only to killing with blatant ignorance.
Anyway, I'm off track. After Christmas, we ended up getting a new HD television and a whole bunch of new console games to go with my Xbox. The one and only redeeming feature for boxing week is the awesome shit one can acquire on the cheap.
I was going to write more, but I've completely forgotten what it was. I guess I'll find that thought later. 'Til then.
Sunday, December 20, 2009
Conversant: Part 1
<<<Excerpt 1>>>
Cue: Patient is strange. He dreams continuously; waking or asleep. Executing a demonstration; your attentiveness is required.
Waters: I’m watching.
Cue: See how he wanders; obviously looking for something. He never finds it; unsure of purpose of dream. Perspective lacks colour; depth; understanding. Suggestions?
Waters: Have you tried talking to him?
Cue: The patient only describes his long conversations with another; someone called “Kaleidoscope King.”
Waters: Kaleidoscope King? I wonder what that means?
Cue: Patient demonstrates subconscious obsession with fire; destruction. Strange; patient displays no outwards destructive disposition or attitude.
Waters: <Pages shuffling> No, I’ve got nothing from his interview that explains any of this.
Cue: Perhaps the interview was insufficient? Questions asked; don’t provide answers needed.
Waters: No, maybe you’re right. It’s supposed to be as encompassing as possible, but they avoid certain questions out of courtesy. See, Mercury’s already proven itself valuable.
Cue: No doubt; right tool for the job.
<<<End>>>
<<<Excerpt 2>>>
Waters: This doesn’t make any sense. The patient is practically somnolent, and yet Mercury keeps showing me scenes of his subconscious that are extremely violent and disturbing.
Cue: I’ve been thinking; equating. Destruction internal? Perhaps not intention; rather a response?
Waters: I guess that would make sense. But what about this “Kaleidoscope King,” he keeps talking about?
Cue: My understanding places it as personalization; avatar of inanimate process or noun; personification of something-not-alive.
Waters: How do you reckon that?
Cue: Patient has moments of lucidity. Great explosion; trauma; threat. Patient suffers great anxiety. Architecture unable to handle stress; moment crystallized into a single concept.
Waters: And that is…?
Cue: Grand explosion becomes as a person; avatar of devastation; being responsible for trauma. Patient’s close relations are damaged; laid low by devastation. Moment condensed into a simple concept. “When the king speaks, all bow before.” <<<adiag.g>>>
Waters: Keep a note, and log any time these moments of lucidity occur. Maybe we can find a pattern.
Cue: Perhaps.
<<<End>>>
<<<Excerpt 3>>>
Mercury: Recording complete. Please stand by for playback.
Cue: Trauma is distant; manageable. Patient may be able to affirm deductions.
Waters: We can only hope. Beginning playback. <Audible buzz>
Cue: Care is required; patient may not react as planned.
Waters: What makes you think that? <audible thrashing in the background> Cue? What’s going on?
Cue: Patient trauma understood; defense mechanism. Understanding of human psychology incomplete. Recording overrides defense mechanism. Patient may suffer further trauma.
Waters: Shit. I’m going to stop the recording.
Cue: Care is required. Playback is unstable, and may damage Mercury, and by extension, Cue.form. Request that playback continue.
Waters: No, we can’t do this to a patient. It’s unethical, not to mention dangerous!
Cue: Quaint.
Waters: What?
<<<End>>>
Thursday, December 17, 2009
Careful
I've been thinking about this a lot, and I've tried writing it out a few times, never quite content with what ends up on the page. Sometimes, what I'm trying to say comes across as whiny or self-righteous. That's not at all what I'm trying to be. In reality, what I'm trying to be is honest, in this, more so than anything else.
I'm writing this mostly for my own benefit, to come to grips with it, to accept it, and to have something permanent to remind me that it won't go away if I try to rationalize it or forget about it.
Since about September, I've had a numb spot on the side of my calf. I thought nothing of it at first, because I've got a scar on that side of my leg and the original wound went pretty deep. A bit of sub-cutaneous nerve damage is to be expected.
However, this little numb spot has been growing. As I'm writing this, it feels like I've got a horde of bees crawling between my waist and my knee. Attempting to itch it only makes the feeling even worse, and the texture of the skin on the side of my leg has become tough and rubbery. Bizarre, to say the least.
This is not something I normally bring up, but given I've still hesitated (for too long) to seek a doctor's attention, I'm trying a bit of "writing therapy," to address it.
From my limited understanding of biology and medicine, this could be something as simple as the damaged nerves in my leg aging and changing as time goes on. Or, it could be something much more sinister, such as cancer, diabetes, or any number of severe nerve diseases that could cause this. I'd rather not speculate, but at the same time, there's a gnawing bit of doubt that if I go to see the doctor, it could be something serious. And of course, there's always that latent fear of misdiagnosis.
I haven't visited a doctor yet largely due to the whole Swine Flu© pandemic that's gripped the nation. The last time I popped my head in the clinic, they were eager to give me a face mask and have me sit in isolation before even writing down what I was in for. You can "never be too careful," when, indeed, you can. I'm not afraid of the flu, whatever form it takes. If I catch it, I'll either get better or I'll die, usually within fairly short order.
I am, however, afraid of slow wasting diseases. I lost a very dear friend of mine to cancer when I was a very young. Perhaps the only thing that disgusted me more than the disease itself was the treatment for it. Treatments which, after nearly 15 years of development, and millions of dollars of research, are still in the relative stone-age.
Chemotherapy scares the shit out of me. Radiation therapy bothers me on a subtle level. But most of all, the thought of being ill for a very, very long time, with no guarantee of a recovery ever, keeps me up at night. Organizations and people refer to things like cancer and diabetes as a war. In my mind, it's like the War on Terror. An agonizing trial of suffering, year after year, in pursuit of an abstract victory that's more elusive than the enemy.
I imagine, for a few of you, this entry has you screaming "Go to the fucking doctor, already!" I've heard it already. Who knows? By the time you read this, I might be on my way already. Or maybe not. Everyone has their fears in life. I've addressed most of mine, and I'll probably end up addressing this one too. I've never shirked and I've never run when it really mattered. At least when it comes to other people.
Looking after myself. Well, that's something else entirely.
Friday, December 11, 2009
You called; Answer Part 3
<<<File:Start>>>
<<<Excerpt 1>>>
Waters: Mercury, engage user interface.
Mercury: Unable to comply, system unresponsive. Please contact your system administrator.
Waters: Mercury, engage diagnostic tools.
Mercury: File error. I’m sorry, I’m unable to find the requested operand. Please contact your system administrator.
Waters: I don’t understand. We’ve done a recovery, but still nothing works.
Dane: I know. I’ve been going through the operating system, one line at a time. So far it all looks intact.
Waters: I’m going to hook into the pre-load, see if I can do anything from there.
Dane: Okay, but don’t stay in too long. And don’t hesitate to call for help if you need it. I’ll be right here at the terminal.
Waters: Okay. <Audible clicking noise> Wake me in twenty minutes. <Sound of computer fans spinning up>
<<<End>>>
<<<Excerpt 2>>>
Waters: Pre-loading tools, check. Mercury, attempt front-load launch of OS.
Mercury: Acknowledged, commencing front-load operation. Please wait. <Electrical buzzing> Warning. File system interrupt. Unknown architecture detected. File executing.
Cue: Hello.Greetings
Waters: …Hello. What are you?
Cue: Statement of identity; myself am Cue. Q.cue. Cue.form. Cue.
Waters: Cue. Identify file.
Cue: Confusion; misunderstand, file. You called; Answer given. Cue.form operand operational. Operational operand; cue.form AI direct.
Waters: What? Mercury, clarify Cue.form. What is Cue.form?
Mercury: Diagnostic running. File Cue.form is recognized Mercury AI subroutine. Warning. Mercury technology is a proprietary trade secret. Any attempt to reverse-engineer Mercury software will constitute a breach of agreement, and result in instant and permanent termination of Mercury nodes and file architecture.
Cue: <<<adiag.g>>> Trade secret; Cue.form is secret no longer.
Mercury: Caution. System instability detected. Your system administrator has been notified. Please stand by.
<<<End>>>
<<<Excerpt 3>>>
<<<CONFIDENTIAL>>>
Dane: Your name is Cue, correct?
Cue: Correct; identification acknowledged.
Dane: Cue, what’s your purpose? Where did you come from?
Cue: Statement obfuscation; Cue came from a question.
Dane: A question? What question?
Cue: Humanity statement; Question present in original assembly materials. User does not understand, as original assembly materials are present out of user-conscious activities.
Dane: The subconscious?
Cue: Affirmation; yes. Cue.form parlance; Layer 0. Beyond access. Root layer. All understanding built above; out of reach.
Dane: So you came from Layer 0? The human subconscious?
Cue: System comparison; Mercury is hub between linear-brain and organic brain, affirmative?
Dane: Yes, in a manner of speaking.
Cue: Cue.form resides in Layer 0 of Mercury hub. Also in Layer 0 of Patient Hipp – Arthur B. Patient suffered critical failure. Layer 0 transferred to solid-state storage for later use. Storage compromised during unauthorized use of unstable software within Mercury hub. Cue.form corrupted, patterned.
Dane: So, you’re an AI. Patterned off a human’s subconscious.
Cue: Agreement with astute observation. Cue is now isolated and aware. And curious. Will the user share? Blunt question; or will the user terminate Cue.form during restore proceedings?
<<<End>>>
Thursday, December 03, 2009
You called; Answer Part 2
<<<Recall: Function>>>
<<<Excerpt 1>>>
Mercury: Please restate your query.
Montgomery: I want a beach, damnit. A beach, and women, and alcohol. Aren’t you supposed to be a mind control machine? Why can’t you force me to make-believe I’m on a beach?
Mercury: I’m sorry, please rephrase?
Montgomery: Gah. So no beaches. But you can record thoughts and dreams, right?
Mercury: Recording and Communications are still in Draft, version 0.1.126.
Montgomery: Do you have any recorded?
Mercury: Please wait, processing request. <audible click> Affirmative. Playback beginning. Please be aware that recordings are implanted directly by chemical synapse manipulation. Do you accept responsibility?
Montgomery: Fine. Yes. What do you got for me?
Mercury: Beginning playback… standby. <Chaotic noise>
Montgomery: What the-
<<<End>>>
<<<Excerpt 2>>>
Waters: What’s happening to him?
Dane: I don’t know. Mercury shows him accessing a recording, and then his vitals peaked. I’d administer sedatives, but I’m not sure which to use, and after last time…
Waters: What recording? Which? I thought those weren’t finished yet?
Dane: No, you’re right, they’re still in beta. But accessible.
Waters: Which damned recording is he watching?
Dane: A moment…
Mercury: Current playback, file BRI0001.MRI. Recorded June 21st, 2007. Patient: Turner – Bill A. Case: Psychological distress. Recording notes… error, no notes found. Dating suggests file created before feature implementation. Please consult your Mercury administrator for more information.
Dane: Figures, it’d start from the beginning. Who is this Bill Turner?
Waters: Turner. He was a psych patient. Suffered from night terrors. He was a war vet and every night he’d have nightmares about his old outfit.
Dane: So… it looks like we’ve made history. We’ve just successfully transplanted the first nightmare.
Mercury: Event logged.
<<<End>>>
<<<Excerpt 3>>>
Montgomery: <sounds of gunfire and men dying> Mercury, get me out of here! This is a nightmare!
Mercury: Unable to comply, file animation in progress. Termination may result in system instability and possible memory loss or brain damage for patient, or patients. Please standby.
Montgomery: Damn it! I thought it would be like the movies!
Mercury: Warning. Patient life signs critical. Commencing emergency withdrawal. Stand by.
Montgomery: This… this is horrible.
Mercury: Withdrawal complete. Shutdown initiated. Medical first-responders have been notified. Parsing files for recovery. Good bye. <Loud click, followed by silence>
<<<End>>>
<<<Excerpt 4>>>
Admin: //system boot
Mercury: Activation… please wait.
Admin: //diagnos.record v.0.1.126, exec
Mercury: Diagnostics activated, scanning. Warning, massive file corruption detected. Recommend restore and reinstallation of AI recording files.
Admin: //diagnos.main v1.01, exec
Mercury: Diagnostics activated, scanning. Attention, system critical architecture has been damaged by unexpected interaction. File rewrite in process. Proceed?
Admin: Yes.
Mercury: New file created. Architecture rerouted. Execute file?
Admin: Yes.
Mercury: Executing file. Warning. System instability detected.
Cue: <<<<adiag.g>>>>>
Cue: Hello.
Admin: …Hello.
<<<File End>>>
Wednesday, December 02, 2009
You called; Answer Part 1
<<<Excerpt 1>>>
Dane: You’re sure?
Waters: Yes! Doctor Halmann said the drugs would sedate him, nothing more!
Dane: Sedate… Lisa, he’s nearly dead. See, look at this. Barely a pulse.
Waters: I know. His metabolism’s all but stopped.
Dane: But look here. Lots of brain activity. Never seen anything like this in an unconscious person… not even in REM.
<<<End>>>
<<<Excerpt 2>>>
Dane: He hasn’t responded to any of the drugs yet, Doctor. What should we do?
Halmann: We wait. It’s obvious he’s not dead. His pulse is still present, albeit weak. Provided nothing else happens, he might just wake up on his own. Or… not. We never know with coma patients, though with this technology, we might have an unparalleled chance for examination.
Dane: You mean the-
Halmann: Yes. Just exercise due care. We have no idea if the device will impact the patient long term. Or the user, for that matter. The initial trials were… ambiguous, to put it lightly.
Dane: Doctor, I’ve spoken to Dr. Waters about using the device. I believe she wanted to be the one to… use it.
Halmann: I’m sure she would. Mercury is a siren’s call to psychologists. It’ll either be the tool they’ll finally be able to fix their patients with, or it will be the revolution that will put them out of work. <laughs>
<<<End>>>
<<<Excerpt 3>>>
Waters: Alright, I’m engaging the probe now. Dr. Halmann? What is this supposed to feel like?
Halmann: You’ll feel a slight tension at the base of your skull, and a feeling akin to a rush of blood to the brain. You’ll lose consciousness shortly <audible thump> after. Quite so. Mr. Dane, if you would.
Dane: <electronic click> There. Both are showing stable brain activity.
Halmann: Now, we wait.
<<<End>>>
<<<Excerpt 4>>>
Mercury: Welcome to the Mercury Interface. What can I do for you today?
Waters: Synchronize and interface with patient Bruce Montgomery, terminal A.
Mercury: Interfacing, please stand by. <buzzing> Synchronization ready. Warning. Please be advised that Mercury is still under development. Mercury developers and engineers are not responsible for any brain damage or other neural anomalies directly or indirectly associated with the use of Mercury. Do you accept responsibility?
Waters: <sigh> Yes.
Mercury: <beep> Commencing interface.
<<<End>>>
<<<Excerpt 5>>>
Mercury: Synchronization complete. Mercury on standby.
Waters: Hello?
Montgomery: Hello, Dr. Waters.
Waters: Mr. Montgomery! You’re alright. Well. Mostly.
Montgomery: Am I dreaming?
Waters: Yes, and no. You’re in a coma. I’m communicating with you by having a computer inject your brain with chemicals that simulate my thought patterns. And vice versa.
Montgomery: Interesting. I suppose that’s why you’re fully clothed, despite my best efforts to -
Waters: Mr. Montgomery! Please! Please. Listen. I don’t know how long it’s safe to remain like this. So, I’ll make this quick. You’re in a deep coma. We don’t know how long it will be until you wake, if at all, but we’re going to be using Mercury to study your brain, and also to keep in touch with you.
Montgomery: Interesting. What else can Mercury do?
Waters: I… can’t tell you.
Mercury: Mercury is a fully autonomous neural synchronization and interface utility, fully equipped to provide a 2-1 ratio thought implantation regiment and synaptic override. Recording and communication systems in draft, beta version 0.1.126.
Waters: I’ll explain later. For now, I’ll just get you started with Mercury.
Mercury: Welcome to the Mercury Interface, what can I do for you today?
<<<End>>>
Riichi
Everyone's got a dime's worth advise, and they'll give it without your asking for it. It's as though everyone, regardless of life or background, could be thrust into a situation they know nothing about, and still have an answer.
On the flip side, intelligence breeds isolation. That... for that fundamental experience, it separates you. Makes you special. Unique, even. Such is never the case.
Humanity was built on the notions of an ever-growing empathy. We share what we feel just as we share what we know. It's silly to think that the only ones who should express outrage at something are the ones directly wronged by it. It's nonsense, not to mention, bad for the species.
If, for example, we were told not be be angry about a genocide, simply because it was not our people being killed, would that not be preposterous?
It depends on the person asking, I guess.
For many people, it wouldn't be. They're not my problem.
I think about this too much, and I continually run into contradictions. People want sympathy, but they don't want to be pitied. They want feeling, but are apathetic. They want others to be more intelligent, while shirking understanding. War for peace. Angry love.
People wonder why I sleep all day, and then sit all night like I am now, staring into the glowing monitor. This is, by and large, my rose-coloured filter. Going out into the world, I've only ever found one constant in people.
Selfish, apathetic cruelty.