Concentricity … 12

Ch 12 ~ In Space, Do they hear traces of the self screaming?

Some people – the very few who knew him – thought him to be an alien.   Not that he looked odd.  But he definitely behaved in a manner that some people, the very few who might have known of him at one time (not many people knew of him for any length of time) thought of as from another planet.

The slight man in the booth who had arrived at the Glenwood Cafe by way of a Black Hole from which he had been born in some galaxy somewhere…perhaps one that was indeed far, far away…could have been anybody on the planet, really.  The planet Earth, that is.  He didn’t walk like an Alien from Outerspace.  He didn’t look like an Alien from Outerspace (athough the sneer in his eyes sort of resembled that same grim-eyed slightly annoyingly tortured focus as delivered by the actor who played Luke’s father during the pre-dark side days).

Although who would really know?  “…Would anybody really care?  About Time?  No, I can’t imagine why…” 

But what everyone really could accept without hesitation is that like everyone else in the Glenwood Cafe, and on the planet Earth, for that matter, the slight man had had a thought.  And despite the slightness of the man, his thought was a doozy.  So much so, it had propelled him down this path…to find a way to give voice to his thought.  The urge to do so had only magnified now, as he listened to the ramblings of Forge and his two female friends.  They both looked rather perturbed, the two young ladies.  How could that not be the case, he wondered knowing the answer full well.  Computers embedded within our very bodies.  Tied inexorably into biological structure.  Literally plugging right in.  Directly.  Could he emphasize the remarkableness of that enough times, he wondered; would it ever be too many times.  Frankly, no, because it was just that wildly astounding.  He dwelled a bit on the implications of such a thing.  The Singularity was not his religion, as it was for so very many, but it was not something he would desecrate either, despite the perpetual sneer in his eyes.  He sneered perpetually at everything.  It was probably the sunlight that bothered him so, coming from a birth as crushing as one from a Black Hole.  Desecrating religions of any variety wasn’t for him a particularly worthwhile activity.  In fact, the opposite.  Others’s belief systems actually served his doozy-of-a-thought perfectly…because exploiting others’s belief systems gave him the power to control.  And now Forge sat and casually talked quite in the open about unending access.  Would anybody ever be unplugged again, he mused randomly to himself all the while knowing the answer full well.  And all the while envisioning the population as they indulged themselves with images and sounds and screens and links of their favorite serious news, entertainments, amusement, research, collborations, corporate agenda, political campaigns, water-cooler socializing, brain candy reality tv and badly written multiple versions of the same scripted dramas each and every minute.  Leaving their DNA behind on every electronic field that they visited.  Physically leaving traces of their genetic code on every digital space that they entered and interacted with.  Literally leaving the keys to themselves wide open for someone…he paused a moment, bristling with the thought…leaving the keys to themselves wide, he repeated in his mind, for someone clever enough like me to pick up and unlock their entire life’s history with a single tumble of the locks.  Without them ever knowing it.   Belief systems exposed.  Habits and behaviors as often dictated by belief systems exposed.  Vunerabilities laid bare for his use.  A completely new layer of transparency in a connected world that innocently thinks its seen it all.  They haven’t yet seen who’s behind the curtain mining the meta data of all the meta data.  And if slight man (who continues insisting upon remaining nameless) has his way, they never will see him holding all the keys.  This was what he was thinking, the slight man in the booth who had arrived at the Glenwood Cafe by way of a Black Hole from which he had been born in some galaxy somewhere…perhaps one that was indeed far, far away.   He couldn’t tell you what his childhood had been like…there wasn’t much that escaped the Black Hole, but somehow by some freak or fate of science, he had.  He was convinced it was to dominate with his thoughts and his thoughts alone.  Stifling the Tower of Babel that was freed upon the world from this great global conversation.  A tower of Babel with endless permetations of convesrations occurring but all of them, really, in the same language.  Voices crying out noisily like hungry little chicks looking to for nourishment and attention…what started as a word turned into a cacophony of noise exploding out indefinitely.  Think of the energy, the world of wildly chirping tweeters waiting for the attention that only he could bring to them…once he knew what really movitated them.  He could harness their energy for his purposes.  The ultimate in the Age of Hyber Me-ism.  The world as his oyster, if he even knew what that phrase really meant.  Having been born from the Black Hole, one could argue that he probably never saw or heard of an oyster before.  In truth, he hadn’t seen or heard much of anything but crushing nothingness.  And he had emerged into a world on Earth of crushing everythingness. 

This was an easy thing, the doing of this, the pursuing of this path, he thought to himself without a moment’s pause.  There was a greater danger in *not* pursuing this path.  The crushing everythingness — one more powerful than that made up of zeros and ones — extended beyond this little planet.  The crushing everythingness extended beyond into All.  And that was not something that the slight man from the Black Hole could allow anyone to latch onto…not anyone, expect for himself.

Somewhere not far away…not too terribly far away at all…a flock of ducks took the air and sliced through the sky in perfect unison.  Whoosh.

NaNoWriMos total word count this chapter:  1,000; total word count todate (not including this notation) this chapter: 16,700.

 

 

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