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(Thread IKs: sharknado slashfic)
 
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Petey
Nov 26, 2005

For who knows what is good for a person in life, during the few and meaningless days they pass through like a shadow? Who can tell them what will happen under the sun after they are gone?

Inspector Hound posted:

What in the hell

may i remind you that https://www.newsweek.com/darpa-book-wacky-terrifying-schemes-580052

quote:

The bizarre and crazy plans cooked up by DARPA's mad scientists over the years could fill many books, and Weinberger was spoiled for choice. A physicist named Nicholas Christofilos wanted to build a planetary force field to protect America from nuclear weapons. When that didn't prove feasible, he came up with "Project Seesaw," which involved drilling tunnels under the continent through which particle beams could be accelerated and aimed at incoming missiles. He solved the problem of the colossal expense of drilling such tunnels by proposing to nuke the holes.

"Think of it like a suppository," Christofilos told skeptical fellow scientists. "As it goes through the rock, it creates a perfect tube."

An effective particle beam would also drain the entire U.S. electrical grid, so he proposed nuking another vast hole next to the Great Lakes and draining them in just 15 minutes to power vast generators. A scientist who was there for that presentation said it went over well. The scientists in the room "all nodded their head and said, 'My God, Nick, that may work.'" Project Seesaw was never funded at the requested $300 million, but it was, Weinberger writes, the longest-lasting project the agency ever planned, still on the table the mid-'70s.

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Inspector Hound
Jul 14, 2003

Michigan would be less confusing if it were one landmass, you have to give them that

Hodgepodge
Jan 29, 2006
Probation
Can't post for 213 days!

thank god america is ready for Ramiel, the 5th angel

also just cleared up something that broke my heart for like twenty years and the big secret was dumb as hell. whatever i'm doing on this trash planet, it's not for my sake. unless it's a punishment of some kind.

i'm always going to love the person involved but jfc

Hodgepodge
Jan 29, 2006
Probation
Can't post for 213 days!

Good Soldier Svejk posted:

In Zeta Reticuli born and raised
buzzin' 'round earth was hanging out with the greys
Chillin' out probin' lights strobin' all cool
And all projecting good feelings at some kids in a school
When a couple of greys tried to make a big show
flying too wild out in New Mexico
they got in one little crash and my mom got scared
She said 'You're movin' with Sandia to a secret mountain lair'

Wheeee
Mar 11, 2001

When a tree grows, it is soft and pliable. But when it's dry and hard, it dies.

Hardness and strength are death's companions. Flexibility and softness are the embodiment of life.

That which has become hard shall not triumph.

you stand before a fork in the trail, before you are two paths:

down one, we are temporary hosts for something far greater than our little monkey brains and what we experience and how we deal with it are a part of a cycle of learning and development, in which those oblivious dumbshits, selfish privileged rich kids, and toxic narcissists skating through life which frustrate you so in your present incarnation are to be pitied as they are uselessly spinning their wheels, wasting this opportunity and stunting their own development, and it is in freeing your own self through the mechanism of forgiveness that you will ultimately find satisfaction

down the other, we live in a strictly materialist reality, our consciousness nothing more than an accident of evolution, an emergent property of the interactions between the subsystems of your meat brain, and there is no meaning or purpose to existence beyond that which you subjectively choose to project, thus you are freed from obligation to anything or anyone but your own emotional and physical needs and may do as you will to yourself and others in the pursuit of satisfying your frustrations

which path do you walk

mycomancy
Oct 16, 2016

Wheeee posted:

you stand before a fork in the trail, before you are two paths:

down one, we are temporary hosts for something far greater than our little monkey brains and what we experience and how we deal with it are a part of a cycle of learning and development, in which those oblivious dumbshits, selfish privileged rich kids, and toxic narcissists skating through life which frustrate you so in your present incarnation are to be pitied as they are uselessly spinning their wheels, wasting this opportunity and stunting their own development, and it is in freeing your own self through the mechanism of forgiveness that you will ultimately find satisfaction

down the other, we live in a strictly materialist reality, our consciousness nothing more than an accident of evolution, an emergent property of the interactions between the subsystems of your meat brain, and there is no meaning or purpose to existence beyond that which you subjectively choose to project, thus you are freed from obligation to anything or anyone but your own emotional and physical needs and may do as you will to yourself and others in the pursuit of satisfying your frustrations

which path do you walk

Well if what you're saying is that there's one path made of literal wishful thinking and one path that represents reality, I think I'll take the reality thanks. Afterlifes are mechanisms of control from the ruling class, gently caress them.

Bilirubin
Feb 16, 2014

The sanctioned action is to CHUG


Combo of the reality of two but the moral imperative of one

Hodgepodge
Jan 29, 2006
Probation
Can't post for 213 days!

Wheeee posted:

you stand before a fork in the trail, before you are two paths:

down one, we are temporary hosts for something far greater than our little monkey brains and what we experience and how we deal with it are a part of a cycle of learning and development, in which those oblivious dumbshits, selfish privileged rich kids, and toxic narcissists skating through life which frustrate you so in your present incarnation are to be pitied as they are uselessly spinning their wheels, wasting this opportunity and stunting their own development, and it is in freeing your own self through the mechanism of forgiveness that you will ultimately find satisfaction

down the other, we live in a strictly materialist reality, our consciousness nothing more than an accident of evolution, an emergent property of the interactions between the subsystems of your meat brain, and there is no meaning or purpose to existence beyond that which you subjectively choose to project, thus you are freed from obligation to anything or anyone but your own emotional and physical needs and may do as you will to yourself and others in the pursuit of satisfying your frustrations

which path do you walk

it really is sad, though. when we were together, she wanted me to help her face her fears. i don't know how the gently caress she let herself become afraid of me, normally people who are weirded out by me try to figure out if i'm gay or autistic or something (i don't know why those things come up they just do). i was a weird kid, but a really sweet one who couldn't scare a kitten. on the other hand, her mother was involved, and i didn't dislike her when i met her, but it was immediately clear at the time that she was clueless by the standard of a dumb kid who knew he was clueless about a lot of basic things.

anyhow, i harvest orgone from both paths. the black iron prison must fall, no matter how much weird sex is required of me.

Azathoth
Apr 3, 2001

Stand at the fork in the road, open your third eye and walk off either path into the wilderness of reality, never to trod again a path walked by anyone. Discover the true nature of reality that underpins all creation, return as a 6-dimensional being and teach pastpresentfuture humans your wisdom.

Hodgepodge
Jan 29, 2006
Probation
Can't post for 213 days!

mycomancy posted:

Well if what you're saying is that there's one path made of literal wishful thinking and one path that represents reality, I think I'll take the reality thanks. Afterlifes are mechanisms of control from the ruling class, gently caress them.

yeah, materialism is just a sad fantasy once you know about the World Eating Mind :(

quote:

The void laughs again, unfriendly: "There is life eternal within the eater of souls. Nobody is ever forgotten or allowed to rest in peace. They populate the simulation spaces of its mind, exploring all the possible alternative endings to their life. There is a fate worse than death, you know.''

Log082
Nov 8, 2008


Wheeee posted:

which path do you walk

i stand at the crossroad, indecisive, until I die, either having learned nothing or fading from the world with my death.

D-Pad
Jun 28, 2006

Wheeee posted:

you stand before a fork in the trail, before you are two paths:

down one, we are temporary hosts for something far greater than our little monkey brains and what we experience and how we deal with it are a part of a cycle of learning and development, in which those oblivious dumbshits, selfish privileged rich kids, and toxic narcissists skating through life which frustrate you so in your present incarnation are to be pitied as they are uselessly spinning their wheels, wasting this opportunity and stunting their own development, and it is in freeing your own self through the mechanism of forgiveness that you will ultimately find satisfaction

down the other, we live in a strictly materialist reality, our consciousness nothing more than an accident of evolution, an emergent property of the interactions between the subsystems of your meat brain, and there is no meaning or purpose to existence beyond that which you subjectively choose to project, thus you are freed from obligation to anything or anyone but your own emotional and physical needs and may do as you will to yourself and others in the pursuit of satisfying your frustrations

which path do you walk

Walk the second path but freely choose to live as if the first is true....is what I would like to say, but that poo poo is really hard and I'd be lying if I made out like that's what I've been doing.

Centrist Committee
Aug 6, 2019

Wheeee posted:

you stand before a fork in the trail, before you are two paths:

down one, we are temporary hosts for something far greater than our little monkey brains and what we experience and how we deal with it are a part of a cycle of learning and development, in which those oblivious dumbshits, selfish privileged rich kids, and toxic narcissists skating through life which frustrate you so in your present incarnation are to be pitied as they are uselessly spinning their wheels, wasting this opportunity and stunting their own development, and it is in freeing your own self through the mechanism of forgiveness that you will ultimately find satisfaction

down the other, we live in a strictly materialist reality, our consciousness nothing more than an accident of evolution, an emergent property of the interactions between the subsystems of your meat brain, and there is no meaning or purpose to existence beyond that which you subjectively choose to project, thus you are freed from obligation to anything or anyone but your own emotional and physical needs and may do as you will to yourself and others in the pursuit of satisfying your frustrations

which path do you walk

I walk a quantum superposition of both paths, op

skewetoo
Mar 30, 2003

Sees fork in the road. Floats up

Good Soldier Svejk
Jul 5, 2010

Centrist Committee posted:

I walk a quantum superposition of both paths, op

And feel the daily agony as my brain oscillates between pleasure and disgust at my way of being

Hodgepodge
Jan 29, 2006
Probation
Can't post for 213 days!

Azathoth posted:

Stand at the fork in the road, open your third eye and walk off either path into the wilderness of reality, never to trod again a path walked by anyone. Discover the true nature of reality that underpins all creation, return as a 6-dimensional being and teach pastpresentfuture humans your wisdom.

I'm pretty sure this is what it sounds like to people when I try to explain that they need to be compassionate and understanding.

Hodgepodge
Jan 29, 2006
Probation
Can't post for 213 days!

D-Pad posted:

Walk the second path but freely choose to live as if the first is true....is what I would like to say, but that poo poo is really hard and I'd be lying if I made out like that's what I've been doing.

standing there stoned, trying to remember why you were there in the first place and wondering which route has the closest rest stop

D-Pad
Jun 28, 2006

Didn't someone in this thread post a link to a sci-fi short story on a website that looked like it was from the very early 2000s with a light blue background? I meant to read it and I can't find it. Anybody help out?

The Saucer Hovers
May 16, 2005

convenience bias forces me onto a desire path paved with booooooooones

Hodgepodge
Jan 29, 2006
Probation
Can't post for 213 days!

D-Pad posted:

Didn't someone in this thread post a link to a sci-fi short story on a website that looked like it was from the very early 2000s with a light blue background? I meant to read it and I can't find it. Anybody help out?

possibly the one i just quoted:

http://www.infinityplus.co.uk/stories/colderwar.htm

Pooky
Aug 29, 2004

I post fox news so u don't have to 💋


[Asteroids] are generally concentrated in a broad belt, outside the
Martian orbit. In this position, they could become strategically
important as military stations from which exploration and sur-
veillance could be conducted. It is believed that these objects are
either renmants of a larger planet or planets, destroyed by colli-
sion, or unaggregated remnants of the raw material from which
the solar system developed. In either case, these objects could
have significant quantities of exotic raw materials, making them
undesirable from an economic point of view.


lol

Wheeee
Mar 11, 2001

When a tree grows, it is soft and pliable. But when it's dry and hard, it dies.

Hardness and strength are death's companions. Flexibility and softness are the embodiment of life.

That which has become hard shall not triumph.

Murray Templeton was forty-five years old, in the prime of life, and with all parts of his body in perfect working order except for certain key portions of his coronary arteries, but that was enough.

The pain had come suddenly, had mounted to an unbearable peak, and had then ebbed steadily. He could feel his breath slowing and a kind of gathering peace washing over him.

There is no pleasure like the absence of pain – immediately after pain. Murray felt an almost giddy lightness as though he were lifting in the air and hovering.

He opened his eyes and noted with distant amusement that the others in the room were still agitated. He had been in the laboratory when the pain had struck, quite without warning, and when he had staggered, he had heard surprised outcries from the others before everything vanished into overwhelming agony.

Now, with the pain gone, the others were still hovering, still anxious, still gathered about his fallen body –– Which, he suddenly realised, he was looking down on.

He was down there, sprawled, face contorted. He was up here, at peace and watching.

He thought: Miracle of miracles! The life-after-life nuts were right.

And although that was a humiliating way for an atheistic physicist to die, he felt only the mildest surprise, and no alteration of the peace in which he was immersed.

He thought: There should be some angel – or something – coming for me.

The Earthly scene was fading. Darkness was invading his consciousness and off in a distance, as a last glimmer of sight, there was a figure of light, vaguely human in form, and radiating warmth.

Murray thought: What a joke on me. I’m going to Heaven.

Even as he thought that, the light faded, but the warmth remained. There was no lessening of the peace even though in all the Universe only he remained – and the Voice.

The Voice said, “I have done this so often and yet I still have the capacity to be pleased at success.”

It was in Murray’s mind to say something, but he was not conscious of possessing a mouth, tongue, or vocal chords. Nevertheless, tried to make a sound. He tried, mouthlessly, to hum words or breathe them or just push them out by a contraction of – something.

And they came out. He heard his own voice, quite recognisable, and his own words, infinitely clear.

Murray said, “Is this Heaven?”

The Voice said, “This is no place as you understand place.”

Murray was embarrassed, but the next question had to be asked. “Pardon me if I sound like a jackass. Are you God?”

Without changing intonation or in any way marring the perfection of the sound, the Voice managed to sound amused. “It is strange that I am always asked that in, of course, an infinite number of ways. There is no answer I can give that you would comprehend. I am – which is all that I can say significantly and you may cover that with any word or concept you please.”

Murray said, “And what am I? A soul? Or am I only personified existence too?” He tried not to sound sarcastic, but it seemed to him that he had failed. He thought then, fleetingly, of adding a ‘Your Grace’ or ‘Holy One’ or something to counteract the sarcasm, and could not bring himself to do so even though for the first time in his existence he speculated on the possibility of being punished for his insolence – or sin? – with Hell, and what that might be like.

The Voice did not sound offended. “You are easy to explain – even to you. You may call yourself a soul if that pleases you, but what you are is a nexus of electromagnetic forces, so arranged that all the interconnections and interrelationships are exactly imitative of those of your brain in your Universe-existence – down to the smallest detail. Therefore you have your capacity for thought, your memories, your personality. It still seems to you that you are you.”

Murray found himself incredulous. “You mean the essence of my brain was permanent?”

“Not at all. There is nothing about you that is permanent except what I choose to make so. I formed the nexus. I constructed it while you had physical existence and adjusted it to the moment when the existence failed.”

The Voice seemed distinctly pleased with itself, and went on after a moment’s pause. “An intricate but entirely precise construction. I could, of course, do it for every human being on your world but I am pleased that I do not. There is pleasure in the selection.”

“You choose very few then?”

“Very few.”

“And what happens to the rest?”

“Oblivion! – Oh, of course, you imagine a Hell.”

Murray would have flushed if he had the capacity to do so. He said, “I do not. It is spoken of. Still, I would scarcely have thought I was virtuous enough to have attracted your attention as one of the Elect.”

“Virtuous? – Ah, I see what you mean. It is troublesome to have to force my thinking small enough to permeate yours. No, I have chosen you for your capacity for thought, as I choose others, in quadrillions, from all the intelligent species of the Universe.”

Murray found himself suddenly curious, the habit of a lifetime. He said, “Do you choose them all yourself or are there others like you?”

For a fleeting moment, Murray thought there was an impatient reaction to that, but when the Voice came, it was unmoved. “Whether or not there are others is irrelevant to you. This Universe is mine, and mine alone. It is my invention, my construction, intended for my purpose alone.”

“And yet with quadrillions of nexi you have formed, you spend time with me? Am I that important?”

The Voice said, “You are not important at all. I am also with others in a way which, to your perception, would seem simultaneous.”

“And yet you are one?”

Again amusement. The Voice said, “You seek to trap me into an inconsistency. If you were an amoeba who could consider individuality only in connection with single cells and if you were to ask a sperm whale, made up of thirty quadrillion cells, whether it was one or many, how could the sperm whale answer in a way that would be comprehensible to the amoeba?”

Murray said dryly, “I’ll think about it. It may become comprehensible.”

“Exactly. That is your function. You will think.”

“To what end? You already know everything, I suppose.”

The Voice said, “Even if I knew everything, I could not know that I know everything.”

Murray said, “That sounds like a bit of Eastern philosophy – something that sounds profound precisely because it has no meaning.”

The Voice said, “You have promise. You answer my paradox with a paradox – except that mine is not a paradox. Consider. I have existed eternally, but what does that mean? It means I cannot remember having come into existence. If I could, I would not have existed eternally. If I cannot remember having come into existence, then there is at least one thing – the nature of my coming into existence – that I do not know.

“Then, too, although what I know is infinite, it is also true that what there is to know is infinite, and how can I be sure that both infinities are equal? The infinity of potential knowledge may be infinitely greater than the infinity of my actual knowledge. Here is a simple example: If I knew every one of the even integers, I would know an infinite number of items, and yet I would still not know a single odd integer.”

Murray said, “But the odd integers can be derived. If you divide every even integer in the entire infinite series by two, you will get another infinite series which will contain within it the infinite series of odd integers.”

The Voice said, “You have the idea. I am pleased. It will be your task to find other such ways, far more difficult ones, from the known to the not-yet-known. You have your memories. You will remember all the data you have ever collected or learned, or that you have or will deduce from that data. If necessary, you will be allowed to learn what additional data you will consider relevant to the problems you set yourself.”

“Could you not do all that for yourself?”

The Voice said, “I can, but it is more interesting this way. I constructed the Universe in order to have more facts to deal with. I inserted the uncertainty principle, entropy, and other randomisation factors to make the whole not instantly obvious. It has worked well for it has amused me throughout its entire existence.

“I then allowed complexities that produced first life and then intelligence, and use it as a source for a research team, not because I need the aid, but because it would introduce a new random factor. I found I could not predict the next interesting piece of knowledge gained, where it would come from, by what means derived.”

Murray said, “Does that ever happen?”

“Certainly. A century doesn’t pass in which some interesting item doesn’t appear somewhere.”

“Something that you could have thought of yourself, but had not done so yet?”

“Yes.”

Murray said, “Do you actually think there’s a chance of my obliging you in this manner?”

“In the next century? Virtually none. In the long run, though, your success is certain, since you will be engaged eternally.”

Murray said, “I will be thinking through eternity? Forever?”

“Yes.”

“To what end?”

“I have told you. To find new knowledge.”

“But beyond that. For what purpose am I to find new knowledge?”

“It was what you did in your Universe-bound life. What was its purpose then?”

Murray said, “To gain new knowledge that only I could gain. To receive the praise of my fellows. To feel the satisfaction of accomplishment knowing that I had only a short time allotted me for the purpose. – Now I would gain only what you could gain yourself if you wished to take a small bit of trouble. You cannot praise me; you can only be amused. And there is no credit or satisfaction in accomplishment when I have all eternity to do it in.”

The Voice said, “And you do not find thought and discovery worthwhile in itself? You do not find it requiring no further purpose?”

“For a finite time, yes. Not for all eternity.”

“I see your point. Nevertheless, you have no choice.”

“You say I am to think. You cannot make me do so.”

The Voice said, “I do not wish to constrain you directly. I will not need to. Since you can do nothing but think, you will think. You do not know how not to think.”

“Then I will give myself a goal. I will invent a purpose.”

The Voice said tolerantly, “That you can certainly do.”

“I have already found a purpose.”

“May I know what it is?”

“You know already. I know we are not speaking in the ordinary fashion. You adjust my nexus is such a way that I believe I hear you and I believe I speak, but you transfer thoughts to me and from me directly. And when my nexus changes with my thoughts you are at once aware of them and do not need my voluntary transmission.”

The Voice said, “You are surprisingly correct. I am pleased. – But it also pleases me to have you tell me your thoughts voluntarily.”

“Then I will tell you. The purpose of my thinking will be to discover a way to disrupt this nexus of me that you have created. I do not want to think for no purpose but to amuse you. I do not want to think forever to amuse you. I do not want to exist forever to amuse you. All my thinking will be directed toward ending the nexus. That would amuse me.”

The Voice said, “I have no objection to that. Even concentrated thought on ending your own existence may, in spite of you, come up with something new and interesting. And, of course, if you succeed in this suicide attempt you will have accomplished nothing, for I would instantly reconstruct you and in such a way as to make your method of suicide impossible. And if you found another and still more subtle fashion of disrupting yourself, I would reconstruct you with that possibility eliminated, and so on. It could be an interesting game, but you will nevertheless exist eternally. It is my will.”

Murray felt a quaver but the words came out with a perfect calm. “Am I in Hell then, after all? You have implied there is none, but if this were Hell you would lie to us as part of the game of Hell.”

The Voice said, “In that case, of what use is it to assure you that you are not in Hell? Nevertheless, I assure you. There is here neither Heaven nor Hell. There is only myself.”

Murray said, “Consider, then, that my thoughts may be useless to you. If I come up with nothing useful, will it not be worth your while to – disassemble me and take no further trouble with me?”

“As a reward? You want Nirvana as the prize of failure and you intend to assure me failure? There is no bargain there. You will not fail. With all eternity before you, you cannot avoid having at least one interesting thought, however you try against it.”

“Then I will create another purpose for myself. I will not try to destroy myself. I will set as my goal the humiliation of you. I will think of something you have not only never thought of but never could think of. I will think of the last answer, beyond which there is no knowledge further.”

The Voice said, “You do not understand the nature of the infinite. There may be things I have not yet troubled to know. There cannot be anything I cannot know.”

Murray said thoughtfully, “You cannot know your beginning. You have said so. Therefore you cannot know your end. Very well, then. That will be my purpose and that will be the last answer. I will not destroy myself. I will destroy you – if you do not destroy me first.”

The Voice said, “Ah! You come to that in rather less than average time. I would have thought it would have taken you longer. There is not one of those I have with me in this existence of perfect and eternal thought that does not have the ambition of destroying me. It cannot be done.”

Murray said, “I have all eternity to think of a way of destroying you.”

The Voice said, equably, “Then try to think of it.” And it was gone.

But Murray had his purpose now and was content.

For what could any Entity, conscious of eternal existence, want – but an end?

For what else had the Voice been searching for countless billions of years? And for what other reason had intelligence been created and certain specimens salvaged and put to work, but to aid in that great search? And Murray intended that it would be he, and he alone, who would succeed.

Carefully, and with the thrill of purpose, Murray began to think.

He had plenty of time.

Marzzle
Dec 1, 2004

Bursting with flavor

Pooky posted:


[Asteroids] are generally concentrated in a broad belt, outside the
Martian orbit. In this position, they could become strategically
important as military stations from which exploration and sur-
veillance could be conducted. It is believed that these objects are
either renmants of a larger planet or planets, destroyed by colli-
sion, or unaggregated remnants of the raw material from which
the solar system developed. In either case, these objects could
have significant quantities of exotic raw materials, making them
undesirable from an economic point of view.


lol

:perfect:

Marzzle
Dec 1, 2004

Bursting with flavor

fighting a space war with the USSR to stop them from parking a nickel asteroid in earth orbit and tanking the market :911:

my bony fealty
Oct 1, 2008

these paths are not mutually exclusive and understanding, experiencing one is just the key to the other, and many more. the garden of forking paths is just that - paths, plural, in a single garden - and by traveling down one you may find enlightenment about what the others could lead to. to walk a single path is to walk all paths and you just don't know it yet, may never know it, and whom amongst does us does know all of them? the contradictions there are the point. a man is presented with two roads traveled in varying degrees but the important part is that they have been traveled all, so which will you choose. it doesn't matter!

Sleekly
Aug 21, 2008



path one. its not like theres much choice it feels like

i often wish for path two tho, but not cut out for it

my bony fealty
Oct 1, 2008

so you think your experience is novel? your life lived is unique? it is, and so are all others, including the full spectrum of your own that you never got the chance to feel and "remember." take the left hand path. you went right and you're on it anyway. everything balances toward the center if you give it long enough because long enough isn't nearly enough time to give it balance. the sun will evaporate into a black hole eventually and you'll be there, just as you were when it happened the last time (and the time before that, and before, and before) which was not any different from for you what is the first time. death is the little madness that drove it all forward and forward again until there is no more forward to be driven to. what lies at that ultimate end? I don't know!

Fried Watermelon
Dec 29, 2008


Who's the coolest alien

Hodgepodge
Jan 29, 2006
Probation
Can't post for 213 days!

Wheeee posted:

Murray Templeton was forty-five years old, in the prime of life, and with all parts of his body in perfect working order except for certain key portions of his coronary arteries, but that was enough.

The pain had come suddenly, had mounted to an unbearable peak, and had then ebbed steadily. He could feel his breath slowing and a kind of gathering peace washing over him.

There is no pleasure like the absence of pain – immediately after pain. Murray felt an almost giddy lightness as though he were lifting in the air and hovering.

He opened his eyes and noted with distant amusement that the others in the room were still agitated. He had been in the laboratory when the pain had struck, quite without warning, and when he had staggered, he had heard surprised outcries from the others before everything vanished into overwhelming agony.

Now, with the pain gone, the others were still hovering, still anxious, still gathered about his fallen body –– Which, he suddenly realised, he was looking down on.

He was down there, sprawled, face contorted. He was up here, at peace and watching.

He thought: Miracle of miracles! The life-after-life nuts were right.

And although that was a humiliating way for an atheistic physicist to die, he felt only the mildest surprise, and no alteration of the peace in which he was immersed.

He thought: There should be some angel – or something – coming for me.

The Earthly scene was fading. Darkness was invading his consciousness and off in a distance, as a last glimmer of sight, there was a figure of light, vaguely human in form, and radiating warmth.

Murray thought: What a joke on me. I’m going to Heaven.

Even as he thought that, the light faded, but the warmth remained. There was no lessening of the peace even though in all the Universe only he remained – and the Voice.

The Voice said, “I have done this so often and yet I still have the capacity to be pleased at success.”

It was in Murray’s mind to say something, but he was not conscious of possessing a mouth, tongue, or vocal chords. Nevertheless, tried to make a sound. He tried, mouthlessly, to hum words or breathe them or just push them out by a contraction of – something.

And they came out. He heard his own voice, quite recognisable, and his own words, infinitely clear.

Murray said, “Is this Heaven?”

The Voice said, “This is no place as you understand place.”

Murray was embarrassed, but the next question had to be asked. “Pardon me if I sound like a jackass. Are you God?”

Without changing intonation or in any way marring the perfection of the sound, the Voice managed to sound amused. “It is strange that I am always asked that in, of course, an infinite number of ways. There is no answer I can give that you would comprehend. I am – which is all that I can say significantly and you may cover that with any word or concept you please.”

Murray said, “And what am I? A soul? Or am I only personified existence too?” He tried not to sound sarcastic, but it seemed to him that he had failed. He thought then, fleetingly, of adding a ‘Your Grace’ or ‘Holy One’ or something to counteract the sarcasm, and could not bring himself to do so even though for the first time in his existence he speculated on the possibility of being punished for his insolence – or sin? – with Hell, and what that might be like.

The Voice did not sound offended. “You are easy to explain – even to you. You may call yourself a soul if that pleases you, but what you are is a nexus of electromagnetic forces, so arranged that all the interconnections and interrelationships are exactly imitative of those of your brain in your Universe-existence – down to the smallest detail. Therefore you have your capacity for thought, your memories, your personality. It still seems to you that you are you.”

Murray found himself incredulous. “You mean the essence of my brain was permanent?”

“Not at all. There is nothing about you that is permanent except what I choose to make so. I formed the nexus. I constructed it while you had physical existence and adjusted it to the moment when the existence failed.”

The Voice seemed distinctly pleased with itself, and went on after a moment’s pause. “An intricate but entirely precise construction. I could, of course, do it for every human being on your world but I am pleased that I do not. There is pleasure in the selection.”

“You choose very few then?”

“Very few.”

“And what happens to the rest?”

“Oblivion! – Oh, of course, you imagine a Hell.”

Murray would have flushed if he had the capacity to do so. He said, “I do not. It is spoken of. Still, I would scarcely have thought I was virtuous enough to have attracted your attention as one of the Elect.”

“Virtuous? – Ah, I see what you mean. It is troublesome to have to force my thinking small enough to permeate yours. No, I have chosen you for your capacity for thought, as I choose others, in quadrillions, from all the intelligent species of the Universe.”

Murray found himself suddenly curious, the habit of a lifetime. He said, “Do you choose them all yourself or are there others like you?”

For a fleeting moment, Murray thought there was an impatient reaction to that, but when the Voice came, it was unmoved. “Whether or not there are others is irrelevant to you. This Universe is mine, and mine alone. It is my invention, my construction, intended for my purpose alone.”

“And yet with quadrillions of nexi you have formed, you spend time with me? Am I that important?”

The Voice said, “You are not important at all. I am also with others in a way which, to your perception, would seem simultaneous.”

“And yet you are one?”

Again amusement. The Voice said, “You seek to trap me into an inconsistency. If you were an amoeba who could consider individuality only in connection with single cells and if you were to ask a sperm whale, made up of thirty quadrillion cells, whether it was one or many, how could the sperm whale answer in a way that would be comprehensible to the amoeba?”

Murray said dryly, “I’ll think about it. It may become comprehensible.”

“Exactly. That is your function. You will think.”

“To what end? You already know everything, I suppose.”

The Voice said, “Even if I knew everything, I could not know that I know everything.”

Murray said, “That sounds like a bit of Eastern philosophy – something that sounds profound precisely because it has no meaning.”

The Voice said, “You have promise. You answer my paradox with a paradox – except that mine is not a paradox. Consider. I have existed eternally, but what does that mean? It means I cannot remember having come into existence. If I could, I would not have existed eternally. If I cannot remember having come into existence, then there is at least one thing – the nature of my coming into existence – that I do not know.

“Then, too, although what I know is infinite, it is also true that what there is to know is infinite, and how can I be sure that both infinities are equal? The infinity of potential knowledge may be infinitely greater than the infinity of my actual knowledge. Here is a simple example: If I knew every one of the even integers, I would know an infinite number of items, and yet I would still not know a single odd integer.”

Murray said, “But the odd integers can be derived. If you divide every even integer in the entire infinite series by two, you will get another infinite series which will contain within it the infinite series of odd integers.”

The Voice said, “You have the idea. I am pleased. It will be your task to find other such ways, far more difficult ones, from the known to the not-yet-known. You have your memories. You will remember all the data you have ever collected or learned, or that you have or will deduce from that data. If necessary, you will be allowed to learn what additional data you will consider relevant to the problems you set yourself.”

“Could you not do all that for yourself?”

The Voice said, “I can, but it is more interesting this way. I constructed the Universe in order to have more facts to deal with. I inserted the uncertainty principle, entropy, and other randomisation factors to make the whole not instantly obvious. It has worked well for it has amused me throughout its entire existence.

“I then allowed complexities that produced first life and then intelligence, and use it as a source for a research team, not because I need the aid, but because it would introduce a new random factor. I found I could not predict the next interesting piece of knowledge gained, where it would come from, by what means derived.”

Murray said, “Does that ever happen?”

“Certainly. A century doesn’t pass in which some interesting item doesn’t appear somewhere.”

“Something that you could have thought of yourself, but had not done so yet?”

“Yes.”

Murray said, “Do you actually think there’s a chance of my obliging you in this manner?”

“In the next century? Virtually none. In the long run, though, your success is certain, since you will be engaged eternally.”

Murray said, “I will be thinking through eternity? Forever?”

“Yes.”

“To what end?”

“I have told you. To find new knowledge.”

“But beyond that. For what purpose am I to find new knowledge?”

“It was what you did in your Universe-bound life. What was its purpose then?”

Murray said, “To gain new knowledge that only I could gain. To receive the praise of my fellows. To feel the satisfaction of accomplishment knowing that I had only a short time allotted me for the purpose. – Now I would gain only what you could gain yourself if you wished to take a small bit of trouble. You cannot praise me; you can only be amused. And there is no credit or satisfaction in accomplishment when I have all eternity to do it in.”

The Voice said, “And you do not find thought and discovery worthwhile in itself? You do not find it requiring no further purpose?”

“For a finite time, yes. Not for all eternity.”

“I see your point. Nevertheless, you have no choice.”

“You say I am to think. You cannot make me do so.”

The Voice said, “I do not wish to constrain you directly. I will not need to. Since you can do nothing but think, you will think. You do not know how not to think.”

“Then I will give myself a goal. I will invent a purpose.”

The Voice said tolerantly, “That you can certainly do.”

“I have already found a purpose.”

“May I know what it is?”

“You know already. I know we are not speaking in the ordinary fashion. You adjust my nexus is such a way that I believe I hear you and I believe I speak, but you transfer thoughts to me and from me directly. And when my nexus changes with my thoughts you are at once aware of them and do not need my voluntary transmission.”

The Voice said, “You are surprisingly correct. I am pleased. – But it also pleases me to have you tell me your thoughts voluntarily.”

“Then I will tell you. The purpose of my thinking will be to discover a way to disrupt this nexus of me that you have created. I do not want to think for no purpose but to amuse you. I do not want to think forever to amuse you. I do not want to exist forever to amuse you. All my thinking will be directed toward ending the nexus. That would amuse me.”

The Voice said, “I have no objection to that. Even concentrated thought on ending your own existence may, in spite of you, come up with something new and interesting. And, of course, if you succeed in this suicide attempt you will have accomplished nothing, for I would instantly reconstruct you and in such a way as to make your method of suicide impossible. And if you found another and still more subtle fashion of disrupting yourself, I would reconstruct you with that possibility eliminated, and so on. It could be an interesting game, but you will nevertheless exist eternally. It is my will.”

Murray felt a quaver but the words came out with a perfect calm. “Am I in Hell then, after all? You have implied there is none, but if this were Hell you would lie to us as part of the game of Hell.”

The Voice said, “In that case, of what use is it to assure you that you are not in Hell? Nevertheless, I assure you. There is here neither Heaven nor Hell. There is only myself.”

Murray said, “Consider, then, that my thoughts may be useless to you. If I come up with nothing useful, will it not be worth your while to – disassemble me and take no further trouble with me?”

“As a reward? You want Nirvana as the prize of failure and you intend to assure me failure? There is no bargain there. You will not fail. With all eternity before you, you cannot avoid having at least one interesting thought, however you try against it.”

“Then I will create another purpose for myself. I will not try to destroy myself. I will set as my goal the humiliation of you. I will think of something you have not only never thought of but never could think of. I will think of the last answer, beyond which there is no knowledge further.”

The Voice said, “You do not understand the nature of the infinite. There may be things I have not yet troubled to know. There cannot be anything I cannot know.”

Murray said thoughtfully, “You cannot know your beginning. You have said so. Therefore you cannot know your end. Very well, then. That will be my purpose and that will be the last answer. I will not destroy myself. I will destroy you – if you do not destroy me first.”

The Voice said, “Ah! You come to that in rather less than average time. I would have thought it would have taken you longer. There is not one of those I have with me in this existence of perfect and eternal thought that does not have the ambition of destroying me. It cannot be done.”

Murray said, “I have all eternity to think of a way of destroying you.”

The Voice said, equably, “Then try to think of it.” And it was gone.

But Murray had his purpose now and was content.

For what could any Entity, conscious of eternal existence, want – but an end?

For what else had the Voice been searching for countless billions of years? And for what other reason had intelligence been created and certain specimens salvaged and put to work, but to aid in that great search? And Murray intended that it would be he, and he alone, who would succeed.

Carefully, and with the thrill of purpose, Murray began to think.

He had plenty of time.

There's a certain end of history quality to this sort of sci-fi that was also in the story about the Aloof, where the author explores the result of some absolute or teleologically complete form of existence and manages to find an interesting way to end up saying "either it would be really boring, or I just am."

my bony fealty
Oct 1, 2008

Fried Watermelon posted:

Who's the coolest alien

Good Soldier Svejk posted:

In Zeta Reticuli born and raised
buzzin' 'round earth was hanging out with the greys
Chillin' out probin' lights strobin' all cool
And all projecting good feelings at some kids in a school
When a couple of greys tried to make a big show
flying too wild out in New Mexico
they got in one little crash and my mom got scared
She said 'You're movin' with Sandia to a secret mountain lair'

poisonpill
Nov 8, 2009

The only way to get huge fast is to insult a passing witch and hope she curses you with Beast-strength.


Fried Watermelon posted:

Who's the coolest alien

Jazerus
May 24, 2011


materialism doesn't necessitate selfishness or sociopathy or whatever the gently caress you're trying to put onto path #2 and gently caress you for implying that it does

Hodgepodge
Jan 29, 2006
Probation
Can't post for 213 days!

Jazerus posted:

materialism doesn't necessitate selfishness or sociopathy or whatever the gently caress you're trying to put onto path #2 and gently caress you for implying that it does

this depends

is the materialism dialectical?

The Saucer Hovers
May 16, 2005

Jazerus posted:

materialism doesn't necessitate selfishness or sociopathy or whatever the gently caress you're trying to put onto path #2 and gently caress you for implying that it does

the average death across the animal kingdom is eaten alive

Sleekly
Aug 21, 2008



Fried Watermelon posted:

Who's the coolest alien

def you :)
we all are

blatman
May 10, 2009

14 inc dont mez


Fried Watermelon posted:

Who's the coolest alien

i think we all know the answer to this

nebby
Dec 21, 2000
resident mog
Take a moment and realize I am looking at two paths while temporarily existing on a higher plane of consciousness where such paths can be see and taken, and just try to hold onto it for as long as I can.

Pooky
Aug 29, 2004

I post fox news so u don't have to 💋
The applicability of [Chemical]/[Biological] weapons in space appears to be extremely
limited. Agents might prove of value in reducing enemy fixed bases or
contaminating supplies. other wise, the extreme environment will render
both BW and CW agents useless by preventing the development of sufficient
concentrations and destroying the BW organisms. The possibility of the
discovery of viable toxic organisms indigenous to the space environment
should not be overlooked, however. The discovery of microscopic or-
ganic remains on the Orgeuil meteorite and other meteorites leads to the
conclusion that organisms did exist in space at one point and may still be
existing there . Should toxic indigenous organisms be discovered, the im-
plications for weapons development are clear.


hilariously evil

Jazerus
May 24, 2011


anyone who thinks you need god or the peanutties or Ra or the cycle of reincarnation or whatever to impose purpose on life to provide a reason to not act like a piece of poo poo is hugely suspect imo. you should just not act like a piece of poo poo of your own volition and if that's not in your capability, think long and hard about why you feel like you need supernatural restraint. purposelessness does not imply anarchy.

Jazerus has issued a correction as of 06:27 on Nov 19, 2021

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Wheeee
Mar 11, 2001

When a tree grows, it is soft and pliable. But when it's dry and hard, it dies.

Hardness and strength are death's companions. Flexibility and softness are the embodiment of life.

That which has become hard shall not triumph.

it’s interesting that that was what you took from it

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