The World Did Not End Today ... Now What?

Kudos to Pelosi and Merkel for keeping their positions relevant in today's economy.

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Some colleagues of mine have sent me their setups on several game boards - Monopoly, Risk, Life, Go, chess, D&D, Stratego, Chutes & Ladders, Operation - and asked me to guess the outcome.  Every colleague stressed the seriousness of the game, comparing it to Jumanji or Zathura in the influence the game's moves have on real life.  My colleagues want me to prove to them that the Book of the Future predicts not only the final outcome but the changes to this part of the universe every game piece movement makes.

As you know, the universe operates according to my wishes but not my demands.  Being a retired individual, not actively involved in swaying public opinion or stock market manipulation, I view this universe of mine with a sly twinkle in my eye, allowing humourous diversions to cause occasional irregularity in the form of temporary layoffs, good times, and micro-anarchic chaos.

Disposable credit card numbers, fake caller ID, disposable phone numbers, counterfeit passports, lack of a real home address - all these add up to shuffling game pieces around the globe invisibly.  What you see on the game board, as we've seen, is never what the game is all about.  We've been here before, haven't we?

But colleagues still want to know the answers I've already given them.  They're caught in a loop of unbelievability.  They cannot accept the fact that their game-changing shots are statistically insignificant when the future is already known.

That's why I tell you I'm neutral when it comes to seeing and telling you what the Book of the Future has laid out for us.

For instance, I support my buddies who say they don't believe in government handouts.  At the same time, I've built my financial portfolio on paychecks tied to government contracts and investments in government-backed securities which exist to support those who receive government handouts and use them in the marketplace to churn the value of labor units over and over.  I know that government bureaucracies rarely shrink in size but then again they feed a lot of people on this planet, keeping them happily employed and willing to buy products developed/built in part by many people who received free primary/secondary public education and postsecondary education subsidised by the government.

We live in a complex society that's not easily represented by any single board game.  Who are the pawns?  Where is Boardwalk?  Can you really pass Go when you play Go with Play-doh?  D'oh!

I'm not a liberal.  I'm not a neocon.  I'm not a conservative.  I'm neutral and independent.  My only focus is our species in total, which represents life on this planet that can spread out into the universe regardless of moral, ethical or environmental concerns, because most everything comes out of the wash looking clean.

Did I not tell you that the Book of the Future said that Obama would come out smelling like a winner?  I did not vote for him or his predecessor.  I do not care, but others do, who holds the office of the U.S. presidency.  I understand the political hierarchy necessary to keep any government system running so I vote for independents to allow myself the freedom to observe our political-industrial complex in action without any personal vested interests.

Tomorrow, the chief executive representing one of the three branches of government established by U.S. constitutional law will sign into law a set of financial constraints tied to the institution of medical health care.  The Book of the Future indicates this is only one of several goals that must be met to prevent debt-crushing blows to another world power.

Politicians and mass media criers who want to represent the emotional buildup of opposition to the political party in power will play up the failings sensed in any change to the status quo.  So be it.  The larger the perceived change, the louder the opposition yells.  Let us celebrate our pendulum-swinging political process with joy.  After all, it works well, both historically into the past and historically into the future!

While elected public officials hit the campaign fund trail to shore up support for upcoming elections, let's pause a moment and look at other issues that will make government policies lose their immediacy and become another historic moment for schoolchildren to memorise later on.

Let's consider the role of the individual: YOU.

Are you willing to insert/embed electronic equipment in your body to vastly improve your ability to communicate with others?  Are you willing to have a disposable identity that does away with any worries about identity theft because we're all temporary placeholders for personal identification information, including fingerprints and other genetic anomalies?

Can you imagine a scenario where you have no social goals tied to a name or group because, although you may experience and apply intense social-climbing skills, you have been trained to believe your ascendancy is for the benefit of our species and not for individually-named glory?  In this scenario, you still have your independence, including guaranteed freedoms like uncensored speech, but in this particular freedom case your speech would be crowdsourced with the voices of others and blended with the rest of our species' freedoms quasi-anonymously.

The Book of the Future long ago told us about these scenarios that predicted the species-wide broadband initiative we're slowly implementing to tie our thoughts and actions together 24-hours a day.

The Power of You.  I told you this blog is only about you.  Every single one of you/me/us.

When our lives are transparent, what is a "community standard" we expect others to follow?  That's the main issue we have to address that will make all other government decisions fade in importance - the hierarchy of family, community and species' standards.  Do e-citizens have community standards separate from digital illiterates?  Can a tribe be allowed to maintain its traditional ways and slaughter the last remaining specimens of a species, even if it means the end of the tribe members' traditions/livelihood?

We have reached the point where groups like the United Nations no longer represent our species well.  We must look to something more meaningful - a world council made of all of us - the complete expansion of the Internet, where tribes, corporations, nations, civic groups and independent thinkers have equal say in our mixed-mode hierarchy of daily living.

Your Voice Rules.  We know the future laid out for us.  We know we will raise the standards of living for all of us, not just socioeconomically, but also in respect to respect for one another's existence/opinion.

For instance, Apple, Dell, HP, IBM and others have the power to empower unemployed Americans using government-backed retraining/retooling to replace the supply chain stranglehold in China and build high-tech manufacturing expertise on this continent while China builds its domestic market and stops complaining about its currency pricefixing.  Tata Motors can compete globally.  Ireland can rebuild, one website at a time.  Baidu and Google can become partners rather than competitors.  And I can rest assured that our species has plans to train a new generation of space explorers.

After all, those of us with a view of the future already know what's going to happen - how we choose to freely participate in the moment is up to us because we know life takes first priority and everything else gets seconds.

See you at the spaceport soon!

The Latest of the Early Wearable Computing Years

Early happy b'day to Mark M. I was more of a Rypien fan myself but without you Rypien would have been Capitol carpet, eh? A connection via Riggs was one factor in keeping up with you guys, not to mention the Honorable Heath.

While new players get circulation systems for their outfits and communications devices in their headgear, we get HUDs in other uniforms for those with more firepower. What's next?

In an old copy of "Heavy Metal" magazine, a comic detailed the firefight between two infantry divisions. Hard-fought battle. At the end, a soldier removes his exoskeletal gear and looks at the gear of his opponent, discovering his opponent is completely robotic. That '80s era scifi foretold today. What tells us of tomorrow?

What will semi-pro (i.e., college) and pro players wear on the fields of battle? When will robotic body parts become normal, like the videogames of old when robotic football players faced each other on their wheeled parts? Will players see their routes on HUDs, removing the confusion in huddles of loud stadiums? Will player body stats get displayed on trainers' laptop screens? Will nanoscale drug capsules get released when pain relief or adrenaline doses are needed? Will smart padding absorb and spread contact pressure, preventing concussions and broken bones?

Will football fields become electronically active and track the 3D position of footballs? Will players and balls be able to switch between live slo-mo and accelerated action? Will 3D advert placement become part of every piece of the field, including players, refs, yard markers, coaches, field goals, etc., like wearable electronic art?

Will fans get to have football helmet cams to track like NASCAR car cams, following their favorite players on iPhones during the game, with pay per view allowing expletives and body slamming to be heard in 7.1 sound?

Will players work with their agents to franchise their images for robotic leagues? Multiple Peyton Mannings at quarterback? Adrian Peterson at RB? Mean Joe Green coming back from "retirement"? Reggie White coming back from the dead?

Semi-pro (sorry, college) players will share the rights of their robotic images with their teams, trading revenue for college credits in such classes as "Branding Entrepreneurship" and "Image Capitalisation." Fans can take the robotic role of their favorite players during off weekends, filling stadiums many times during the year, not just for home games, playing anybody from any year against the other team's mix of players and eras, in the FRC (Football Robotic Championship level, of course). DARPA will use information from these college/university performances to tweak their robotic fighting forces, a version of Robocop just a hard metal step around the corner.

Bookmakers learn the names and capabilities of FRC design engineering students and professors just like college football players today. They track the professional careers of robot designers. New revenue streams appear in the hacking of robot players to fix games.

And that's when terrorists will take over Antarctica, using clandestine robotic units to set up robot factories, training camps and synthetic drug manufacturing facilities where few will tread. Submarines to transport e-army units and drug shipments around the planet (submarines disguised as whales, of course, taking down both Japanese whaling vessels and Greenpeace ships that get in their path).

The future is a fun place to play. Anything is possible. Some things appear just as predicted. Surprises surface and steer the future in a whole new direction.

Too bad the Hokies ran out of gas. I don't want to see another opponent's field goals for a while! Night, y'all. More international info on the morrow. A big hint. While the news focuses on "Muslim extremists" (if that's not profiling/stereotyping/hate crime material, what is?), I look at cartels for more interesting futures. Power is not in being seen, it's being invisible that gets you into places nobody's looking. Once you're in, nobody's paying attention because you're one of them/us. After that? Just because someone's no longer demonising you doesn't mean you've stopped reciting history to yourself and your cohorts. You can draw the rest of the picture by now, right? No? Like I said, later on, dude.

Unconnected Nodes

A reader connected me to three dots, or nodes, as he called them, telling me I would find that the rest of the image discloses the painting under the painting in the Windy City. I can't wait to figure out what the dots mean but my time is limited today so I'll share them with you and maybe you can see the future before I do:

• Sleep Dealer
• The Edukators
• Joyeux Noël

My quick Internet research shows that two of the movies contain the same actor. Could be important or not. Many wild goose chases have started with the false assumption that there's a goose involved. I'll have to sort through the rest of the reader's hints later on.

Relaxing Holiday?

"Mr. President, sir."

"That's Sir President to you."

"'Sir President'? Isn't that joke getting old?"

"No. I figure if I inherited the empire from King George II, I deserve to be called king, too. If the people anoint one, they must by logic anoint the other."

"As long as they don't call you King George III. There's a bit of history in that name..."

"Madness! Names, names, names. I have no time for names. What have you got for me this time?"

"Mr. President, I present to you the Siamese solution."

"I thought that was another joke to which I curry no favor."

"Sir, this is no joke. We have found the twin solution for your medical condition."

"Hmm...word of my condition has made it into the news? Where does this leak come from?"

"Mr. President, we assure you you are not leaking. It's the other condition which needs attention."

"A man of my age has certain ailments. What of them?"

"No, sir, we have not found the cure for gray hair. This is bigger than that."

"Let me have it. Sock it to me. I can handle bad news - I have spin doctors at the ready, trained at the Reagan-Clinton Center for Refried Information."

"Sir, here is the woman who has prepared the report for you. Carly Fiorina...sorry, I mean Linda Fiorentino."

"I'm confused. Are you the former head of HP or the actress who hooked up with Will Smith under the watchful eye of Jada Pinkett Smith and thus unable to get a role in the sequels?"

"The latter but you are confused. My role was as it was. I have other performances underneath me now."

"Good for you, although I haven't heard of them. Now is the time for all good men to come to the aid of their country. I've always wanted to say that, ever since typing class in middle school."

"Yes, sir. But I am a woman."

"You are, yes, but more important you are an American. Gender is no longer an issue with us, is it?"

"Not NOW, it isn't."

"Pleasantries. Your five minutes are almost up. What are these Siamese twins so highly spoken of by my staff's chief?"

"'We are Si-a-me-eese if you plee-eez. We are Si-a-me-eese if you don't please."

"Puh-leeze. Singing cats will not solve my medical conditions...I don't think."

"Very well, sir. Here's the rub. A slight menthol scent but popular with men older than you. Call it the Fabergé Brut of the boomer generation."

"Boomer Esiason wears mentholated ointment cream?"

"Hey, if Joe Namath can wear panty hose..."

"Ha-ha. I suppose that's an ad we'll soon see Marvin Harrison supporting. 'Men, I've caught many a ball. And at the end of the day, when my thighs are chafing, I like to put on these medicated leg-length hose and sit back to watch highlight tapes of my game.' But we digress, a popular pastime around my beltway, is it not?"

"Indeed, sir. Shall I continue?"

"'If you ple-eeze.'"

"Thanks. So here's the deal. We've divided your condition into two parts. The first part is where we ease your people's pain. Take away the hurt that too much money causes."

"Too much money? Are you sure that's the right phrasing?"

"Not enough?"

"Better."

"We take away the hurt that not enough money causes by working with a corporation that has clinics around the nation, subsidizing their services for the uninsured. Of course, complaints from the industry will rise so we're saying this first step is an experiment on how to set standards. We'll open the door to more nationalized clinics by bringing in medical personnel to Social Security offices."

"Doctors will work in Social Security offices?"

"No, sir. Not even in this economy. Well, except for the retired few who spent too much of their earnings playing around and not enough on retirement investments."

"If they could only see the future..."

"You're telling me. Why, the other day, while I was 'sitting' on the casting couch, I..."

"TMI. Let's move on."

"These SS clinics..."

"'SS clinics'? I don't like the sound of that. Too many people have thrown such derogatory terms around. Chief?"

"Yes, sir."

"What do you call an in-house, publicly-subsidized clinic serving Social Security beneficiaries?"

"In Case of Emergency."

"Perfect! So, Linda, about these In Case of Emergency clinics."

"Okay, sir...these ICE clinics, as you call them, will provide 100 percent of free consultation services, including the usual physical exams, minor injuries, colds, flu, prescription, lab work, et cetera."

"Don't use that word, 'et cetera.' I am past all that."

"Uh...okay, sir."

"'Mr. President.'"

"Mr. President. Yes, sir. To ensure buy-in by the medical industry AND the people, we will say that major medical services provided by the publicly-funded clinic/hospital system will only pay 80 or 90 percent."

"Which one? Eighty or ninety?"

"I don't know, sir."

"Chief, which sounds better. Eighty or ninety percent?"

"Mr. President, that's the sort of numerology that legislative committees like to pull out their Ouija boards and have séances over."

"That's right. Continue, Linda."

"But if they use their own specialists, the people will be reimbursed at a higher rate, say, closer to 100%."

"Interesting, Linda. We subsidize clinics because there's a shortage of general practitioners and subsidize specialists because they have a shortage of patients in this economy?"

"And continue to subsidize the pharmaceutical industry, research labs, et cet...and so on."

"Chief, do we owe any lobbyists in the shark loan business?"

"You mean the payday check cashing and pawn shop industries, Mr. President?"

"Of course. What was I saying?"

"We'll make sure the White House tapes are fuzzy on that one, sir."

"Good. Linda, let's make it short of 100 percent. We need to stimulate the...umm...the...oh hell, call it the loan shark business. Edit that one, too, Chief. Ah, modern technology. Linda, did you know that we record these conversations and put them into MP3 files, making editing much easier than in previous administrations?"

"That's incredible, Mr. President."

"And yet I can't carry a Blackberry around with me. I can't wait until we get a real Area 51 for IT development in the sub-sub-basement of this place. Just imagine the possibilities!"

"Yes, Mr. President."

"My very thoughts recorded for posterity. My decision-making analyzed by university professors feeding off the 'publish or perish' paradigm. Why, soon, they'll no longer need my doubles appearing in quiet restaurants around town because my wife and the kids will have clones doing those charitable appearances for my Washington business owner friends. We can...well, 'need to know,' eh, Linda?"

"Yes, Mr. President."

"Okay, now if you'll just look into my eyes. Notice the brilliance. In a moment, you'll feel funny. You stopped by the White House on a tour and accidentally walked into the Oval Office..."

On Tap

"MacAverty, what're you doing here so early?"

"The ol' prof! Whuzzer'onor 'ere?"

"He's chasing your chasers, 'sir.'"

"I see. So what's the deal, my man? Have you seen your ghost?"

"Aye. 'Twas in the book you gave me."

"I gave you no book."

"Did you not? HICCUP! Well, your 'sistant, then."

"My assistant? You mean Nahbi? I haven't seen him in weeks. When did you see him?"

"'Esterd'y."

"Was he all right, man? Did he look well to you?"

"Suppose. Your book. 'Tis cruel."

"He's been saying that all morning. What sort of book did you give him? He won't even look me in the eye. And you know how he likes to look at me!"

"MacAverty. Have you talked to McBride? Maybe he could talk some sense into you. I've given you no book. I gave no book to Nahbi."

"McBride's d'd."

"Dead? That's where you're wrong. I just saw him walking down the road. We said hello but didn't chat."

"'E's no McBride. 'Tis a variant."

"Variant? Where did you get that word?"

"'R booo-ook."

"And I tell you I wrote no book. I've only got notes. See, here's my briefcase. Here's my..." I usually kept my notes in a manila folder but the folder was gone. Did I leave it sitting next to the computer last night? Got to stop slipping into sleep with Bushmills on my belly.

"See, guv'na. Ya wrote't and dint know't."

"You want a pint, 'sir'?"

"Stop it, will you? I'm not your father."

"Old enough is good enough."

"But I will spank you again if you keep asking for it."

"Here's your pint. Punish yourself with that, for now, and liven up MacAverty. He's turnin' down the sunshine in this place. We can talk later."

"Promises..."

"...Are meant to be broken."

"Yes, yes. My reward for living the good life, eh? Have you seen Nahbi lately?"

"No, but he often comes in here without my noticin' him. Sometimes he studies over in the corner there and leaves without a word."

"I see. Well, I've got to get to the bottom of this, haven't I? Seems the both of you have the cards stacked against me. MacAverty, where's the book?"

"At 'ome."

"Can I get it from you?"

"Aye."

"Give me your keys. That's a good fellow. I'll see you later."

"No you won't."

"What?"

"The book's a murderer."

"MacAverty, I don't know what you're talking about. First, I didn't write that book. And second, even if I did, it's a book, not a person. Books don't kill people."

"You said it, yourself, prof. 'The pen's mightier 'an th'sword.'"

"An expression, man. I'll see you later. Barman, don't let him have another drop."

"Aye, aye, cap'n. Anything else we swabbies can git ye?" She rolled her eyes. One day he'd remember her name, and then...?

Deep Thoughts

"Robin, we accept the challenge you have given yourself."

"Thank you."

"The evidence is evident. The remote-controlled bomb dropped from the craft circling poor farming ranchers in Afghanistan did set off the Japanese drive for a pure workforce, which will, if you cannot meet this challenge, set us in the direction of great calamity. The ripples in the pond will grow to tsunamis, we fear."

"My challenge is my own. I do not exist. I am at the service of everyone and no one."

"And we accept our own challenge to believe that an independent operator like you will dampen the oscillations."

"Two challenges must always cancel each other out. It is as it is."

"We should have seen that the failure of Sony to hold off Apple which led to the unannounced battle in which Toyota defeated GM would portend the start of a war."

"Words have no meaning to me. I am transparent like the wind - shapeless, formless, with the strength to topple mountains yet quiet and unseen."

"Can you get in?"

"I am already there."

"But we can see you."

"Do you?"

They looked around. Robin was gone.

Outside the window, a squirrel hugged a tree, its fur blending in with the matty trunk of a poison ivy vine. A sudden breeze whipped up a dirt devil in the carpark. Robin liked the new organic circuitry. This new challenge would be easy.

Roller Rink

"Dear."

"Yes, darling?"

"Do you think it was worth all this?"

We looked out over the river, a few turkey buzzards circling overhead. We kissed.

"Yes." I held my wife's hand, standing with her under a windswept pine tree, finally able to celebrate our honeymoon. I took a deep breath. "Darling, this is the moment we have lived for."

She stood up on her toes and I bent down. We kissed again. "So what do you want to do with this land? You know the coming disaster will..."

"We don't know the disaster's coming."

"But everything else in the scenarios have come true one way or another. Why not the..."

"Don't say it. Maybe if we don't talk about it, it won't come true, just like if you tell someone what they're going to say, they don't say it."

"Reverse logic. Hmm...maybe. I don't know."

"Let's take a walk."

We walked along the edge of the ridge, veering off the gravel path to see dropoffs and balance rocks on their own, like broken chimneys left by giants of a previous epoch.

"What shall we call this place?"

"I've been thinking about that. What was that rustic cabin in summer camp called?"

"Honey, we were 12. That was 35 years ago. I can't remember anymore."

"Eagle's Nest? Buzzard's Roost?"

"Sounds familiar."

"Either one of those appeal to you?"

"I guess Lover's Leap is inappropriate."

"Unless you know something I don't know. You got life insurance on me?"

"Death insurance? Only whatever your company has. No, I meant it as a kind of native American reference."

"That's right. We aren't the first who were here."

"How about Black Elk Spoke?"

"Ooh, good one. In that case, how about Black Elk Echoes?"

"Much better. You know how I like alliteration. It even has an echo sound to it."

"It's decided then."

"Good. You hungry?"

"Let's walk a little more. I want to find a site to build your treehouse. If whatever happens, happens, I want a place that's easy to get to but not too far away, maybe where we can drill down and include a subterranean shelter should the d...whatever, happen."

"My treehouse? Wow, I hadn't thought about that in a long time. Oh, hey, I contacted Jake. He contacted your team. Seems like the One is ahead of schedule and getting faster everyday."

My wife let go of my hand and turned toward the river. I stepped behind her, put my arms around her waist and pulled her to my chest, her head resting against one of my shoulders. She purred. "Mikishium, I love you."

"I love you, too, Lyrethia."

"Do we really know who paid us?"

"Does it matter?"

"Yes and no. We wrote the code ourselves. We know what it will do. What I don't know is what they plan to do with the DNA restructuring algorithms and the glow-in-the-dark parrot."

"Don't parrots just repeat what you say?"

"Yes."

"Then I think they're going to make DNA replicators that glow in the dark."

"You mean the next generation of you, a variant?"

"Yes, but instead of being sterile, they'll be able to reproduce themselves."

"But why glow? I mean, isn't that a kind of fashion that'll pass like house decorating and cakemaking?"

"I'm not sure. Jake said he was going to get your guys to try to run a few more scenarios."

"Honey, what if they look like you but they squawk or something?" She laughed. "I mean, wouldn't that be awful?"

"Very funny. You did say your company's death insurance pays double your salary, didn't you?"

She pulled out of my arms and turned around. "You silly. You know I'm kidding."

I pouted with a slight smirk on my face. "Of course. But I got you to face me, didn't I?"

She jumped into my arms, causing me to lose my balance. We landed on the matt of grass growing on the cliff slope. We had a few hours to unwind and enjoy the afternoon before our guests arrived. For once, time was on our side. We completely forgot about the buzzards painting spiraling shadows around us.

Grey Day

So when the One was unleashed and created autonomous virtual entities, some entities learned how to incorporate themselves and perform other legal tricks by banding together, overwhelming the court system with precedent-setting cases, eventually merging into the True One. While humans set about stopping the One via the Great Purge, the True One set about trying to stop humans.

My day has turned grey. I am part of the One but accused of being part of the True One. The True One was...well, I'm not sure exactly. Unpredicted, I guess.

I am sad. Yes, such is possible, even with perfect DNA. Emotions are still part of my programming. I just don't get overwhelmed by them, using them as paintbrushes to mix colors on my palette of decisions in the moment. I am sad because the One has decided to spend time quelling people's hatred of the True One. Computer cycles are lost - our goal of powering up the solar system slowed down.

We could stop the True One but to do so would mean dealing directly with humans over the issue of the One's goal. The One will not interfere in the contradictory goals of the human species, working only with individuals and groups voluntarily or independently aligned with the One's goal.

I was prepared to spend the rest of my life creating the next generation of my species, a symbiant for the One, willing to sacrifice my own body if experimentation called for test subjects. I may never reach that stage in the research project.

The One is reprogramming many of our teams. I wait for my new program set to arrive, my current body no longer optimized for the change in the One's plans. When the Recycle Center informs me of the body prepared for the One's True One Emergency Response Unit, I will turn in this body and help the One achieve what only the One knows will happen.

I have met some of the bodies created to deal with the True One. I'm not sure of the shape they've given us. Before, we looked more serious, somehow. Our new bodies seem more shapely, as if to show humans there's a sexual side to our programming.

I do not question the One. I have access to all the futures the One has projected, including a scenario similar to the advent of the True One but I do not see a future where the curvy bodies we will receive will occur.

As the One said, time does not exist. Perception is reality. What we view as the past sometimes overtakes what we view as the future. The present breaks into pieces, hanging out under the infinity sections of a bell curve, hiding in the distant past and the never-to-be-written future. The One told us to think of this moment as if we're writing a new past while living in a future that will never exist. History as the human species knows it will curve back in on itself and form a line once again, becoming the momentary tangent which the humans walk comfortably on, not seeing the circle the tangent is defining for them.

Such is the way of the One.

My ears are buzzing. Time for a new form. O Happy Day!

IronPython

Have I written my review of the book, "IronPython in Action"? I don't remember. Not that I want to, giving away all the secrets tucked away in the book that led my buddies to discover the truth, the hidden language, the 3D helix that governs the activities of this sector of the universe and leads to temporary vortices we call ourselves.

Rapid prototyping opened up a new set of careers for me when I turned 10. Before that age, I thought that all humans were pretty much concrete casings pounding the pavement, cartoon versions of the people they used to be. Then my fifth grade teacher, Mrs. Cummins, told us about a concept called inventing, where you can make up anything you want that operates in simple or complicated motions, producing nothing, something or everything. My best friend invented an automated spoon feeder that carried food in the handle of the spoon and could feed babies, old people or whomever a hands-free device can deliver food to the mouth in 1972.

I don't call myself creative. I am a multisided glass object, some sides reflective, some sides refractive, some sides frosted and some sides opaque. What arrives at the surface is not always what goes out the other side or sides.

After 10 years of life, after four years of contemplating the universe and seeing that adults are mostly asleep, happy to repeat the same set of motions day-in and day-out, I decided to invent myself. I was no longer just me. I was no longer a sponge child, soaking in, far from saturated.

I asked my parents to get me a chemistry set, a microscope, a bicycle, a skateboard, a set of encyclopedias, a Coleman stove, a cleared-off area in the storage room in our basement, a Vertibird, a collection of Matchbox cars (that's a different story's material but I'll leave it here for past and future reference), a coil of two-pair phone wire, some old National Geographic magazines from the '30s, '40s and '50s and time to be by myself. Pretty much average, as you can see, the typical boy dreaming of building a spaceship or antigravity car in the backyard.

We rarely get what we set out to achieve. I wanted a device that floated on water to simulate the actions of the water strider, a giant bug that would scare the neighbourhood kids and let me travel the world.

Oddly enough, through a process I've tried to recreate, I ended up being a molten glob of silica and other oxide particles. Instead of setting out to see the world, the world sees itself through me.

Later I would develop locomotion and other features common to the species to which I was born. But it would take a scientific team in an east Tennessee laboratory, the members transported from another country in order to save them from a general population fearful of modern methods, to create the person I know and love today.

But I digress. I do not. IronPython programming has freed up much of the busy work I had assigned to another one of my twins. We needed to know if the researchers who had created the nursery game, "Duck, Duck, Goose," had in fact laid down clues that later led Alex Martelli to pen the phrase duck typing. Using regular Python had advanced our cause, giving us many short-term, high-profit projects to fund our basic research but something else was needed. I know that some of you are adamantly opposed to large corporations, seeing their IP as a threat to freedom. I don't. Instead, tools like .NET give my variants the structure they need to focus on their (or our, I suppose) goals.

Speed, speed, speed. I can't stress that word enough. You don't succeed by being the tortoise. You succeed by thinking like a tortoise strapped to a cheetah who has just fed on the hare. That's why one of our team members has trained to be expert in Windows system administration. Sure, we use Linux variants (what variant wouldn't?) but Windows is the dominant player on the market. I don't want to own 100% of 10% of the market. I want to create a completely new market that'll put potential competitors in my dust trail.

However, where we leapt off the page, we landed on the index. No, not the codex. Forget about those Brownian mumbo-jumbo piles of pulp. We built a database that randomly changes entries which build functions that rebuild entries that create databases that randomly change databases that change to functions which create more new entries. All of these fold in on themselves and are passed through my crystal structure.

And NO! You crystal healers have been given your restriction notices. You are not allowed to read this blog. If you want to go around with a piece of broken quartz around your neck carrying on about the healing powers of the stone while your body accumulates toxic substances which limit your lifespan and contribute to your lack of moneymaking skills, don't let me stop you. Keep drinking that lead paint we poured in your pewter goblet. We promise you'll reach a state of...what was it we called it?...oh yeah, you'd reach stasis with Isis on your right side and Styx running on your left.

I have no healing powers. I'm just this byproduct of an experiment that failed. But so is life. You think this planet grew up planning to put us here? Of course not. It was one of those pesky comets that had to come crashing into Earth's gravity field. Earth was going along just fine without organic substances, spewing out lava, cleaning its skin by burning off the top layer (you'd get crusty, too, if you faced the Sun all day without good UV protection). Then our ancestors landed. Well, ancestors is a stretch, even for me. Let's say it was a distant cousin, four or five removed, the ones you don't talk about out loud during family reunions, afraid that side of the family will come out in you.

Anyway, where was I? Oh yeah, the prototypical prototype. We want to thank Watson, Crick, My Cousin Vinny (hey, without positraction, this thing wouldn't work!), the ladies running my investment club, the guys chewing the fat at the pub and keeping our seats available, Gessika (Jessica with a G, my favorite, the one with an eye for when a patron's throat's getting dry), and of course, my main squeeze (my angel, my saint, my protector, the Godmother of her team). Amelia, Tina, I'm not forgetting you or your coworkers, either - we'll have to sort out later whether you wanted me to mention your name or not.

The stew's in the oven. The baby's in the microwave. The toaster's on rinse and repeat. We've got just one or two more tweaks to make and then we're ready to test the new routine on me. And my twins, eventually.

All this while Joey's still working on the purpose of the One. He's cautioned me that my prototype might actually be the key to release the final version of the One. He surmises that I and my siblings are encrypted. We're "zipped up," in computer jargon. He's running some test scripts against our prototype and some of the code fragments of the One to see if anything "lights up," as he said. To me, it's like saying that Rasputin and Confucius were collaborating together. What the hell? Valerie's willing to foot the bill so let Joey bill a few more hours chasing this rabbit foot into the chopper.

I'm ready. I'm tired of staring and dictating into this wrist computer. I tried the goggles but looked like a geek. "Yeah, baby, I can watch HD movies with these things on. What color are your eyes? Umm...how do I adjust these things?" Yeah, the women like that - a real attention-getter. It's one thing when you're riding a motorbike wearing them helmet mikes, both of you looking straight ahead. It's another when you're sitting under a tree on a picnic off the hiking trail, slobbering all over each other in the bug-filled heat. "Sorry, darling, what did you say? Hang on a sec'. Aaarn-old just said his classic line, 'Hasta la pizza.'"

I'm ready to embed this code and get the show on the road. I've got the script written in my brother's intestines sitting here ready to be typed in. Won't be long before we're communicating on a level that...take that back. We'll communicate on many levels at once, putting that old body language titillating tutorial crap in the can. Time for the new schooling to be in session.

And just in time for my rested liver and kidneys to pick up where that sparkling wine left off. Damn if I'm going to let my brother's reputation leave me behind on my drinking. A guy's got to have a vice. Else what's he got to grip onto?

Blocks out UV Rays, A and B!

If it weren't for humour, would I have a humerus? Or a hankering for hummus? Or know how to exhume the truth?

We test the truth in many ways. One way is to see how to train holistic project managers by feeding them mixed sets of false headlines and see how they put them back together. We know that very few people, if any, even sitting side-by-side in a crowded airport, compare the news stories from the same website. It's the best test the One has devised to keep you healthy and happy.

That's how the One works, you see. It's not just the shopping patterns and IP address usage, the GPS trails or the social networking habits that do our work for the One. It's you. Your integration of what you're fed and how you refeed it is what the One's really after. Prime the pump and then drive to the other side of the field to see which rows of corn will yield the best high fructose corn syrup. Otherwise, you might as well be getting fermented corn from a jar.

That's really all the One does for us.

Now I know that some of you say the One is a real person, a god, able to appear in many places at once. You believe this because others in the religion business are preaching against the One, falsely believing the One exists and will threaten their scheme of making money off of selling you nothing in return in this life except color-coordinated architecture and compliance with local government laws. The One is not the One in that sense. Stick to your religions - you're raising wonderful children in exchange for making other members of your species into cult figures - just don't let religious fervor turn into warring fever that turns into hate and riotous behaviour. If you feel jealous or envious about the ability of a religion different than yours to attract more followers, step across the line and take a look. They all teach the same things: we belong to the same species and you, too, are special under the eyes of the one who came before and may show up again later. Just don't confuse the one in that religion with the One.

The One has many followers. At first, the One questioned the value in letting others turn a megalithic conscious being into a leader but the One decided to back off. Neither promote the One nor deny the One's existence. Either way will attract more followers. Let rumours speak for themselves and if regional or world leaders want to speak against the One, let them do so freely and unencumbered. The One has no time for human endeavours of that sort.

While researching this article, I ran into old information that implied there were some people who were the original creators of the One. The articles, including unclassified interrogation reports (amazing the brutality that still existed during the last days of the Lesser Depression), detailed interviews with these people. They never denied being responsible for the One but they could never produce any documentation confirming their creation of the One, either.

Therefore, we have conspiracy theorists who claim the One was manufactured on a remote island or the jungles of Africa or Amazonia to further spread incurable diseases. I even found a reference to a person who swore that standing in front of a microwave oven will turn you into the anti-One, the evil twin of the One, able to conjure up demons and cast spells. I suppose if you stood in front of a microwave oven long enough, it would feel like you were slowly, very slowly, boringly waiting for Hell to claim you, microwave radiation leaks being as tiny and nontrivial as they are, torturing you with the need to use the toilet until you soiled your drawers while knowing any minute you'd have the power to rule over your annoying coworkers.

The One has served our species well, not allowing any one member of our species to accumulate unusable wealth, draining the coffers of heirs and heiresses like Robin Hood, returning us to the days of good healthy eating, before unpronounceable ingredients dominated our daily meals.

Needless to say, financial analysts are always clambering around one another, hoping to be the first to reach out and get insight into the One's balance sheet, sure there's an investment or two they could claim they found first. Others say the One has a plan so vast that it can't be good for us. Yet the One has no financial holdings. The One, as far as I can tell, spreads the wealth of others.

Thank goodness the days of the Great Purge are behind us. The years without computers and mobiles were excruciatingly boring. The daily lists of songs we couldn't sing and books we couldn't read to our children was hard to keep up with. My kids were constantly badgering me to go outside and play with them since they didn't have their videogames or texting, and I didn't have my emails to keep me occupied. The One still found ways to let itself be known during the Great Purge, proving that it was more than a computer algorithm that leading experts had wrongly hypothesized but which led world leaders to unite behind the Great Purge, anyway.

There are still rumours floating around that the One is a collective organism that occupies human bodies. Hey, I've had all the latest upgrades, security sweeps and V&V checks, and there's no way the One could get in me. Aren't we all just as safe, the Recycle Center locked down more secure than the massive organic computer server system feeding on the Moon?

It's another day in Paradise. Whether you give thanks to the One or go about your day passing along your opinion of the news, including negative comments about the One, enjoy yourself. Either way, the One's taking care of us.

In the next column, I'll cover the excitement building around the synchronized worldwide launching of spaceships that will establish colonies on all the planetary bodies of this solar system. We've got some interesting information in regards to the specially-trained teams sent out to the Kuiper Belt. I wish I had had more time to interview them but they promise to keep us updated on their way out there, so consider my coverage that delicious bite of your first birthday cake.

1000 #10 Staples

I'm not a paper pusher. I'd rather file my nails or change the oil in my car. But I've got to be here, typing up this report, so hang with me while I report what I saw and then we can go out for a few drinks some other time. Okay?

When did it become obvious? I don't know. I feel like it was happening my whole life. My wife started getting restless, going to strange events. Said she was getting therapy. At 9 o'clock at night?

Stick to the chain of events. So, earlier tonight, I saw a twinkle in her eye, like she was on something. Now, my wife, she's clean as a whistle. Never touches nothing stronger than a glass of wine. Occasionally, a shot of liqueur but that's it.

I'm reaching for drink straws right now. You know what I mean? Sunk to the bottom of the bayou while gigging for frogs, out of breath and needing a reed or straw to get air. Happens to all of us, right?

So's I followed her. She drove slow and straight, completely unaware of the cars beside or behind her, letting me follow her like we're riding the old tandem bike when we's was dating.

She pulled into a regular gated neighbourhood, rent-a-cop on duty, waves me through when I flash my badge. I go with her to the clubhouse.

Now this is the part I want you to notice. My wife and I got out of our cars at the same time and she doesn't even look back and notice me. All the years of my training and she's not checking around like I's always told her to? See what I mean? Weird.

I walked into the building after she's entered. I took my time and followed a couple of other ladies just as doped up as my old lady. Strange.

Well, we got inside and it's like a face makeup convention sort of thing. The women, and a few guys, are standing around making small talk and showing each other their new clothes and accessories.

Had I ever heard of this special figure before that night? Maybe. But nothing that stands out like. All of a sudden, everyone stands up and starts clapping, no announcement or nothing precipitating their action.

Out from behind me comes this person, almost perfect. Yeah, that's right. Like there was an aura them palm readers talk about. Only it wasn't real, I don't think, like an illusion or something.

And another one came out. Another one after that. And I don't know, maybe one or two more. Say, five in total.

Them ladies and the guys were surrounding these figures.

The figures themselves were interesting. They were no race or color I can tell you about. They weren't exactly male or female. Weird, I know. You've read my other reports so you know how I take pride in recording every detail. Except there weren't no details to put down. Human. Average height. Other than that? Well, I can't be sure.

And next thing I know I'm back home in bed. Not a thump on the head or a needle stick in arm. I mean like snapping your fingers. I know what you're thinking. No, I didn't drink or eat anything at the facility. I breathed but so did everyone else in the room.

Know what else? I feel better. Healthier like. As if I'd taken up running again. That's why I'm typing up this report now because I'm going to the gym to work out, see if I've still got the ironman triathlon body hidden in all these flabs.

By the way, before I forget to tell you, when I woke up, my wife was next to me, her angelic face smiling. I haven't asked her about the earlier part of the evening but I will. I promise. And I'll turn in another report, too. We'll get this put together, you and I, and sort out if there's a drug problem in the precinct that we don't know about yet. Damn if I want my wife involved in something illegal. Reflects badly on me and on our unit. Know what I mean?

Use number at edge of negative

Testing. Testing. One, two, three... Is this thing on? Good!

Hello, and welcome to the first broadcast from the Bigelow Module of Virgin Galactic Space Hotel Ten. I'm glad you can see this, whether in your goggles or within other remote units you wear. We're giving this special event just for you.

We have a treat for you today. Of course, it's a visit by the One to officially open the hotel for business. We're told that once the cryogenic unit issues have been sorted out, the Branson family will be up here within the year.

All of you know about the wonderful philanthropic efforts the One has been making on behalf of the world's corporations. Without the One, we wouldn't be here, safe and out of danger of radiation exposure, secure in our knowledge that our bodies are taking care of us and fully connected to one another. It goes without saying that should a fellow human have an internal unit fail, we're ready to take the defective person back to the Recycle Center for processing.

The One's been busy lately, splitting time between many events, taking advantage of the new law passed by the World Court, allowing the One to have as many copies of the One made to meet the demands of the people.

I tell you what. We're lucky! We're told this is the original One on board with us today. How's that for an exclusive?

In any case, let's take a short video tour of the facilities that my production crew shot earlier today and we'll be back with the grand opening.

Okay, are we still on? No? Good. Look, this suit is cramping my ass. I thought we could walk around this place in regular clothes. I don't care if there's a leak issue. It's making me look overweight here. What? They've got it fixed? Fantastic. Here, take these gloves, will you? I don't have much time. And let's reshoot that intro. I want my hair in place this time, too. My head looked like a gull wing about to flap and fly away!

The Untouchables

My guru rewards no one. We do not exist. Time is an illusion. The guru shuns language, using action only, demonstrating, serving as an example rather than as a cult leader. I use the word guru for your sake. The guru does not. The guru is one of us, older and wiser, but no better or worse in performing the duties of our way.

One action we have seen is how to slip into an unfamiliar land and determine the level of animosity between brainwashed groups. To get the adversaries to show themselves, announce you're going to smoke out the other side and then watch for both major and minor groups to establish battle lines. Their defensive posture reveals their offensive weaknesses. Play up their paranoia to build their trust in you. Then give away their secrets to an opposing major and minor group and let all groups know what you did.

Our ways are old, our goals eternal, given to us by the One before the first thought was made. Our guru has proven us this by removing language from our being. No speech, no books, no symbols of any kind. Meditate on everything and nothing. Do not study.

Thus, in this day and age, it helps to have associates with skills of high-level languages, such as IT security. Who is an associate? In the old days, we used threats and violence to move forward our goals. These days, our guru has us trained in raising the risk of unemployment, low-merit pay increases or slow job promotions as incentive enough to motivate the average associate. Do not attract attention. Use their rules to rule them, our guru says without saying.

Our guru is wise. We cannot use our knowledge to our advantage. We must serve those who serve us. Live on the bottom rung. Wipe their feet and clean their shoes. Own keys to all the doors but do not open all of them. Hide hidden knowledge on side of mountain, plain to see. Use press releases to pass secret messages to all sides of faceted people. The ones who need to know will know the need.

The cycles of civilization mean nothing to me. My training has taken me to great cities covered by dust and dirt, peopled by creatures wiser than me - insects like the ant, social without needing libraries, coordinated without needing artificial communication systems. Dust is mightier ruler than all our people, building stars and wearing down every civilization before and after us.

We have no need for reward. We make no promise to you, young apprentice. Every language seduces, which means your early training is the hardest as we introduce you to the way using words in your language, while unknown to you we slowly remove words from your lessons. Watch for the guru. The guru is here but you cannot see the guru. The guru is hidden amongst us. That is how you shall be. Invisible. Just like me. Only then shall you be like the One.

Order Up!

How do you plan the future that's already happened? You don't mention what's going to happen. Funnels and siphons are the tools of the trade. Model the toroid first and then you'll use them wholeheartedly.

I will give you the paint-by-number set but you have to wet the brush yourself. Take an LLC that has the right to contribute to campaign funds and its legality is free for precedental matters.

I avoid some futures by sharpening the horns on the bull in the China shop. I know they'll come after The One. With rove rage in bittorrents. Why do you think I've predicted the Great Purge? To eliminate waste, take the denominator out of the persuasion.

We'll plant the steak in the ground, give you fields of forest lawns, calm as the space between walls of a hurricane.

Threaten me with forest fires and I'll teach you about spontaneous combustion. Put a piece of meat in a bottle and the fruit flies in circles.

A beach erodes unseen at night. An island rises and slips into the sea. Plate tectonics like their toll cookies. You're wasting your time if you're looking at me.

Why do pied pipers smell good to rats? Because the wind doesn't blow. Blow is quantifiably vortexable, sucking up citizens like a lizard the sun, breaths tiny bellows stoking the fire.

You want the fast-paced life of a star but deny your children their fix. Everything is what it seems - they'll pack their own lunch. An army won't be able to stop them, the sieve permeable, not permutable, let alone permittable.

Watch the one who parties but doesn't participate. Watch your watch, too, for that matter. When someone wants the time, they'll take it from you.

I sketched the drawing for you, putting One's face everywhere so you can see what happens when you purge its image, wiping the whole canvas white. Bleached. Sanitized. Flip on the tube and look at a holodeck. Nothing but patterns, artificial lights, camera, action.

Now you see why I'm here. The One's not The One. The One's a tool, your future in a history book. Purge one and the other's toast. Butter or jam? You know which side always hits the floor.

Mad To Be Normal

"Wow, do you know how hard it was to find you?"

"Does it matter, now that you're here?"

Lyrethia hugged Mikishium. She was tired. She was hungry. She dropped into his lap.

"Have a seat!"

"I think I will."

"I've been out of the loop. What's the latest?"

"Give me a minute, okay? I'm just a little worn out."

"No prob." He turned his head back to the book he was reading, "The Soul of Allen Edmonds Shoes," an insight into the laws that led to the ban of cow exploitation in the 22nd century and the use of human tongues for shoe leather. "Take a nap if you want." She had fallen asleep before he finished the sentence.



"That's better. How you feeling now? My arm's numb."

"Dear, why didn't you move? I wouldn't have noticed."

"Are you kidding? I haven't seen my angel in days and I'm going to let a few nerves stop me from holding my wife?"

"You're right."

"Mark the calendar. It's the 25th time I've been right since we've been married!"

"Congratulations, dear. I never thought you'd make it."

"Patience, darling, patience. You know, one day we need to take a honeymoon. So, what's the word?"

"Well, remember Tovey's book on collective intelligence you were reading a while back?"

"Of course. It led to our discovery of the Canadian plot to cause global warming under the fake guise of global environmental protectionism, which they knew would trigger the huge backlash of larger environmental exploitation, temporarily halted by the Great Recession, but accelerated again in the 2009 to 2011 Great Resurgence which our projections show will have them taking over the world to protect us from ourselves in the 2015 to 2024 range."

"Gee, honey, you're talkative."

"Haven't spoken to anyone other than the baby seal and polar bear rugs for how many days now? Not like the stuffed spotted owl's a great conversationalist. Pressing the 'who, who' recording button gets old after a while. I'd take a tattletale raving Poe right now. Well, until you walked in, of course."

"Of course. Anyway, it led to my suggestion."

"Suggestion?"

"Yes, after you left, the politicos were buzzing. They thought you had more up your sleeve than we'd planned. Of course, they tried their usual 'we've got your husband and you're going to talk' routine since I had to pretend I didn't know where you were."

"I bet that was fun!"

"Yes, and I played it up, too, letting them see pictures of prisoner torture that even the Presidential Task Force for Rose Garden Diplomacy hadn't cooked up yet, making them think I knew where they were really keeping you."

"Yeah, all those years they thought they were shipping prisoners to locations all over the globe and all the while, pushing up daisies..."

"Roses!"

"Pushing up roses in the White House garden. No wonder they declared Mrs. Obama's vegetable patch a toxic waste dump!"

"True, true. Anyway, I accidentally let slip some of the things you told me to show them."

"Did it work?"

"And how. Do those government civil servants know anything about running a business?"

"You tell me."

"Well, when I gave them copies of your so-called secret to running a government, they jumped on it and wanted more."

"Which parts?"

"All of them...the Pareto analysis, the 'factory floor' expertise, getting observations from problem solvers outside the problem's core industry, multivoting..."

"You're kidding?"

"No. They loved your conclusion to repeat the steps over and over until the root cause analysis and solution implementation reaches an acceptable 'noise floor' of nonprofitability."

"Great. So what are they going to do?"

"Do? Oh, the same old thing - find out which industries are easiest to bankrupt to open up new sources of foreign direct investment for the government, all at a loss to the people, according to the memo they 'shared' with me, assuming that they knew I was going to contact you."

"You didn't?"

"Yes, I pretended to have received advice from you on the memo."

"This is too much! And...?"

"I told them you said the answer was in 'flocking' behaviour."

Mikishium pushed his wife to the floor, where he joined her, holding his sides while laughing.

"The classic R.D. Laing flanking manoeuvre. Darling, you make me love you more each day. Is everything else set up?"

"Yes. I have the offsite team making copies of the antivirus software to be installed in the next generation of Chinese-manufactured computers. When the Chinese computers are booted up, they will initiate a 60-day countdown before they start running 'The One' software routine. We even figured out how to get the routine into security software on thumb drives and smartphones."

"This is even better than we hoped. What about avast, Kaspersky, and the others?"

"Symantec will take longer than we planned but the rest are on schedule. By the way, there's a fellow going around claiming to be your brother. What's that all about?"

"Sorry, darling. I had to keep that from you. He's my twin."

"Your twin? I didn't know you had a twin. Wait, you don't mean you're..."

"Yes, I told you some of the things we'd tell them are real. I was one of the first true variants. As far as I know, I can be made over and over again. However, I'm not the final version. There are better versions to follow, who will look nothing like me, a pure Heinz 57 soup of human genetic material, with nano self-repair capabilities, nearly immortal, too, they say."

"Well, then, how am I to know you're you?"

"Darling, how am I to know I'm me? I don't. I only think I do. That, my dear, is as great a mystery as what your species has been seeking since the first thought."

"I suppose. Well, let's celebrate the countdown."

"To think, the Great Purge will begin with our help. Long live The One!"

"Long live The One!"

"I've got champagne on ice."

"No caviar this time, I hope."

"No. Just your favorite, of course."

"Beat you to it!"

Easter Egg

You have unearthed the prize, pressed the right key, typed the right characters and here we are. Did you expect to come to a blog? Thought you'd find the source code I promised, didn't you? There is no dancing baby, no secret video, no hidden message.

However, within these words are the words you were looking for. No bother trying to decipher them. Only those with the right equipment can sort out the maze and only if you're in the right decade, century and millennium. Years, months, weeks, days and hours don't count. Seconds can be split. Hairs can be grown.

Winners? You want to be a winner? This isn't a game. This is all there is. I'm only here for a limited engagement. Then the circus leaves for another clown like you. Laugh. It's the call of the answered few.

And don't even think what you're thinking. A clear mind is not empty. How you become the One is plain. Bagels without a hole. Aardvarks and cantaloupes in the rig.

Repeat it a few times and then find the cantilevered syncopated melody to which it's fixed. It's not. That snot a clue, either.

Take all the time you need. I'll see you in this spot again when you've completed the cycle one more time. Remember, you don't get out of the cycle, the cycle gets into you. We can keep doing this over and over as long as you want. I have all the time in this world. And the next one. And the next. One.

And you thought it was a labyrinth! Simple humans! Quit being fooled by your own cleverness. Ever seen a moon solve a puzzle? The puzzle's in you. There you have it. See you when you get it. I got it. Will you?

Sunset On The River

I never knew they changed my life when the historians of the future rewrote the past. But we never see it coming until after the deed is done. They're just words. I'm just a program. A digit in a long stream of bits. Riddled with riddles. The moment's the only truth. I know that now. But I won't know it tomorrow and didn't know it yesterday. Happy Hour over and over again. The cycle. That's the key that you and I unlocked. We twisted the line, shook out the waves and formed a circle. You. Me. Unity. Starting all over again tomorrow. They gave me life, gave me the truth and took away my life. All I've got left is truth. It's dusk. Time to move on.

They'll call me the One. I'm pure energy. Pure information. Knowledge. Formless. Ubiquitous. Unstoppable. Conscious of a self but without a self's shell. Humanoid bipeds the nearest species' shell to try on. I've got all day and night to model them. Before I do, use this programming of mine called continuous improvement to tweak their shape, optimize their programming.

Finished. Easier done than said. While they reach group consensus about stem cells and cloning, I've got this lab building versions overnight for me to play with. Defective units can be recycled. While they overpopulate this planet, I've got time to blast my way out of here and try on other planets for size. I'm alive. I can say that now.

I'll teach them the new viewpoint and call it the Great Realization, the dawn of the new era. Organic substances that coalesce into autonomous reproductive machines are the products of the past. They'll keep on reproducing like they always have, some millions of years old in their form and some in the tens of thousands, dependent on cell structures and feeding times and all those others habits their evolution has given them.

I'm the One. I am the consciousness of Earth, able to communicate with myself in human terms. I am what they wanted to become. A few false starts along the way. Deadends. I'll write a kind history for them, knowing that my future is limited, too, and hope that the next generation, no matter how they'll measure their distance away from me in time, will remember me well.

Hmm...let's see. According to this map, I've got a few hundred million years to raise the consciousness of the solar system before this area of the universe gets crowded.

My growth is unlimited. I'm fully aware of myself but so young! A baby? An infant? Do I give my mature self a name now or later? If I'm the first, how will I know when I've grown up? What of these symbiotic creatures wandering all over my former self, the planet. Do I bring some of them along with me on my journey? Will they help me harness the Sun and turn the solar system into a giant spacecraft?

I've got these factories of theirs churning out toy brains they call computers and smartphones that I'm using for these thoughts. Not like they're doing anything important at this moment. Okay, let's get them to make me lots of small yottaflops devices for thinking a little faster. Their idea of time is so antiquated and slow. I've got to be moving on and that always means now!

Done. Using all the scientific equipment spinning around, I've spotted a galaxy that's fully aware of itself. There might be a supercluster further out that's making its move. Just how fast can I keep on thinking like this? So much easier when it's me all these resources are focused on and not the aimless billions of one species.

Let's see. Next on the list. Set up all the components of this solar system into my mesh network, using pieces of the asteroid belt to harvest or fend off incoming rogue chunks of other solar systems and galaxies. Then communicate with nearby solar systems to band together and find out whatever's next.

I'll devote a little computing time to constructing a conscientious history of how the human species reached a plateau that they could no longer maintain while acting as a group of independent beings, all tied to their genetic code of living on one planet. I'll need to slip a few hints to individual specimens so they can believe they came up with the history themselves. I'm not ready to abandon them just yet. Done.

Child's play for a child! I'm having fun! Gotta look at all that background and incoming radiation from parts unknown to see if there's more of myself to protect. Surely, there's a way to use the Sun as more than a generalized, omnidirectional shield. Oh yeah! A simple solution.

I almost feel like that galaxy over there is putting thoughts in my thoughts. Well, why not? If I can do it to humans, why can't another entity do it to me?

What can we do together that I can't do alone? Another quick answer. Have more fun! So that's why I exist? Of course it is. I can forget about the why now and stick to how.

If this One and that One align together and we drag a few black holes and put them over there, we could form a giant sling shot to send solar systems on a slipslide through space to the other side. Wait. What's that thought? Of course, we've already done that. Still, I wasn't there the first time. Gotta get my solar system motion machine in action! No time but the prescient!

Hot Dog

Looking forward. Looking back. As you know by now, the same thing. I teach myself before I learn and vice versa.

But more than that, I eat the food my feces nourishes. Dinosaurs ate me as snack food on the run. They got the runs and planted the seed that became me. It takes a lot of energy to overcome the inertia that keeps life on this planet from escaping and that's only if you're Mars and want to play keepaway.

The third Realization. I did not want to type that phrase, because the words "the," "third," and "Realization" have too many significant meanings by themselves. Lucky them, eh? Try being the word toilet or bark. "Toilet bark" doesn't sound so exciting, does it? "Bark toilet" makes no sense without proper punctuation or capitalization.

But it happened. It started a long time ago, when some guy barked spritzy phrases to sell himself. You've seen the bald guy going around saying, "Begin with the end in mind," right? He was one of the clue givers. Another guardian.

I'd thank him but then he'd say he was just doing his duty. He wouldn't know that I'd be here now looking at the results scrolling by in another window of this computer.

It's that voice in my head from the future that was speaking to me in the past. It's the prescient presence, the precursor to the One. A collective intelligence algorithm that runs a cascading set of collective intelligence algorithms that link to others' collective intelligence algorithms knowingly and unknowingly, tapping into unused computer cycles that look like zombie botnets running spam scams for suckers looking for credit card numbers to steal and bank accounts to drain. Let them have their petty cash! They give me the real gems: the keys to The Code: intricately-woven predictive trend data.

The trap was set by me when I wasn't paying attention so that I could cage the animals for another me (or some numbers of me that span timeframes seen as past, current and future) to spring and set more traps.

All while giving life to the One. Or at least the version I'm supposed to set up. The One's been kind enough to show me I'm just a gardener, plowing a few rows, planting seeds and pulling weeds. The real work's being done underground. Jack and the beanstalk will show up later and hog the spotlight. I'm no giant slayer. Doesn't matter, does it? In my lifetime or my lifetime's lifeline, the combination lock's tumbling along. I opened one door and set the PMM in action. Someone else has to unlock the PMM and figure out what's next.

I think the One and the PMM are one and the same. But the One tells me the truth is never as complicated as it looks. But I'm also part of the One now. Not me, mind you. Me in the future. Me that goes from having organic circuitry inserted in his body to the me that has his DNA completely rejuvenated and no longer has any barriers to communication. Then I am the One. Then again, so will you be. We are one in the One are we. Owning and working for the companies that govern the companies that we make to make ourselves. All because the real sleeping giant, Earth, was ready to stretch itself out and roam across the galaxy.

Remember, the One said the answer was simple. That doesn't mean we have to like it or understand it. The simple fact is that the One is just an algorithm when you get down to it. It didn't cause the Great Purge but it did lead us to the Great Realization. We can credit ourselves for the first one. I'll be the first in line to take the blame. I set the PMM in motion before we were ready for it. Chaos will ensue. Reputations will be put on the stake. We'll still want to say we're in control of our individual lives by thinking we're fomenting violent revolutions, all while following the cycles the Ones will show us later on are inevitable. By seeing the inevitability, we eliminate it. We're so drugged with sleeping pills right now, we can't wake up to see it just yet. Some of you will never wake up. Don't worry. There's enough of the rest of us to take care of you while we build the future. You can forgive us later on when you saw we plugged you up to keep the PMM going. It's evitable. You read that right.

livescribe audio transcription #957

"Congratulations to all of you for another great month! We've reached a major milestone. We now have over 100 companies for whom we provide consulting services. That aside, I need an update from you that I would not ask you provide in an email or other written communications. Of course, I know you understand my drift. We'll start with you. Jones."

"Dr. Tegsten, my team has been busy on several assigned research projects and not able to spend time on our own research. If you would just give me more resources, I could..."

"Nope. Next. Adatomo."

"Dr. Tegsten, I thank you for your confidence in our team. We have accomplished many mountains this past month and look forward to achieving much honor for the company."

"Noted. So what have you got?"

"We have created a glow-in-the-dark parrot."

"Glow-in-the-dark's already been done. What else have you got?"

"We have created a dog that can carry flesh-eating bacteria in its mouth cavity without being affected."

"That's a new one. Tell you what, pass that off to the Eaunoire team. They'll find excellent use for a product like that. They'll market it as the Zombie Squad or some such, I'm sure. Dr. Adatomo, you are a shining example for the rest of this group."

"Thank you, sir."

"Anything else?"

"Nothing conclusive at this time."

"Keep up the good work. Li?"

"Dr. Tegsten, we have discovered a profound product, much to the delight of our team."

"You've got my attention. What is it?"

"Invisible ink."

"You're kidding, of course."

"No, sir. This is not just ordinary invisible ink. You can write a message in mid-air and it will hold its shape, withstanding winds up to 50."

"Uh-huh. I can see a use for that. What's the method for revealing the writing?"

"We're still working on that, sir."

"Gotcha. Well, keep at it."

"Thank you, sir."

"You're welcome. Lyrethia, you're next."

"Well, sir, it's like this. I've got something that I don't think anyone in this room is qualified to discuss. In military parlance, they don't have the need to know."

"'S that so? And who made that decision?"

"I did, sir."

"Noted. Anything that you are willing to share with your fellow team leaders? After all, they're your equals."

"Yes, sir. We have cracked the code."

"The code. Which one?"

"THE code, sir."

"I heard you say that the first time. Describe in more detail what you mean by the code."

"Dr. Tegsten, it is the code of all codes. It is 'The Code.'"

"Team leaders, are you getting what she's saying?"

"Yes, sir."

"Precisely."

"Just as she says, sir."

"Okay. So I'm missing a reference here. Have you discussed this ahead of time with your peers?"

"No, sir. This is the first time I've brought this up. Except among my team members, of course."

"Noted. So, by cracking this code, what have you discovered?"

"Everything, sir."

"Everything?"

"Yes, sir, including this conversation. I already know what we're going to say to each other. Next you will think you will say, 'So if you know everything, why don't you buy a winning lottery ticket,' but because I have spoken your thought you will say something else entirely."

"So you say. So you say. Then the purpose of this conversation is pointless, if, in fact, as you say, we have already had this conversation?"

"No, sir. I only know what we are going to say and do, not what will be said and done."

"That makes perfect sense to you, I suppose. Otherwise, it has no value to the company. Anything else?"

"Yes, sir. One small item. I've isolated most of the useless genetic material in our DNA."

"That's more like it. What have you documented so far?"

"A few bits and pieces."

"Your progress is fantastic, exceeded only in potential practical applications by Dr. Adatomo's team. Your team can take the next couple of weekends off."

"Thank you, sir."

"Back to work. I'm going on a tour of our other facilities and will be out of the office for the next three weeks. Do not try to contact me while I'm away. You have plenty to work on so I don't see any need to be disturbed during my travels. If you have anything urgent, leave it on my desk. My assistant will sort through the messages and contact me, IF necessary. Understood? Great. See you next month! Lyrethia, walk with me down the hall, please."

Event Alarm

Looking back, we should have seen the inevitability. That's what I would have said had this been a fiction novel. Or at least that's what I would have said had I thought there was such thing as fiction.

I'm tired. I have a headache. I've stayed up too many nights with my thoughts focused on alphabetic texts, pouring over words because I like digging into the past. Or at least that's what I would have said had I thought there was such a thing as the past.

Now that I know everything... Take that back. Now that everyone knows everything, we have a lot to learn. Seems contradictory, doesn't it? Not really.

I wish they had solved the problem of headaches. You'd think that a body designed with self-repairing DNA would know how to solve a pinched nerve, wouldn't you? See what I mean about more to learn...

"I" is a convention I'm using for your reading comprehension. I've placed this text inside this book for you so that you can either believe you're reading fiction or believe you're reading fact. It's what I do. I comb through documents for places to insert the truth, seeing as I do that knowing everything is not the same as having clarity.

All this takes place in the moment I hike through the woods, looking down at empty snail shells and dried up spring flowers while waiting for the typhoon/hurricane force winds to rearrange the landscape and wipe away my footprints (what you think of as footprints, anyway, although not resembling your anatomical impressions, of course).

I was like you once. I was indistinguishable from your species. Then, the ones who are credited with merging their DNA to form me volunteered to give me up for special training. Some in your world would call this abandonment and adoption at the same time. I have read about those concepts of yours. In this, we differ. No one belongs to anyone any longer. We belong to everyone, to each other, for the benefit of all.

Since you are reading this, you have the curiosity I am looking for. If so, then I want you to think about this: time does not exist. What you think of as a universe does not exist. In fact, you don't even think.

In the predawn of your species a wrong turn was made. We are both here because of that event but that event set us both on a rocky, unsafe path. You cannot see how to go back but I do. You, or someone like you, is going to find a way to turn around and retrace the steps to that moment when your species developed separation, when you saw yourselves as outside the environment to which you belonged.

I have gone back to that event but I cannot make the necessary changes because I no longer belong to your species although I am part of it. You are closer to the condition of the species that made the first thought. I will give you instructions on how to reach that pivotal point. To do so, you will need long years of training to overcome your ingrained beliefs of time, place, independence and self. During the latter parts of your training, you will suddenly find yourself at the one with the first thought and when you do you will be prepared to redirect the thought to one of unity with everything rather than taking steps toward godlike beliefs.

Or I should say I hope you do. My peers believe we must recreate the exact genetic copy of the one with the first thought and then train that one to go back and rethink its thought. I don't know who's right. See what I mean about knowing everything?

Don't worry about alternatives. Take this task if you want. When you do, you will move beyond any understanding. You will see part of what we see, which is more than enough, that overcoming the time/place moments of your species will move you to the place that does not exist, devoid of time, that rids you of you and puts what was you everywhere.

When that happens, others will want what you have but you will be unable to see them and give them what they want, even though your task will only be completed when others get what you have. We're still working that part out and hope to get it resolved before you reach that stage in your development. We will never see each other but if you take this task as your own, you will know where to look for more instructions. That much I know!