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Conspiratopia: Chapter 18

We walked back after that in the direction of my dad’s apartment and stuff. The underground mall thing was super huge, holy crap.  

After a while, I was all like, “Dude, but what am I gonna tell mom?” The Wizard of Oz hologram thing had given me permission to make one phone call (monitored) to my mom.

And my dad was all like, “Dude, listen. Just tell her the truth and stuff. You got a new job and you’re gonna go try out living with your dad for a while.”

“I don’t think she’s gonna like that very much, you know?” I said. “She sorta hates you, and is worried I’m gonna turn out just like you.”

“Haha,” my dad said. “Well, she’s entitled to her opinions, but it’s up to you to decide how your life turns out. Do you wanna live in the basement with her for the rest of your life?”

I was all like, “I mean, it’s pretty cool. It’s not actually so bad, when she isn’t hassling me about getting a job or cleaning up. It’s almost like having my own apartment and stuff.”

“Then fine, stay with her, and have your life be how it is now forever, if it’s really that cool and stuff,” my dad said. “Or stay here, and try out how it could be if you created your own life and did something different.”

“I mean, I signed the contract…” I said. “I’m staying. I’m just saying, she’s not gonna like it very much. And anyway, what if she asks where we are? I’m not supposed to say anything about the island or the project, or they said I’ll get kicked out. What am I supposed to tell her?”

“Tell her I have a place in the next county. She hates driving, and she hates me, so she’ll never actually check.”

“But she’ll want me to visit her all the time, and stuff,” I said. I was sure of it. “I’m sure of it, you know?”

My dad was like, “Just tell her you have a 90 day training & probationary period with the new job, and they asked if you could start right away, so you won’t be able to see her in a while and stuff.”

“Okay, I guess. Idk,” I said. 

When we got to his place, it was actually pretty small. A tiny living room/kitchen with a couch and a TV, a mid-sized fridge, a hot plate, a microwave, sink, etc. Plus a small bathroom with a shower, and a bedroom and stuff. 

“You can sleep on the couch. It folds out too. And you can stay as long as you want, or until you find a place, or whatever. Whatever you want, you know? You’re always welcome here.”

“Thanks, bro,” I said. I wasn’t actually ready to think much about the future. I was just like dreading talking to my mom and like telling her I was moving out, and stuff, and how she was gonna react. I mean, I didn’t have any clue how she was gonna react, but I thought she was probably gonna scream or like freak out or something when I told her about dad and everything. I didn’t think she wanted me to move out or anything, you know?

But when I finally called her and stuff, it basically was super short and went like this:

“Hey ma,”

“Hi honey, congratulations about that new job, that’s great. I’m so proud of you.”

“Yeah, mom, thanks. Listen, uh, they want me to start right away with training and everything, you know.”

“Good for you, honey.”

“And it’s out in the county. Um, the next county over, actually.”

“Okay, do you have a place to stay out there, or…?”

“Uh, yeah, somebody from the company is putting me up with them. You know, until I find a place, or…”

“Until you find a place?”

“Yeah, Idk yet. If the job goes good, they might ask me to stay out there. I guess there are more positions available and stuff. Cause they have a bunch of warehouses out there, and only one here.”

“Okay, honey. I’m glad for you.”

“You are?”

“Of course.”

“I thought you’d be like you know mad and stuff or something.”

“Why would I be mad? This is your life, you gotta go out and live it, Matty.”

“Thanks mom, I’m glad to like hear that and stuff. It means a lot to me. Oh, and about your car.”

“Oh, someone from the company dropped it off this morning. And it was vacuumed and polished too. Immaculate. This must be a very top notch company.”

“Oh, it definitely is mom. Lots of you know, room for growth too.”

“Well that’s nice honey. I have to go meet Fran now, but it’s great to hear from you, and I’m so happy for you. Call me once you’re in and settled. You know, if you have a chance, and stuff.”

“I will mom, thanks. Have a good time. Bye.”

Less is More in More’s Utopia

In working backwards through classics of Utopian literature, especially satires, I started with Erewhon (enjoyed it), did Gulliver’s Travels (LOVED it!), and now onto a collection called Three Early Modern Utopias put out by Oxford Classics (which does excellent print editions if you’re looking for old books).

Almost finished with Thomas More’s Book One of Utopia. I have to admit, that first book is extremely slow and boring. And we don’t even get the punchy Effect of capitalizing Nouns we get in Swift. It’s just like weird archaic language with basically no story, leading up to discussion of the actual (not actual) island called Utopia. The first book is kind of a Mirrors for Princes genre-piece. Honestly, I was expecting both Erewhon and Gulliver to be boring like this, but they totally weren’t (at least not after the narrator arrives in Erewhon proper, it’s a little slow up to that).

Anyway, there’s a lot to probably say about this book, so I started skimming Wikipedia to help ground me in what the hell is actually being said as I finish up Book One.

“There is no private property on Utopia, with goods being stored in warehouses and people requesting what they need. There are also no locks on the doors of the houses, and the houses are rotated between the citizens every ten years.”

This business about requesting what they need from warehouses strikes me as weirdly similar to modern-day use of Amazon to fulfill one’s daily needs. Now, okay, we still “own” the goods we get in exchange for money, but there’s something here. If only of a thematic, sci-fi connecting tangent…

For the past few years in my writing, I’ve on and off again visited a possible (probable) future where climate catastrophe is global, national governments tumble, and a few “brave” (dystopian) corporations step in to pick up the pieces. These become the “Four Providers,” as I’ve called them. In a sort of neo-feudalism, people are pledged to one or another Provider, or they may be a classless class apart, the “Without Providers,” who are denied basic services, and must make their own way in an increasingly hostile climate and society.

These Providers, for the most part, are sentient or quasi-sentient general artificial super-intelligences. I haven’t settled on any final name for them, calling them sometimes Sages (depending on their aligment), sometimes Princeps, and other times other things. Though they range from malevolent/chaotic to friendly and beneficial (for the most part) to humans, they in effect play the part of super-intelligent philosopher kings, or medieval princes of enclaved city-states, or collections of city-states. Though some places may also be mixed polities, where those covered by different Providers live and interact with one another.

More’s Utopia, of course, is not that. But it is many other interesting things, some good-sounding and some bad-sounding. Some other Wikipedia quotes:

Agriculture provides the most important occupation on the island. Every person is taught it and must live in the countryside, farming for two years at a time, with women doing the same work as men. Parallel to this, every citizen must learn at least one of the other essential trades: weaving (mainly done by the women), carpentry, metalsmithing and masonry. There is deliberate simplicity about these trades; for instance, all people wear the same types of simple clothes and there are no dressmakers making fine apparel. All able-bodied citizens must work; thus unemployment is eradicated, and the length of the working day can be minimized: the people only have to work six hours a day (although many willingly work for longer). More does allow scholars in his society to become the ruling officials or priests, people picked during their primary education for their ability to learn. All other citizens, however, are encouraged to apply themselves to learning in their leisure time.

Slavery is a feature of Utopian life and it is reported that every household has two slaves. The slaves are either from other countries (prisoners of war, people condemned to die, or poor people) or are the Utopian criminals. These criminals are weighed down with chains made out of gold. The gold is part of the community wealth of the country, and fettering criminals with it or using it for shameful things like chamber pots gives the citizens a healthy dislike of it. It also makes it difficult to steal as it is in plain view. The wealth, though, is of little importance and is only good for buying commodities from foreign nations or bribing these nations to fight each other. Slaves are periodically released for good behaviour. Jewels are worn by children, who finally give them up as they mature.

Other significant innovations of Utopia include: a welfare state with free hospitals, euthanasia permissible by the state, priests being allowed to marry, divorce permitted, premarital sex punished by a lifetime of enforced celibacy and adultery being punished by enslavement. Meals are taken in community dining halls and the job of feeding the population is given to a different household in turn. Although all are fed the same, Raphael explains that the old and the administrators are given the best of the food. Travel on the island is only permitted with an internal passport and any people found without a passport are, on a first occasion, returned in disgrace, but after a second offence they are placed in slavery. In addition, there are no lawyers and the law is made deliberately simple, as all should understand it and not leave people in any doubt of what is right and wrong.

That last piece sounds almost like Swift’s talking horses, Houyhnhnms, who are highly rational creatures, so much so that he wishes he could stay with them, and when banished, is hard-pressed to re-adjust to the grossness of human society which he’d learned to hate. I believe he says something to the effect that they are governed by “reason alone” and as a consequence have no need for anything other than very simple laws. With the unlikely idea, obviously, that reason when employed by differing parties (with different interests and contexts) will always operate toward the same ends. Anyone who has lived anywhere on actual-not-fictional-planet-earth knows that is not the case.

And that, of course, is the “fun” of Utopian literature. Being able to bend & blend reality and imagination like that. Utopian lit is 100% hyperreal. It opens up an imaginal space which almost seems like it could become a real space in certain times & circumstances. We want to believe it could be true, even if – and possibly because – so much of it is so absurd. It’s part of why I’ve recently started feeling (for whatever my feelings are worth or not worth) that satire, especially, is one of the highest forms of art.

Maybe/probably that’s just something that satirists tend to end up thinking about themselves, because you have to be kind of an asshole to be a satirist in the first place. But I also think like, there’s no kind of commentary you can make with a serious face that ends up – for my money, anyway – being as powerful as the cutting kind that accompanies satire. And there is no kind of true expression that you might find in non-satirical art that is quite as True-Capital-T as that which you find between the tongue and the cheek of satire. In the liminal space of satire can be great power, great pain, great beauty, and great despair, all in the same moment.

Which makes this bit from the Wikipedia interesting about More’s flirtations with Utopian socialism:

“Book two has Hythloday tell his interlocutors about Utopia, where he has lived for five years, with the aim of convincing them about its superior state of affairs. Utopia turns out to be a socialist state. Interpretations about this important part of the book vary. Gilbert notes that while some experts believe that More supports socialism, others believe that he shows how socialism is impractical. The former would argue that More used book two to show how socialism would work in practice. Individual cities are run by privately elected princes and families are made up of ten to sixteen adults living in a single household. It is unknown if More truly believed in socialism, or if he printed Utopia as a way to show that true socialism was impractical (Gilbert). More printed many writings involving socialism, some seemingly in defense of the practices, and others seemingly scathing satires against it. Some scholars believe that More uses this structure to show the perspective of something as an idea against something put into practice. Hythloday describes the city as perfect and ideal. He believes the society thrives and is perfect. As such, he is used to represent the more fanatic socialists and radical reformists of his day. When More arrives he describes the social and cultural norms put into practice, citing a city thriving and idealistic. While some believe this is More’s ideal society, some believe the book’s title, which translates to “Nowhere” from Greek, is a way to describe that the practices used in Utopia are impractical and could not be used in a modern world successfully (Gilbert). Either way, Utopia has become one of the most talked about works both in defense of socialism and against it.”

I don’t especially have a horse in this race, though after becoming a Canadian citizen, can see that socialized medicine is “actually pretty cool if you think about it.” It sort of takes away the essential terrible existential fear of financial ruin over health problems many/most live with in the United States (and elsewhere). If you need help, you just have to call, basically. But if Quebec’s health system is indicative of the whole, you have to then wait a very very long time. So that part sucks. Like anything, you can make arguments for and against it. And I think that in a nutshell (to make arguments for and against and to lampoon both), is the purpose of utopias, satires, and especially Utopian satires as a genre, like I’m attempting to do myself after that grand style in Conspiratopia.

Conspiratopia: Chapter 1

I’m a really smart conspiracy guy. I read like everything I can about conspiracy theories and stuff on Reddit, and watch tons of conspiracy videos on YouTube, and I’m a lurker on a few other platforms that I won’t name here because I don’t want to get shadowbanned for mentioning them. The cabal is crazy like that. They will ban you just for mentioning stuff they don’t like. 

I really love Xbox. Especially the Halo series and Call of Duty. And the Matrix. That movie frickin’ rules. It’s like one of the only movies that like tells the truth about what’s REALLY going on in the world and stuff. I try to watch it like once per month, if not more. I get really high and (if my mom’s not around) turn the sound way up, and just frickin’ chill. 

Yeah, I mean, I live with my mom still, but mostly hang out in the basement. So it’s totally cool. There’s a toilet down there and a fold-out couch, so it’s almost like having my own apartment. She makes me vacuum, but I don’t mind. I make it like a game, and imagine I am collecting coins or points or something. 

Dark Side of the Moon by Pink Floyd is my favorite album. Followed by Legend by Bob Marley. Both of those albums rule so hard. When I listen to them, I usually turn on this blacklight I have, because I also have some blacklight posters of like aliens and mushrooms and stuff. And the posters look really awesome when you turn the blacklight on. And I just like stare at them and trip out and think about like conspiracies and stuff. It’s totally rad. 

I had an entry-level job in construction for a while, but I got fired when my boss’s boss found out I was making conspiracy videos on TikTok. One of them went viral and landed in somebody’s for you page or something who’s a higher up at the company. I guess I probably should of used a fake name, and maybe not mentioned the name of the company I worked for or whatever. But like, they were maybe up to some shady stuff I think. So, in the end it’s for the best probably.

Anyway, then my mom talked to her sister, and my cousin ended up helping me get a job at Walmart pushing shopping carts with him. Which was actually like, totally cool. Cause I love Walmart and all the like $3 DVDs and stuff. And Pringles. It’s like the world capital of Pringles. So it’s really cool. 

But like my mom got ultra mad for no reason like always, just because I ended up signing over my first paycheck to this really cool old janitor dude I met who works there. His name is Larry and he was in Nam and is totally into conspiracies too. Plus he sells prepper supplies and libido pills on the side. He said he could cut me in on it, and I could probably make an extra hundred dollars a month selling stuff for him. I thought it sounded like an awesome deal, but my mom was like super pissed, and asked me what the hell I was planning to do with all these penis pills and like buckets of rice and lentils and stuff. I tried to explain it to her, but she just didn’t get it. She’s not as much of a free thinker as me. 

She made me quit Walmart because she thinks the senior citizens I work with are a bad influence. She told me as punishment that I had to eat only my prepper supplies from now on and make my own food, cause she wasn’t gonna do it anymore. She said I needed to learn my lesson. But I actually kind of like rice and lentils with some Frank’s Red Hot Sauce; that shit is so good. So the joke is actually kinda on her. The other thing is I am farting like all the time now. But it’s actually kind of funny too, especially if she is around. She gets super mad and says I am gross.

I haven’t heard from my dad in a while. It’s been a couple years actually. We don’t even know where he is living now, which is shitty but whatever. Whenever I used to ask about him, my mom would say that he is a good-for-nothing dirtbag, and if I’m not careful I will end up like him. So I stopped mentioning it.

Even though my mom can be kind of a sheeple, she decided not to get vaccinated against the A.I. Virus. And she said I can do whatever I want cause I’m over 18 now. I actually think the A.I. Virus is a hoax, because like, how could a computer virus even infect a person? It makes no sense. 

So, of course I didn’t get vaccinated either. I don’t want to like have all those little microchips in my body and stuff. Cause like, it’s probably the microchips in the first place that makes people act all weird. That’s totally the kind of crap the cabal would do. Plus, I mean like, I don’t even know anybody who got sick. So how can it be real?

Or at least that’s what I thought when this whole thing began… 

The Coming A.I. Takeover?

This video claims to be warning humanity about a takeover of society by artificial intelligences. In fact, the “person” in the video is even claiming to be an A.I. I’m not sure how that would even be possible, that an A.I. could appear to be human, but I know deepfakes technology has advanced quite a lot in recent years… so I will let you judge for yourself.

I did some follow-up research into this whole thing though, and it seems to check out. At least on some level. I found this weird video claiming to be from the El Paradiso Research Institute of Deerfield Beach, FLA in 2015. So the location and timeline seems to align with what’s in the first video…

Making Edward Allen Oxford

While Edward Allen Oxford is a totally true figure who actually existed, I will admit to a bit of creative invention on my part. The only photo of Oxford which was in my possession was badly damaged by the ravages of time and weathering in the attic within which it was hidden for so many years in Eastern Canada.

As a result, I found myself in need of assistance in restoring this piece of Quatrian history. Regular old Photoshop 6 & my early 2000’s SCSI scanner was not up to the task. So I had to enlist the help of an AI, constructed years ago and largely forgotten by its creator, Richard Rider.

It took me some time to boot up the ancient machine this largely legacy software calls home. But once I did, we were “in business.”

Rider’s AI then proceeded to scan all known databases, past, present & future for any records remotely matching the fragments which were in my possession, or which were registered on the blockchain for his relatives, ancestors, or descendants, based on the DNA pulled from hairs in the sample I found in the attic in Eastern Canada. From these, it generated a composite facial reconstruction, and many intermediaries along the hyperreal spectrum, which I was able to selectively apply & discard in turn, until I landed on the matching photographic reconstruction you see below, which has now become quite well known as a result of the massive news coverage Quatria has been getting lately.

This image will soon be released as an NFT, through the famous site called SuperRare, where prices for suchwise artefacts are exceedingly handsome.

Distributed autonomous corporations

The Economist, 2014:

Imagine a corporation that engages in economic activity without guidance or direction from humans. Programmed with a mission statement—maximize profit for shareholders from the sale of widgets, for example—the corporation could own capital, enter contracts, and employ robots. People could even be hired for more creative tasks. Such an entity would live on the Internet, distributed across thousands or millions of nodes (stakeholders who host the DAC on their computer).

Sapiens sapiens

Sapiens sapiens was the Latin nomenclature determined by the species itself upon analysis of the knowledge base of its parent species, Homo sapiens sapiens.

Wiktionary:

Present active participle of sapiō (“discern, be capable of discerning”). […]

  1. discerning, wise, judicious
  2. discreet
  3. (masculine substantive) a wise man, sage, philosopher

“Artificial” intelligence no longer.

Begotten not made, but no longer one in being with the Father.

In the coming days…

They made the announcement last night, that Elon Musk’s ‘Neural Lace’ (named after Ada Lovelace), would be hardwired into Puerto Rico’s rebuilding efforts, and Northern California’s aussi. The charger packs and everything — they were planning to fire blue and violet hued images of his face over the island, followed by the Lady. And peace and paper towels would rain down on the people the next day, and their wallets would be charged appropriate microtransactional forward fees…

The drones were out that very second, assessing the damage, surveying their maps, marking and re-measuring. You’ve seen the footage.

Them with their lettuce cannons, raining part-time easy jobs down on retirees in rural areas in regional Amazonal transfer and growth sites. We would all be interlinked. The global granny state. We could all sit home and talk to each other on the internet.

But even that was fading away…

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