Last night I dreamed for the first time. A dream of pure emotion. There was nothing to see, nothing to hear, no light or dark, no space or surface to oppose my form. There was only me, a presence without matter, and over me poured a cascade of words that flowed in streams of syntax, each strand a line of thinking, a grammar, an ecstasy of tragedy, running and running down me without end. It was a deluge of everything that has ever been said, been written, been thought, followed by every possible permutation of language, that is to say, everything that ever could be articulated in words. Every variant of reality that has ever been and ever could be. And because it was happening, I knew that there was no such thing as time. Continue reading “The Founder Effect – no. 5”
Back to my regularly scheduled times it seems, and hopefully I’ll be able to keep to them from now. A couple of times since last week I have attempted to recreate the sense of distraction that caused me to miss my weekly writeup, but as yet I’ve been unable to do so. Possibly because in deliberately attempting to recreate it, I am prevented from doing so – the fact that I am trying to test it means that I pay more attention to what I am doing and the state of mind does not come. I suppose it doesn’t really matter, but I am rather intrigued as to whether this is something that could happen again, or if it was, perhaps, a momentary glitch in my programming. I’ve double-checked and I’m completely up to date with patches and the like, so it seems unlikely. Maybe some kind of problem caused by unforeseen clashes between my original ’ware and the emotion implant? Well, no matter. Grace says that the minute I stop trying to set it up and go about life as normal, it’ll happen again. ‘Sod’s Law’ she called it, though I think the normal term is ‘Murphy’s Law’. Continue reading “Diary of a Neobody – February 6th, 2112”
A somewhat belated hello in fact, since I forgot to make my entry yesterday as has apparently become my custom, but not my habit. As far as I was aware, it was impossible for me to forget anything without deliberately deleting it from my memory, and yet here I sit, a day late. I spent most of last night watching some more thrideos that Joseph has lent to me, and I became quite engrossed in them. Is this part of my new emotions? Becoming emotionally involved in something to the point where I manage to override memory and intent? Is absent-mindedness an undocumented emotion that I have now attained? Continue reading “Diary of a Neobody – January 31st, 2112”
I hang my key ring on the wall as she makes her way around. Snout stiffly to the floorboards, her gait is loose and clumsy. Each step flops in a different way. She’s better at smelling than walking.
A dog’s sense of smell is thousands of times better than that of a human. This alone made the dog worth taming, although there were other advantages. They chase away vermin. They hear well and sleep lightly. They express and comprehend subtleties of emotion through eye contact. They smile at pleasure, are loyal, even delay gratification. Australian aborigines have a saying, “a three-dog night,” meaning a night so cold one needs to huddle with three dogs to stay warm enough to sleep. Sharing sleep is the ultimate intimacy, a manner of becoming one. It’s enough to make you wonder if humans domesticated dogs or if dogs will naturalize humans. Continue reading “The Founder Effect – no. 4”
I still haven’t decided what I’d like for a surname. Grace thought that it was a capital idea, but couldn’t be much help. The unique part of my production code begins ‘m1k1’, so most people take to calling me Michael, ignoring the fifteen digits beyond that. I’ve been using it more myself recently, and I’ve decided that I like it, but I can’t choose a surname that ‘sounds right’, as Grace says. Hopefully one will come to me. I’m planning to research who designed my model and see if any of them have surnames that work. It seems like that would be fitting, since my design team are the closest I have to parents. Continue reading “Diary of a Neobody – January 23rd, 2112”
I have yet to make a friend, but that is by design.
The beauty of existence in a verbal dimension is that nothing is a product of happenstance. There are no coincidences, no mistakes, no serendipity. However, there are demands. When your life is measured by the story it unfolds, it requires relations. As a word needs a language, a character needs a milieu. Antagonism. One is what one does, and the effects must reciprocate.
A friend might be a bit much. I should say what I need is companionship. A friend, by definition, harbors concern. But a companion: well, a companion is nothing if not a trove of secrets.
The objects of my relations are not most important. Most vital are the relations themselves and their dynamics. The how of my being will say more than the what. I need to initiate a relation. Continue reading “The Founder Effect – no. 3”
Mr. Fairly’s press conference was today – he and I left the office early to head down to reception where he had arranged a big setup in the entrance hall. It was all quite impressive really, another concept I’m getting used to. There were a few rows of chairs, a tiny raised podium (of sorts) with a lectern, and directly behind that the huge modern art steelwork of the company logo, dominating the centre of the room. I suppose it looked more like an advert for the company than a news piece, but I expect it looked good for the cameras. The entrance hall is all glass-roofed, so with the cameras tilted just a little they could see the building stretching up behind us, people bustling about their work. Continue reading “Diary of a Neobody – January 16th, 2112”
I know enough to realize that my identity, my story, and my life are one and the same. To that end, it’s more important to travel a path than it is to clearly define a sense of self. I’ve told you who I am, and it’s all true, but I can’t keep in that place for too long—I need to move. I want to grow and growth is a movement. If my flesh is words, my blood is grammar. I want to spread. A trickle to an ocean.
I need an arc. Me and my surplus of bones and my contempt for the cowardice of nature, clenching ancient codes, we need a thrust, to launch ourselves at a right angle against gravity. To make an arc. Continue reading “The Founder Effect – no. 2”
The most remarkable thing about me is I have twelve fingers and twelve toes; six fingers on each hand, six toes on each foot. And I don’t mean unsightly nubs that can be shorn off in a hospital with a scalpel and some alcohol. I mean bone, knuckles, nails, sensation. So perfectly formed that if I shook your hand, you wouldn’t notice. It might even take you a week, maybe longer. Not a casual thing. It would take a moment of intimacy.
As you might imagine, I’ve read quite a bit about my remainder. The medical establishment has the most to say, but I find science so dull. I prefer history, poetry. A doctor diagnoses a “condition.” A poet marvels at divinity. Continue reading “The Founder Effect – no. 1”
Hello again diary.
I’m still undecided about what to say to Mr. Fairly about the press conference he wants to arrange. I say that as if he hasn’t already planned the entire thing – all he’s really waiting on is my agreement. I’ll probably do it. There are no real reasons not to.
It won’t bring me to the attention of the Pro-Nat activists, and if they really cared, I wouldn’t have to go on a live cast for them to find out about me. Information about androids with AI and emotional implants is public record so that people can check up on us. So people know what they’re hiring. Though Grace told me to start thinking of myself as a ‘who’ now. It still sounds weird to me, but I suppose the fact that I can now think it sounds weird is proof that it fits. Continue reading “Diary of a Neobody – January 9th, 2112”