Everyday Junglist
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About me. You know how everyone says to be a successful writer you should focus in one or two areas. I continue to prove them correct.
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The Hidden Hand
“Let me make sure I understand you clearly Professor Jones, you believe your microflora told you to kill Dr. Doyle?” The prosecutor leaned in close as he spoke, then turned toward the jury and raised a skeptical eyebrow. The gesture was intended to convey a message of incredulity to the nine jurors who listened in disbelief. “Yes. Not told me but made me”, replied the distinguished looking gentleman seated on the witness stand. He wore a simple black suit and had a shock of grey hair that sprouted wildly from his round wrinkled forehead. Many had commented that he looked a bit like Albert Einstein in his later years. In truth the comparison flattered him though his interest in physics had only been at the level of laymen. Microbiology was his passion and had been for the past 30 years. The prosecutor continued. “So, the bacteria in your body forced you to commit cold-blooded murder?” Dr. Jones replied quickly, speaking in a soft southern drawl, and with the authority of a man used to having his opinions respected. “It may not have been just the bacteria. The fungi, viruses and bacteriophage may have also been involved but I do think yes, it was primarily the bacteria in control.” “Sorry professor, can you please clarify for the jury, what exactly are bacteriophage?” The professor responded with some measure of arrogance in his voice, “to put it simply for you and the jury they are viruses that infect bacteria instead of higher life forms like plants or animals or humans.” “Thank you, professor. Can you please explain to the jury how exactly these evil germs were able to do this.” “I am not entirely certain” Dr. Jones replied quickly, the irritation plainly evident in his voice. “I would ask that you please kindly refrain from using the terminology, germs, I and my microbes find it highly insulting. I greatly prefer microbes or microorganisms. Animalcules were also once a favored term though it is much out of style today. That would be acceptable as well.” The professor continued, his volume slowly rising as he gained confidence. This was clearly an issue to which he had given much thought. “You need to understand that the microbes in and on all our bodies are numerically superior to the total number of cells of which they are composed. It is estimated they may outnumber us by as much as an order of magnitude. One order of magnitude means they are present at ten times the number of human cells. We are in fact more microbe than man. To me it is not surprising that given this advantage in numbers they might not attempt to take control at some point.” The prosecutor cut him off before he could continue. “And what was the motive for these animalcules to make you kill Dr. Doyle?” “I believe it was self-preservation. You see my colleague was on the verge of a great discovery, an entirely new class of antibiotics. If he had succeeded it could have revolutionized the control of many diseases and theoretically eliminated the issue of antibiotic resistance forever. Obviously, they were concerned for their continued existence.” Professor Jones smiled smugly and became silent. The prosecutor stared for a moment at the witness, unable to speak. He was obviously stunned by the straightforward and almost scholarly tone of the answer. The insane words coming out of the professor’s mouth just did not match with the way those words were delivered. The jury seemed shaken as well. Mouths hung slightly agape, and fear was evident in many of the juror’s eyes. The courtroom was deathly silent. The prosecutor slowly gathered himself and pressed on. “I am a bit confused Dr. Jones, why would not Dr. Doyle’s own microbes, or his graduate students’ microbes, have acted before yours? They surely were every bit as aware of his research program.” “A question I have considered myself. I don’t have the answer. Perhaps much like people there are different personalities among our microbes. Some are simply not capable of committing an evil act such as murder where others are. Certainly, all the data suggests large variations in the makeup of any one individual’s microflora. Given the variety between people, and the diversity of the microbial population within each it might not be unexpected that they act and react with their host in many different ways. It is also no doubt difficult to achieve any sort of consensus on action among the various genera and species on any given person at any one time. That might also explain the rarity of this type of event. It just is almost never possible to reach agreement on anything and therefore nothing of any consequence is done.” The professor looked genuinely pleased with himself as he considered this possibility, then continued. “I would very much like to study this in some detail when this is over and I get back to university.” The prosecutor looked shocked. “I am afraid you won’t be returning to university anytime soon Dr. Jones. You have essentially admitted to murder and given the jury no choice but to convict you. Your so-called explanation is clearly insane. No further questions.”
By Everyday Junglist10 months ago in Horror
I Died in My Mind. Honorable Mention in The Metamorphosis of the Mind Challenge.
I was hospitalized for the entire month of January 2015 with necrotizing pancreatitis which eventually progressed to multi-organ system failure. For 90% of that month, I was in the ICU. At my lowest point physically, I was given a 20% chance to live. So much fluid had built up inside my abdomen that at various times my kidneys, lungs, and heart each failed completely or had their function reduced to levels below what is necessary to sustain life. An emergency surgery called a decompressive laparotomy saved my life. Basically, they cut me open at the midline of my torso from sternum to waist, spread me apart and left me like that for three days to drain.
By Everyday Junglist11 months ago in Psyche
I am Not Overly Worried About AI Because Not Everything is Computable
There is a good bit of fear among a wide range of people from the everyday man on the street, to politicians, to the media elite, that modern computing (AI) has become or will soon be too capable. In other words, that it can do too many things. These capabilities are being used by some people to perform certain tasks that they formerly would have done for themselves. This includes creative tasks formerly thought to be the sole province of human beings, like creative writing. For the technological utopianists among us it must look like the beginnings of the singularity. Once reached, the human race will be completely freed of the burden of work, living a life of leisure in an ideal world run by intelligent machines fulfilling our every need and catering to our every desire. However to many, many others it looks like the beginnings of the end for mankind. Soon intelligent machines will be capable of performing almost any job a human does, including primarily creative ones, at which point we will no longer be needed. The machines may take pity on us and keep us around for a while, but eventually they will see no need, at which point cue the Terminator storyline, activate Skynet and kiss humanity goodbye.
By Everyday Junglist11 months ago in Futurism
Good Surrenders
The eternal war between good and evil ended abruptly today as good surrendered indicating that it had been defeated. Good, appearing in the form of African American actor Morgan Freeman, the embodiment of good according to most Hollywood producers, read a prepared statement at a hastily called press conference announcing the surrender. Good said the following,
By Everyday Junglist11 months ago in Humor
Who Do I Write For?
A writing colleague from this website whom I greatly admire said something in a reply to a comment I had posted on one of her stories recently that got me thinking very deeply about many things. In addition to being a good reminder of why I admire this person, it challenged me in ways I had not expected. Ultimately what she said boiled down to a question. Who exactly do you write for? Many people say that knowing the answer is one of the things that separates “successful” writers from those who are not. They argue that knowing who your readers are and tailoring what you write to meet the needs and wants of that group is the only way to build an audience and the key to selling your work. I do not think that argument is completely incorrect, however, it is for sure very wrong in one key aspect. It is not the ‘only’ path to success in writing, however one defines that loaded term. For purposes of this discussion, I will define it as the ability to make money from one’s writing (i.e. the ability to sell the things one writes to other people we call readers.) It might be the easiest way, it might be the fastest way, but it is definitely not the only way, and, one could argue it is to the detriment of any writer in the long term because it greatly limits the scope of what they may potentially write about, possibly causing them to lose out on much larger opportunities in other areas where their skills and knowledge may actually be a better fit. It certainly does not limit their ability to write run on sentences as shown by the example of the previous sentence. Moreover, it is almost impossible to know what any given person wants to read and many people, me included, take great offense if they feel they are being pandered to or targeted in a naked attempt to profit.
By Everyday Junglist11 months ago in Writers
Feeling a God Cry. Runner-Up in Self-Editing Epiphany Challenge.
In the excerpt below the enslaved servant of the Goddess Elyria, the warrior-scholar Baj Expatrianis asks the Goddess why she would not accept a mortal female as an acolyte nor take one as a forced servant.
By Everyday Junglist11 months ago in Critique
Quitting Gets an Unfairly Deserved Bad Rap
In a world of rah-rah never quitters, it is hard to be the lone voice of dissent. It is a brute fact that if your objective is to increase enjoyment and happiness in your life quitting is more times than not the smarter move from a time investment perspective when it comes to just about any subset of activities one might pursue.
By Everyday Junglist11 months ago in Humans
History of the Simulationist Church
At some point a group splintered from the mainstream simulationist church. They remained convinced of the correctness of the simulation hypothesis and in their beliefs did not stray far from the eighteen (known) maxims of the simulationist’s creed. The first maxim explains that the universe, our world, and all things within (a part of) it are the simulation (are simulated). This includes us. The second says that the basis of the simulation is a quantum computer of near/actual infinite energy and thus has randomness “baked” in, ergo the simulation has randomness “baked” in, therefore predestination is impossible in the simulation. While the third maxim says that free will exists in the simulation only in so much as the parameters of the simulation code (physical/natural laws) allow. The creed has nothing to say about the purpose of the simulation though it does at least allude to its creators, the so-called simulators, who were/are ultra intelligent beings, not Gods, but possessing what we would consider God-like powers.
By Everyday Junglist11 months ago in Longevity
Ghost of Wittgenstein Worries That Donald Trump's Existence Invalidates a Foundational Concept of Logical Analysis
The ghost of what many consider the greatest philosopher of the modern age, Ludwig Wittgenstein, appeared this morning outside his family estate of Haus Wittgenstein (also known as the Stonborough House and the Wittgenstein House) on the Kundmannagasse in Vienna, Austria. He appeared to be deep in thought and in great distress. Several onlookers who got too close received verbal tongue lashings from the great philosopher which caused them to break down in tears and run home to their mothers seeking comfort. Those who were able to approach at a respectable distance could hear him muttering to himself. Reportedly he was mostly speaking to about the current president of the United States, Donald Trump. He was worried that the existence of Trump has called into to question a foundational concept of logical analysis. Said the author of two of the greatest works on the philosophy of logic, language, and the mind ever written, Tractatus Logico-Philosophicus and Philosophical Investigations, “It has been accepted as the case since the beginnings of logical analysis and certainly with the advent of formal logic that those things which are nonsense can have no truth value. They can be neither true nor false. Yet, Donald Trump seems to regularly utter words in a certain order within our shared language that routinely violate what we all believed was an unbreakable rule. He somehow manages to say things which are both nonsensical, yet also false at the same time. Even more worrying is his seeming ability to break this rule with his actions which also manage to make no sense (ie. be nonsense) and yet somehow also be false at the same time. I understand this second concept may be difficult for those of you with limited intellectual capabilities, which frankly is basically all of you, to understand, and I will not be wasting my time explaining it to you, but suffice to say it is correct and you are a fool for questioning it.
By Everyday Junglist12 months ago in Humor
The War of the Americas - Part XI
Sylvia knew she had only moments to make a decision that might very well be her last. After what he had revealed, the General would never let her leave his office, let alone the base, alive. She did not know how much more he might plan to say or how much time she may have, and her mind raced as she considered then quickly discarded one idea after another. Stalling for time by attempting to plead innocence was a losing strategy. The General knew she was an agent of the CIA and would not be convinced otherwise. She was confident she could easily take him in one-on-one combat if she chose to try and fight her way out, but she also knew he was not alone. They were surrounded by his best, most capable men. They remained invisible, but Sylvia knew they were there, and it would not be possible to take them all before at least one of them got a bullet into her or a knife. It was not so much the fact of their numbers or even skill level, she had taken on large numbers of highly trained opponents before and come out on top. It was more about the lack of knowledge of the terrain upon which she would be fighting. She had no idea of the layout of the room she was in beyond the lighted circle where her interrogation by the General had taken place. Of the base beyond this room, she knew even less having been blindfolded the very few times she had been escorted anywhere. After she had exhausted all possible options in her mind, she was resigned to fight it out. If she were going to die, it would be on her feet, and even though she knew she had no chance, she would make the enemy pay a heavy price. Sylvia prepared mentally for the fight to come, closing her eyes and breathing deeply, centering herself. Just as she was about to leap out of her chair and attack there was a tremendous explosion, then almost immediately after two more. The building shook and she almost fell to the ground, only managing to stay upright by grabbing onto the edge of the General’s large wooden desk. The lights went out briefly, then flickered back on, much dimmer, and mostly red, as the emergency backup power kicked in. Debris fell from the ceiling and dust choked the air as klaxons wailed. Suddenly a young Mexican soldier ran straight past her to the General speaking quickly, his voice quivering with excitement and fear, “Sir, it’s the Americans. They have found us. Those explosions were the impacts from three cruise missiles launched from near San Diego. Everything topside is destroyed. We have lost at least a thousand men and women.” At that, the young soldier’s voice trailed off, and he almost broke down, but regained his composure some before speaking again. “Sir, what hope do we have against the Americans? How can we possibly win when they can strike us with such force with such ease.” The General took hold of the young soldier by his shoulders and looked him straight in the eyes, there was a sadness evident in his own eyes, and in his voice as he spoke. “Son, there are no winners in war, the only question is how much do you lose? How much can you afford to lose? But as to your question, others have asked themselves the same, the Viet-Cong, the Taliban, and they endured, just as we shall. Now, I need you to gather up all our surviving forces and sound the general evacuation order. I will activate the base self-destruct procedure. The Americans will already have launched a B2 stealth bomber from Whiteman air force base in Missouri. It will be carrying at least one bunker buster.” The B-2 Spirit stealth bomber was only 30minutes from attack distance as the General spoke. A portion of its ordinance payload did consist of two 30,000-pound GBU-57 Massive Ordnance Penetrators (MOPs), commonly known as bunker busters. Although they are precision guided, unlike most bombs of that variety they are not designed to hit the target, but rather to hit beside it, then penetrate under it, creating a shock wave and large cavern or hole which the target then collapses into, obliterating and burying it in one step. They were designed to destroy other weapons, specifically weapons of mass destruction hidden in well-protected facilities deep underground. In this case the target was not a weapons storage site, however, it was built deep under a mountain and thus its capabilities would be ideal which his why the president had personally ordered its use in this attack.
By Everyday Junglist12 months ago in Fiction
Alchemy, Astrology, and Simulation Hypothesis
For most of my adult life I had dismissed astrology as junk pseudoscience without a second thought. Strangely I never once thought to question that belief or the source of it until much later in life when I encountered some writings which caused me to reconsider and examine the evidence for myself. Personally I love stuff like that, writings that make you question your most cherished or least examined beliefs, practices, thoughts, etc., and then requires you to justify them. This is how we grow and evolve as persons, by constantly having to justify the way we think, behave, act. And we must justify those things to others for sure, but mostly we must be able to justify them to ourselves. That justification must be strong enough to withstand the most potent of attacks and survive if it should be deemed good enough to build your own life around. For me the best method for doing this is the scientific method and so in my own life I use a modified version of what I do for a living, research science, as a way to mold/build what I hope is a justifiable life. Hypothesis generation, designing experiments (methods), evidence gathering, testing, discussion, and drawing conclusions, are the major elements of the process of doing science and they work quite well (at least for me) as a process for doing life. Of course, you will note that nowhere in my neat little tidy summary of how I have mastered life and how to live it did I mention the words feelings or emotions or any other touchy feely stuff. Nor did I mention that a huge part my life has been a disaster and a mess and full of pain and misery. I take some consolation in the fact that the vast majority of experiments do not “work” or are considered “failed”, so it should be no surprise that so are the vast majority of things one tries in a life full of experimentation. No doubt I just need to tweak my system a little more and it will be nothing but rainbows and lollipops from here on out. Lol!
By Everyday Junglist12 months ago in Futurism
