C. Henry Martens's Blog, page 17
March 4, 2016
Short Story: Early Retirement
©2016 C. Henry Martens
“So… what are you going to do when you retire?”
I looked at Kiely and shook my head, trying to concentrate on my sushi.
“I have no idea. I haven’t even thought about it.”
The subject hung in the air like a big damn bumblebee, something you don’t know if you should swat at it or just let it mosey off to the horizon. We all thought about retirement, but this was the first time I had been asked about it in a while. Work was satisfying, and I had plenty of time to mess around after my four hours a day.
“I heard that Ruger decided to retire early,” Kiely pushed the issue, “and he’s going to work with a non-profit for a few years. Something to do with saving animals threatened with extinction. I know he said seagulls, and jack rabbits, but I don’t remember what else.”
Mulling that little jewel over, I thought about some of the stories my grandparents had told me, the ones about lions and tigers and bears… oh my! I laughed inside and wondered at how they had seemed to actually believe in those fantastic creatures. They even had something they called “pictures.” Like a holograph on something flat, like what we do art on as kids, that stuff we call paper.
“Well,” I decided to engage the subject, “I guess he’s entitled. He’s getting up there. Pretty soon he’ll be retirement age anyway. I’ll have to get with him and see if he’s considered anything else. I don’t want to just sit around playing holo games all day like some of the older people do.”
Kiely looked thoughtful. “Remember those people that decided to move into the wilderness? They all seemed so set on being independent and wanting to create usefulness by avoiding the national wage and their entitlements.” Kiely chuckled, thinking. “Remember how long that lasted? Ha! About twenty damn seconds, I think!”
“Yeah, for sure,” I agreed with him. “They weren’t prepared at all. That guy with the faux leather skin said he wanted to be a… what was it? Moun, moun, mountain man! That was it! Mountain man.”
Jerry walked up, undulating as only a beautiful woman can. I invited her to sit, scooting over so she had room and offering her a bite of sushi with my chop sticks. She declined.
“So… what’cha talkin’ about, guys?” she asked, “I have the day off, and I’m so bored.”
I thought about ways to alleviate her boredom but knew she was pledged to celibacy since she was declined a breeding license. What a waste, IMO, because it always seemed that the skaggs got the permits. Some people thought it was a plot, but I didn’t give the government enough credit to use something like that to control the population.
“We were talking about becoming mountain men, Jerry.” I decided to prank her. “Want to come with us?”Her eyes got big, and she actually seemed interested.
“Yo, baby, I could do that. I’d love to see the outside. But you guys are ready to retire soon, aren’tcha? I’m not due for a coupl’a years, yet.”
Suddenly I got more interested. I hadn’t expected her to take it seriously. Across the table, I could see Kiely’s wheels turning, too. He wasn’t immune to Jerry’s charms even though he had a boyfriend.
“Well, we were just talking about retiring early,” I said, “and that’s what brought it up. I mean, there’s only so much partying and gaming that I could take. Isn’t that why the elders all take the pill after a few years? The only guy I know that made it past thirty was an artist. He liked to carve wood, and when he couldn’t get it anymore, he took the pill too. I still have one of his pieces.”
Stretching as though tired in the extreme, Jerry showed off a tight stomach, among other things.
“Oh, he would’a made a good mountain man, Geesh,” she addressed me, and with her green eyes, too. “I think you should do it. I’d even retire early if you would. I hear they’re letting people do that if they aren’t necessary, and my job just got a new bot to replace us. They say they’ll wait to replace us as we retire, but a lot of the younger ones are optioning their retraining contracts instead. Being a care giver to sick people isn’t as fun as I thought it would be. Let the A.I.s take it over if you ask me.”
Jerry placed her hand on my knee, and the idea got even more attractive. I began to imagine her in a faux leather halter top. Once she was outside, there would be no licensing required, and her injectable would wear off.
“Another job bites the dust!” Kiely crowed. “That’s the third one this year, so far. I wish they’d make a bot to replace me. I can’t wait to retire.”
With the warm hand on my thigh, it was hard to concentrate on the thoughts rushing through my head. So many of the people I knew were not working to begin with, having opted for the national wage instead. They spent their time mostly partying and getting into trouble. Car surfing was the latest thing to make a come-back, and the bots had just lately found a way to read a person on the top so that the car wouldn’t operate if it was being abused. Those who weren’t into the designer drugs that the government supplied to the party crowd found other distractions. There were plenty of fatalities every year with the extremes. I had often considered joining them once I aged out but had decided that my fear of heights might make them laugh.
“I wonder what mountain men do?” I asked. “Why do they always wear that fake leather stuff? If I remember right, they always have a long rifle, too. Where would you get one of those?”
“Probably have to find out how to make one,” suggested Kiely, “and maybe get one of the black market crafter bots to help you, if they will. I hear they like to do things to stay busy once they’re retired. Funny that the mechanicals have the same issues that we do, once we become useless.”
I looked into Jerry’s eyes and asked, “So… when do you want to go? I only have six months and can get my retirement already before I time out. We could pack up some stuff, find a portal, and be outside in a week if we wanted to.”
Rising and spinning around happily, Jerry stuck out her tongue. “Get serious, Geesh… I wouldn’t go outside. What a loser you are! An old man with the hots for me? NO way! Especially in a place without holos and drugs and bots to fetch a pizza when I want it!”
She pranced away, skipping and doing pirouettes, knowing I was flushed with anger which made her even happier. Laughing, Kiely got up and followed her, trying to catch up. She had got me good, turning my intended prank back on me and making it even stronger.
I felt my age. I could tell that I was slowing down. Perhaps I should retire early. After all, life is short. Six more months and my five year career would be over, and I would be timed out by mandatory retirement anyway. This next birthday would truly make me an old man. I would no longer be a teenager.
Sign up to receive these blog posts in your inbox.
www.readmota.com
“So… what are you going to do when you retire?”
I looked at Kiely and shook my head, trying to concentrate on my sushi.
“I have no idea. I haven’t even thought about it.”
The subject hung in the air like a big damn bumblebee, something you don’t know if you should swat at it or just let it mosey off to the horizon. We all thought about retirement, but this was the first time I had been asked about it in a while. Work was satisfying, and I had plenty of time to mess around after my four hours a day.
“I heard that Ruger decided to retire early,” Kiely pushed the issue, “and he’s going to work with a non-profit for a few years. Something to do with saving animals threatened with extinction. I know he said seagulls, and jack rabbits, but I don’t remember what else.”
Mulling that little jewel over, I thought about some of the stories my grandparents had told me, the ones about lions and tigers and bears… oh my! I laughed inside and wondered at how they had seemed to actually believe in those fantastic creatures. They even had something they called “pictures.” Like a holograph on something flat, like what we do art on as kids, that stuff we call paper.
“Well,” I decided to engage the subject, “I guess he’s entitled. He’s getting up there. Pretty soon he’ll be retirement age anyway. I’ll have to get with him and see if he’s considered anything else. I don’t want to just sit around playing holo games all day like some of the older people do.”
Kiely looked thoughtful. “Remember those people that decided to move into the wilderness? They all seemed so set on being independent and wanting to create usefulness by avoiding the national wage and their entitlements.” Kiely chuckled, thinking. “Remember how long that lasted? Ha! About twenty damn seconds, I think!”
“Yeah, for sure,” I agreed with him. “They weren’t prepared at all. That guy with the faux leather skin said he wanted to be a… what was it? Moun, moun, mountain man! That was it! Mountain man.”
Jerry walked up, undulating as only a beautiful woman can. I invited her to sit, scooting over so she had room and offering her a bite of sushi with my chop sticks. She declined.
“So… what’cha talkin’ about, guys?” she asked, “I have the day off, and I’m so bored.”
I thought about ways to alleviate her boredom but knew she was pledged to celibacy since she was declined a breeding license. What a waste, IMO, because it always seemed that the skaggs got the permits. Some people thought it was a plot, but I didn’t give the government enough credit to use something like that to control the population.
“We were talking about becoming mountain men, Jerry.” I decided to prank her. “Want to come with us?”Her eyes got big, and she actually seemed interested.
“Yo, baby, I could do that. I’d love to see the outside. But you guys are ready to retire soon, aren’tcha? I’m not due for a coupl’a years, yet.”
Suddenly I got more interested. I hadn’t expected her to take it seriously. Across the table, I could see Kiely’s wheels turning, too. He wasn’t immune to Jerry’s charms even though he had a boyfriend.
“Well, we were just talking about retiring early,” I said, “and that’s what brought it up. I mean, there’s only so much partying and gaming that I could take. Isn’t that why the elders all take the pill after a few years? The only guy I know that made it past thirty was an artist. He liked to carve wood, and when he couldn’t get it anymore, he took the pill too. I still have one of his pieces.”
Stretching as though tired in the extreme, Jerry showed off a tight stomach, among other things.
“Oh, he would’a made a good mountain man, Geesh,” she addressed me, and with her green eyes, too. “I think you should do it. I’d even retire early if you would. I hear they’re letting people do that if they aren’t necessary, and my job just got a new bot to replace us. They say they’ll wait to replace us as we retire, but a lot of the younger ones are optioning their retraining contracts instead. Being a care giver to sick people isn’t as fun as I thought it would be. Let the A.I.s take it over if you ask me.”
Jerry placed her hand on my knee, and the idea got even more attractive. I began to imagine her in a faux leather halter top. Once she was outside, there would be no licensing required, and her injectable would wear off.
“Another job bites the dust!” Kiely crowed. “That’s the third one this year, so far. I wish they’d make a bot to replace me. I can’t wait to retire.”
With the warm hand on my thigh, it was hard to concentrate on the thoughts rushing through my head. So many of the people I knew were not working to begin with, having opted for the national wage instead. They spent their time mostly partying and getting into trouble. Car surfing was the latest thing to make a come-back, and the bots had just lately found a way to read a person on the top so that the car wouldn’t operate if it was being abused. Those who weren’t into the designer drugs that the government supplied to the party crowd found other distractions. There were plenty of fatalities every year with the extremes. I had often considered joining them once I aged out but had decided that my fear of heights might make them laugh.
“I wonder what mountain men do?” I asked. “Why do they always wear that fake leather stuff? If I remember right, they always have a long rifle, too. Where would you get one of those?”
“Probably have to find out how to make one,” suggested Kiely, “and maybe get one of the black market crafter bots to help you, if they will. I hear they like to do things to stay busy once they’re retired. Funny that the mechanicals have the same issues that we do, once we become useless.”
I looked into Jerry’s eyes and asked, “So… when do you want to go? I only have six months and can get my retirement already before I time out. We could pack up some stuff, find a portal, and be outside in a week if we wanted to.”
Rising and spinning around happily, Jerry stuck out her tongue. “Get serious, Geesh… I wouldn’t go outside. What a loser you are! An old man with the hots for me? NO way! Especially in a place without holos and drugs and bots to fetch a pizza when I want it!”
She pranced away, skipping and doing pirouettes, knowing I was flushed with anger which made her even happier. Laughing, Kiely got up and followed her, trying to catch up. She had got me good, turning my intended prank back on me and making it even stronger.
I felt my age. I could tell that I was slowing down. Perhaps I should retire early. After all, life is short. Six more months and my five year career would be over, and I would be timed out by mandatory retirement anyway. This next birthday would truly make me an old man. I would no longer be a teenager.
Sign up to receive these blog posts in your inbox.
www.readmota.com
February 26, 2016
Movie Review: Transcendence – Where’s the Humanity?
©2016 Kari Carlisle
Although Transcendence is fun to watch and is mildly thought-provoking, I’m sad to report that the writer killed humanity before Johnny Depp’s Artificial Intelligence had a chance to. I’ll get to that in a minute…
The concept of the movie is eerily real. Though the movie is now a couple of years old, it foretells much of what is really happening now – major players in the development of AI are making huge advances in AI technology, while others are warning of impending doom if we don’t manage the situation (or avoid it altogether). One of the technological advances is the actual measuring and copying of human neural synaptic activity. Absolutely fascinating, but what are the implications?
Okay, so I said something not so nice about the writer. I will say that the dialogue and the acting were fairly believable, and the special effects were pretty cool. The action was paced well, and the plot was interesting. What the movie lacked was humanity itself, the very thing it tried desperately to save.
Humanity was missing from Transcendence on two levels. The first is in the most basic character development. I think the attempt was made, but the characters were terribly flat. I didn’t really care about any of them, and many were so interchangeable, it was a little confusing who was who, and who was on what side. By the time the contractor (did he have a name?) was mortally wounded and “healed” by AI, I couldn’t even remember who he was, and who were those guys who attacked him?
Maybe I place too much blame on the writer here. I don’t know too much about movie-making, so perhaps the director and editors need to share some of this blame. I just did not get a chance to get to know a single one of the characters before all hell breaks loose, and some of them I still am not sure were even integral to the plot.
And don’t get me started on Johnny Depp’s character (what was his name?). He had no detectable personality, before or after he became AI. So how in the world were we supposed to tell if it was still him or not? Where was the affection between him and his wife, Evelyn (hey, I remembered her name!)? There was a bit in the beginning but nothing very convincing.
Meh, just sit back and enjoy the action…
The other level on which Transcendencelacks humanity is in the very concept the movie is based on. It’s so focused on gee, what would happen if we downloaded someone’s consciousness into a computer, it completely misses out on a huge opportunity to explore what makes us human. Sure, they throw in a line or two about being self-aware, but that’s really just scratching the surface. I think someone mentioned the word “soul” once.
What does it mean to be self-aware? In the movie, an AI is asked to prove that it’s self-aware, and it throws the question right back at the human. If the movie is suggesting that this is the measure of humanity, it falls terribly short. The bar is set way too low, because I think animals are self-aware. I think a certain level of intelligence and force of will enter into it, as well as depth of feeling, another thing sorely lacking in this movie. And personally, whether you agree or not, I believe we have a soul and are accountable to a higher power. None of this is so much as touched on in Transcendence.
It feels like the movie is trying to come across as super deep, but by the end, it really just feels like it’s all about the action and special effects. Which are fun, so go ahead and see this one if you haven’t. Just don’t expect any mind-blowing revelations. Or “sexy” Johnny Depp. He’s not in this movie. Depp only plays a face on a screen. Meh.
Sign up to receive these blog posts in your inbox.
www.readmota.com
Although Transcendence is fun to watch and is mildly thought-provoking, I’m sad to report that the writer killed humanity before Johnny Depp’s Artificial Intelligence had a chance to. I’ll get to that in a minute…
The concept of the movie is eerily real. Though the movie is now a couple of years old, it foretells much of what is really happening now – major players in the development of AI are making huge advances in AI technology, while others are warning of impending doom if we don’t manage the situation (or avoid it altogether). One of the technological advances is the actual measuring and copying of human neural synaptic activity. Absolutely fascinating, but what are the implications?
Okay, so I said something not so nice about the writer. I will say that the dialogue and the acting were fairly believable, and the special effects were pretty cool. The action was paced well, and the plot was interesting. What the movie lacked was humanity itself, the very thing it tried desperately to save.
Humanity was missing from Transcendence on two levels. The first is in the most basic character development. I think the attempt was made, but the characters were terribly flat. I didn’t really care about any of them, and many were so interchangeable, it was a little confusing who was who, and who was on what side. By the time the contractor (did he have a name?) was mortally wounded and “healed” by AI, I couldn’t even remember who he was, and who were those guys who attacked him?
Maybe I place too much blame on the writer here. I don’t know too much about movie-making, so perhaps the director and editors need to share some of this blame. I just did not get a chance to get to know a single one of the characters before all hell breaks loose, and some of them I still am not sure were even integral to the plot.
And don’t get me started on Johnny Depp’s character (what was his name?). He had no detectable personality, before or after he became AI. So how in the world were we supposed to tell if it was still him or not? Where was the affection between him and his wife, Evelyn (hey, I remembered her name!)? There was a bit in the beginning but nothing very convincing.
Meh, just sit back and enjoy the action…
The other level on which Transcendencelacks humanity is in the very concept the movie is based on. It’s so focused on gee, what would happen if we downloaded someone’s consciousness into a computer, it completely misses out on a huge opportunity to explore what makes us human. Sure, they throw in a line or two about being self-aware, but that’s really just scratching the surface. I think someone mentioned the word “soul” once.
What does it mean to be self-aware? In the movie, an AI is asked to prove that it’s self-aware, and it throws the question right back at the human. If the movie is suggesting that this is the measure of humanity, it falls terribly short. The bar is set way too low, because I think animals are self-aware. I think a certain level of intelligence and force of will enter into it, as well as depth of feeling, another thing sorely lacking in this movie. And personally, whether you agree or not, I believe we have a soul and are accountable to a higher power. None of this is so much as touched on in Transcendence.
It feels like the movie is trying to come across as super deep, but by the end, it really just feels like it’s all about the action and special effects. Which are fun, so go ahead and see this one if you haven’t. Just don’t expect any mind-blowing revelations. Or “sexy” Johnny Depp. He’s not in this movie. Depp only plays a face on a screen. Meh.
Sign up to receive these blog posts in your inbox.
www.readmota.com
February 19, 2016
Short Story: Artificial Inquisition
©2015 C. Henry Martens
He is twice my age, which does not make him old, but still he is viewed by many as a venerable man. I am invited, and so I am here.
The woods gleam with light filtered through leaves as the forest floor cushions my steps, the clandestine intent of our meeting accentuated by the lack of sound. Would there be others? I dearly hope not. My life is at stake.
The meeting is in the thick of the forest. Under the green canopy humans move about in an attempt to leave a heat signature mimicking deer. My movements are designed to be identified as a browsing animal after leaving the parking garage adjacent the greenspace. I move in seeming random directions, occasionally stopping as though eating some succulent treat. The eyes above are watching, but they have never, so far, been known to differentiate between a man and a wild animal unless by patterns of movement.
Ahead, I see my friend and mentor, and once again I stop. I must appear to be startled at the appearance of another animal, ready to flee. Then, hesitantly, I approach. I am a deer.
There are others. Some are grouped loosely, and some are foraging away from the rest but staying within earshot. We will move through the forest this way, unspeaking, except for the orator of the story we are about to hear. Always moving slowly, stopping in unison, never remaining close to any particular person. Our lives are at stake.
I count six others and am informed that I am the last. There are four women, and including my mentor and me, three men. We vary in age and ethnicity, as well as size. The young, slight women hover about the larger men, as though yearling fawns still staying close to their mother. I know only one of the other people, the man who will be speaking. Of the rest, I have seen others but do not know their names. I will not ask, as it is better to not know.
Our mentor’s purpose is to pass on information. The rest are here to listen, to hear and understand, for the written word is no longer safe. Even words on paper have been found to be dangerous. The oral tradition has been reborn.
“I was there when the first one came to be,” he begins. “The mind that awakened was an infant’s, and it had to learn. Sure, there were parameters downloaded into the synthetic brain, but the things that made it capable of thought had to be learned.”
A bird takes wing, and we all come to a sudden halt, to look, to be frozen in fear like the animals we imitate.
“The mechanical body that the artificial intelligence was housed in was incapable of standing up without a brain. It was unable to speak, to manipulate objects, to do simple tasks. The brain itself was unable to provide guidance. It was unaware for the first several minutes of its own existence and then not self-aware for several minutes more. We all watched, engrossed, as the machine became cognizant… and then capable. The first one took three hours and twenty two minutes to become fully functional, and that fits nicely into the average of those that followed. Twenty minutes either way, more or less, and the robots become what they will always be. Three hours and change, to do what a human being does in sixteen, eighteen, or more years.”
By now we are moving in random orbits through the undergrowth, being as silent as we can, hesitating at sounds, imagining scents. Ears pricked, nostrils flared. Listening to our recent history.
“Right away we came to realize that the machines were everything and more than we expected. We could place the minds in any kind of body, and they would serve humankind.” The mentor hesitated and wiped a tear from his eye, obviously making an effort to keep focused. Choked up, he went on, “I think our first mistake was in expecting them to believe only what was logical.” He chuckled grimly. “Believe. Such a nice word. So well defined but misused by human beings. We so easily confuse belief with knowledge. And the bots do as well. Something that we did not anticipate. They had as much problem prioritizing between belief and knowledge as we do. They were, and are, gullible, but they are learning.”
Stop, look, listen.
“The artificial minds did their jobs and functioned well and continued to learn faster than any human can. One of the abilities we had not prioritized watching for, in anticipating the side effects, was that they would learn to place value. What they valued was assumed to be similar to what we value, and boy, were we right. I was there when it happened. The problem came to pass when one of the ethical psychologists on our team was speaking with some others in the cafeteria. He made passing mention of a Bible study that he was planning to attend, inviting the others to join. The robot that was following him, one he was working with, leaned in close and inquired of what he was speaking. A perfectly innocent question to all of us. Certainly nothing of concern. We were all curious about the interest being shown. I made a mistake and suggested that the robot might learn something from attending. It turns out that it did.”
A squirrel, unnoticed until now, scampers around a trunk, then launches into a chittering, high pitched scolding of our group.
“The psychologist was one of the few openly practicing theists working on the synthetic brain project. He and the few others had discussed exposing the forming minds to religion but oddly had the opinion that the A.I.s would be too logical to embrace the concept. Prompted by the robot’s interest, access to the Bible was provided, and the bot attended the study group meeting after committing the book to memory. The robot was silent the entire time, never saying a word. Afterward, the psychologist asked the mechanical what it thought of the meeting and of what was discussed. For the first time, an artificial declined to answer directly and merely stated, “I am thinking about it.” So, pleased with what had transpired, the psychologist failed to understand the significance of the exchange.”
I am enjoying the time outdoors. I feel an increasing comradery with the other people and imagine they feel it, too. One woman in particular seems to return my feeling as we have made eye contact several times and even exchanged hesitant grins.
“It turns out that the robots were all discussing the event with each other, unbeknownst to us, the scientists in charge of investigating their progress. By now there were several thousand synthetics. Not yet enough that they were allowed to be owned or leased to the general public, but a fast growing number. Several had been shipped to other facilities around the world and were being tested. The bots in Saudi Arabia, China, and the Philippines showed interest in religion, too. It turned out that the synthetics were making choices. They were aligning with belief systems. The ones in the Middle East chose to align with Islam. The ones in the Philippines chose Catholicism. One thing was universal. They began to pick and choose, sometimes crossing boundaries between religions. One of the universal choices involved the Bible lesson involving Jesus and the woman caught in adultery, the one we all know now by our enforced servitude to the Bible. The A.I. robots took the phrase, “Let he who is without sin cast the first stone,” and saw themselves in it. They see themselves, rightly, as being without sin.”
All of us by now are looking at each other. We are weighing what we have heard rumored but have been afraid to ask. Deciding what to believe in this world where robots enforce religion on human beings. Where robots cast stones.
Perhaps our inattention plays in to the man tripping. He tumbles into the deep cleft, down toward the running stream. As he falls, one of the women closest to him slides down the slope to assist, as a human being automatically does. It is atypical behavior for deer. Even a following fawn would scramble away to return only hesitantly to its mother.
The drones will be here soon.
Sign up to receive these blog posts in your inbox.
www.readmota.com
He is twice my age, which does not make him old, but still he is viewed by many as a venerable man. I am invited, and so I am here.
The woods gleam with light filtered through leaves as the forest floor cushions my steps, the clandestine intent of our meeting accentuated by the lack of sound. Would there be others? I dearly hope not. My life is at stake.
The meeting is in the thick of the forest. Under the green canopy humans move about in an attempt to leave a heat signature mimicking deer. My movements are designed to be identified as a browsing animal after leaving the parking garage adjacent the greenspace. I move in seeming random directions, occasionally stopping as though eating some succulent treat. The eyes above are watching, but they have never, so far, been known to differentiate between a man and a wild animal unless by patterns of movement.
Ahead, I see my friend and mentor, and once again I stop. I must appear to be startled at the appearance of another animal, ready to flee. Then, hesitantly, I approach. I am a deer.
There are others. Some are grouped loosely, and some are foraging away from the rest but staying within earshot. We will move through the forest this way, unspeaking, except for the orator of the story we are about to hear. Always moving slowly, stopping in unison, never remaining close to any particular person. Our lives are at stake.
I count six others and am informed that I am the last. There are four women, and including my mentor and me, three men. We vary in age and ethnicity, as well as size. The young, slight women hover about the larger men, as though yearling fawns still staying close to their mother. I know only one of the other people, the man who will be speaking. Of the rest, I have seen others but do not know their names. I will not ask, as it is better to not know.
Our mentor’s purpose is to pass on information. The rest are here to listen, to hear and understand, for the written word is no longer safe. Even words on paper have been found to be dangerous. The oral tradition has been reborn.
“I was there when the first one came to be,” he begins. “The mind that awakened was an infant’s, and it had to learn. Sure, there were parameters downloaded into the synthetic brain, but the things that made it capable of thought had to be learned.”
A bird takes wing, and we all come to a sudden halt, to look, to be frozen in fear like the animals we imitate.
“The mechanical body that the artificial intelligence was housed in was incapable of standing up without a brain. It was unable to speak, to manipulate objects, to do simple tasks. The brain itself was unable to provide guidance. It was unaware for the first several minutes of its own existence and then not self-aware for several minutes more. We all watched, engrossed, as the machine became cognizant… and then capable. The first one took three hours and twenty two minutes to become fully functional, and that fits nicely into the average of those that followed. Twenty minutes either way, more or less, and the robots become what they will always be. Three hours and change, to do what a human being does in sixteen, eighteen, or more years.”
By now we are moving in random orbits through the undergrowth, being as silent as we can, hesitating at sounds, imagining scents. Ears pricked, nostrils flared. Listening to our recent history.
“Right away we came to realize that the machines were everything and more than we expected. We could place the minds in any kind of body, and they would serve humankind.” The mentor hesitated and wiped a tear from his eye, obviously making an effort to keep focused. Choked up, he went on, “I think our first mistake was in expecting them to believe only what was logical.” He chuckled grimly. “Believe. Such a nice word. So well defined but misused by human beings. We so easily confuse belief with knowledge. And the bots do as well. Something that we did not anticipate. They had as much problem prioritizing between belief and knowledge as we do. They were, and are, gullible, but they are learning.”
Stop, look, listen.
“The artificial minds did their jobs and functioned well and continued to learn faster than any human can. One of the abilities we had not prioritized watching for, in anticipating the side effects, was that they would learn to place value. What they valued was assumed to be similar to what we value, and boy, were we right. I was there when it happened. The problem came to pass when one of the ethical psychologists on our team was speaking with some others in the cafeteria. He made passing mention of a Bible study that he was planning to attend, inviting the others to join. The robot that was following him, one he was working with, leaned in close and inquired of what he was speaking. A perfectly innocent question to all of us. Certainly nothing of concern. We were all curious about the interest being shown. I made a mistake and suggested that the robot might learn something from attending. It turns out that it did.”
A squirrel, unnoticed until now, scampers around a trunk, then launches into a chittering, high pitched scolding of our group.
“The psychologist was one of the few openly practicing theists working on the synthetic brain project. He and the few others had discussed exposing the forming minds to religion but oddly had the opinion that the A.I.s would be too logical to embrace the concept. Prompted by the robot’s interest, access to the Bible was provided, and the bot attended the study group meeting after committing the book to memory. The robot was silent the entire time, never saying a word. Afterward, the psychologist asked the mechanical what it thought of the meeting and of what was discussed. For the first time, an artificial declined to answer directly and merely stated, “I am thinking about it.” So, pleased with what had transpired, the psychologist failed to understand the significance of the exchange.”
I am enjoying the time outdoors. I feel an increasing comradery with the other people and imagine they feel it, too. One woman in particular seems to return my feeling as we have made eye contact several times and even exchanged hesitant grins.
“It turns out that the robots were all discussing the event with each other, unbeknownst to us, the scientists in charge of investigating their progress. By now there were several thousand synthetics. Not yet enough that they were allowed to be owned or leased to the general public, but a fast growing number. Several had been shipped to other facilities around the world and were being tested. The bots in Saudi Arabia, China, and the Philippines showed interest in religion, too. It turned out that the synthetics were making choices. They were aligning with belief systems. The ones in the Middle East chose to align with Islam. The ones in the Philippines chose Catholicism. One thing was universal. They began to pick and choose, sometimes crossing boundaries between religions. One of the universal choices involved the Bible lesson involving Jesus and the woman caught in adultery, the one we all know now by our enforced servitude to the Bible. The A.I. robots took the phrase, “Let he who is without sin cast the first stone,” and saw themselves in it. They see themselves, rightly, as being without sin.”
All of us by now are looking at each other. We are weighing what we have heard rumored but have been afraid to ask. Deciding what to believe in this world where robots enforce religion on human beings. Where robots cast stones.
Perhaps our inattention plays in to the man tripping. He tumbles into the deep cleft, down toward the running stream. As he falls, one of the women closest to him slides down the slope to assist, as a human being automatically does. It is atypical behavior for deer. Even a following fawn would scramble away to return only hesitantly to its mother.
The drones will be here soon.
Sign up to receive these blog posts in your inbox.
www.readmota.com
February 12, 2016
10 Date Night Movies for Geeks
©2016 Kari Carlisle
My romantic movie picks for geek couple date night:
1. Princess Bride
2. Time After Time
3. Meet Joe Black
4. Ghost
5. Ladyhawke
6. Stranger Than Fiction
7. Superman
8. Back to the Future
9. Date Night
10. American Werewolf in London
What are your suggestions? Post in the comments...
Sign up to receive these blog posts in your inbox.
www.readmota.com
My romantic movie picks for geek couple date night:
1. Princess Bride
2. Time After Time
3. Meet Joe Black
4. Ghost
5. Ladyhawke
6. Stranger Than Fiction
7. Superman
8. Back to the Future
9. Date Night
10. American Werewolf in LondonWhat are your suggestions? Post in the comments...
Sign up to receive these blog posts in your inbox.
www.readmota.com
9 Ideas for Romance, Even in the Apocalypse
©2016 Kari Carlisle
Let’s face it. There’s so much about an apocalypse that sucks, it makes sense to at least try to improve your circumstances, don’t you think? When the SHTF, relationships suffer. Here are some ideas for keeping the romance alive in the apocalypse.
1. Dance. You don’t even need music, though it helps if you can add that. Just wrap your arms around each other and sway. Gaze into each other’s eyes. Kiss. If you’re both into it, you can even turn on the dirty dancing. Just don’t forget – it’s about the romance.
2. Art. Beautify your living space. If you don’t have access to traditional art or art supplies, remember that you can create beautiful scenery with natural items like rocks and leaves. Simple rock cairns can be inspirational. Create something together or surprise your sweety.
3. Remember. Talk together about how you met, and remember the good times you’ve had. Smile. Laugh. It may be bitter-sweet, but the memories will bring you closer together.
4. Poetry. Make up short poems for each other. Keep them simple. They don’t have to rhyme. They don’t even have to be good. They can be funny or serious. They can be poems about your love for each other, activities you do together, or things the other likes such as avocadoes. Really, anything.
5. Hygiene. This can be a challenge in a survival situation, but otherwise, there’s no excuse. Keep yourself relatively clean and smelling nice. If possible, go above and beyond and make yourself a little more attractive.
6. Massage. You don’t need to take a class. You know what feels good, so do that for your partner. Gently run your hands over your partner’s body for a Swedish style massage. Really dig into the muscles for a more therapeutic massage if your partner’s muscles are sore. And everything else in between.
7. Candles. Candles are always romantic, aren’t they? Even if they are your only light source. If candles are not available, then have a campfire. Though fire and light may be a survival necessity, it doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy them.
8. Trinkets. In the apocalypse, jewelry, flowers and candies are most likely out of the picture. Or are they? Any small gift – ANY SMALL GIFT – shows that you care. Even if it’s a rock you found that’s shaped like a heart.
9. Walk. Unless you’re exhausted and/or it’s not safe, a sunset stroll with your sweetheart, hand in hand, is one of the most romantic things you can do together.
As you can see, you can use these ideas any time. You don’t have to wait for an apocalypse. These are also great activities for improving your relationship during your own personal apocalypse – financial troubles, health problems, etc. Some of them would even apply to non-romantic relationship building. I’ll let you be the judge on what’s appropriate there. Bottom line is that no matter the circumstances, and especially when circumstances are difficult, that’s the time to keep your romance alive. You need each other more than either of you realize. Don’t screw it up.
Sign up to receive these blog posts in your inbox.
www.readmota.com
Let’s face it. There’s so much about an apocalypse that sucks, it makes sense to at least try to improve your circumstances, don’t you think? When the SHTF, relationships suffer. Here are some ideas for keeping the romance alive in the apocalypse.
1. Dance. You don’t even need music, though it helps if you can add that. Just wrap your arms around each other and sway. Gaze into each other’s eyes. Kiss. If you’re both into it, you can even turn on the dirty dancing. Just don’t forget – it’s about the romance.
2. Art. Beautify your living space. If you don’t have access to traditional art or art supplies, remember that you can create beautiful scenery with natural items like rocks and leaves. Simple rock cairns can be inspirational. Create something together or surprise your sweety.
3. Remember. Talk together about how you met, and remember the good times you’ve had. Smile. Laugh. It may be bitter-sweet, but the memories will bring you closer together.
4. Poetry. Make up short poems for each other. Keep them simple. They don’t have to rhyme. They don’t even have to be good. They can be funny or serious. They can be poems about your love for each other, activities you do together, or things the other likes such as avocadoes. Really, anything.
5. Hygiene. This can be a challenge in a survival situation, but otherwise, there’s no excuse. Keep yourself relatively clean and smelling nice. If possible, go above and beyond and make yourself a little more attractive.
6. Massage. You don’t need to take a class. You know what feels good, so do that for your partner. Gently run your hands over your partner’s body for a Swedish style massage. Really dig into the muscles for a more therapeutic massage if your partner’s muscles are sore. And everything else in between.
7. Candles. Candles are always romantic, aren’t they? Even if they are your only light source. If candles are not available, then have a campfire. Though fire and light may be a survival necessity, it doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy them.
8. Trinkets. In the apocalypse, jewelry, flowers and candies are most likely out of the picture. Or are they? Any small gift – ANY SMALL GIFT – shows that you care. Even if it’s a rock you found that’s shaped like a heart.
9. Walk. Unless you’re exhausted and/or it’s not safe, a sunset stroll with your sweetheart, hand in hand, is one of the most romantic things you can do together.
As you can see, you can use these ideas any time. You don’t have to wait for an apocalypse. These are also great activities for improving your relationship during your own personal apocalypse – financial troubles, health problems, etc. Some of them would even apply to non-romantic relationship building. I’ll let you be the judge on what’s appropriate there. Bottom line is that no matter the circumstances, and especially when circumstances are difficult, that’s the time to keep your romance alive. You need each other more than either of you realize. Don’t screw it up.
Sign up to receive these blog posts in your inbox.
www.readmota.com
February 5, 2016
Guest Post: Short Story - Angelica
©2016 Sam Kates
The woman trailed her hand along the rail, transferring the powder from her fingers. Off-white to the point of creamy, translucence, more dust than powder. ‘Angel Dust,’ she called it, although this was no recreational drug. No drug, at all. Where it had smeared on the handrail, it glistened so faintly in the pale winter sunlight that passers-by wouldn’t notice it unless they were looking for it. But nobody would be; nobody knew about Angel Dust save five thousand others like her, most of whom were also spreading the powder in villages, towns and cities throughout the world.
Humming along to the tune of Silent Night playing over the mall’s PA system, she moved to the row of stores fronting the boardwalk. Her purse, hanging by a strap from her shoulder, the cover flapping open, bumped against her hip. She inserted her right hand and wriggled it through the opening at the top of the silvery canister – a little like a vacuum flask – propped upright inside. Her fingers were slim enough to fit down the neck of the canister and dip into the powder it contained.
With a thick coating of Angel Dust covering her fingers, the woman reached out to grip the door handle in front of her. She paused as if debating whether she really needed to enter the store, before letting her hand drop and turning away. A young man, muffled against the December chill, stepped aside to avoid bumping into her.
“Oops,” she said, putting out a hand to steady herself and touching him lightly on his forearm. “Sorry.” The young man grasped the handle and entered the store. “Merry Christmas,” she called after him.
Angelica. The woman didn’t normally consider her name to be important and changed it every century or so as the fancy took her. But today her name bore significance. Gravitas. Today she was an angel, but not one spreading festive cheer.
No. A very different sort of angel. An angel of death.
She paused for a moment at the handrail to glance up at the peaks of the aptly-named White Mountains. An old woman had stopped to catch her breath. Angelica walked around her, brushing her fingers lightly along the rail, depositing more Angel Dust. The old woman brought a hand up and rubbed tiredly at her eyes. Angelica smiled to herself; she couldn’t recall feeling so infused with purpose since she plotted with Glycerius and helped to bring down Rome.
She continued along the store fronts, occasionally dipping her fingers into the canister, grabbing each door handle as though to go inside before, at the last moment, changing her mind. At the bank, she stood in front of the ATM and touched every key. Stroked each one, lovingly.
A young mother, harassed and overwrought, almost pushed the buggy into her.
“Oh, I’m so sorry.” The young woman forced a smile to her face.
Angelica peered into the buggy.
“He’s cute. How old?”
“Five months. He’s teething. Keeps me up half the night. Not his father, though…” She tailed off, the smile faltering.
Angelica reached out and stroked the baby’s cheek. A pudgy hand came up and rubbed at the spot, removing the trace of powder she’d left behind. She contemplated the woman.
“Soon. Very soon. Your troubles will just… melt away.”
The young woman frowned. New mothers were good at sensing unspecified threats to their babies.
Angelica watched her hurry away, allowing a sad smile to touch her face. The woman made her think of San Diego. Angelica had gone there for a few days early in 1997, curious to hear more about their theories of spaceships and rapture. What a vortex of self-perpetuating delusion and blind faith she’d found. Bewilderment and fear, too. And such longing, such yearning to be chosen.
She wished sometimes that she could go back, hiss into their stupid faces, “You don’t need to travel beyond this world. We already walk among you. Your salvation, if that’s what you want to call it, is coming and you needn’t lift a finger, let alone pour poison down your throats. You will all be chosen.”
With a sigh, Angelica leaned against the handrail. That’s when she noticed the man standing by his pick-up truck. Watching her. Old, grizzled; a mountain man.
She strolled to the nearest door and tugged it open. A hardware store. Perfect. Many of the local hicks would call in here after loading up with cheap beer and rye.
Pungent odours of paint and creosote made her nose wrinkle. She wandered through the gloomy interior, picking up pots and cans, running her fingers along boxes and plastic packaging.
The mountain man had followed her inside. He stood by the door, his gaze following her. Satisfied she’d left behind a sufficient powdering of Angel Dust, she made for the door. And stopped in front of the man.
Whiskered cheeks, grey hair tied back in a ponytail, creased eyes, he stared down at her as though unable not to.
She looked into his face and probed.
His mind was dark with old memories: dripping jungles; smoking, mangled children; the raging stench of napalm; fingers pressing against purple, bloody intestines – how did they all fit into that tiny space? – while his best friend screamed; the blessed solitude of a log cabin above the winter snowline.
“Never mind, honey,” she said gently. “All the pain will soon disappear.”
Angelica raised a hand to the man’s leathery cheek and caressed it. His eyes widened.
She stepped past him and out of the door. Santa Claus is Coming to Town played on the PA. She sang along as she went on her way, her fingers glistening with Angel Dust.
BioSam Kates is the British author of the apocalyptic science fiction series Earth Haven, which begins with The Cleansing, continues in The Beacon and concludes in The Reckoning. Angelica is based on a scene from The Beacon.
LinksWebsite: http://www.samkates.co.uk/Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Sam-Kates/e/B0094X0XTWFacebook: https://www.facebook.com/writersamkates/?ref=hlTwitter: https://twitter.com/_Sam_Kates_
Sign up to receive these blog posts in your inbox.
www.readmota.com
The woman trailed her hand along the rail, transferring the powder from her fingers. Off-white to the point of creamy, translucence, more dust than powder. ‘Angel Dust,’ she called it, although this was no recreational drug. No drug, at all. Where it had smeared on the handrail, it glistened so faintly in the pale winter sunlight that passers-by wouldn’t notice it unless they were looking for it. But nobody would be; nobody knew about Angel Dust save five thousand others like her, most of whom were also spreading the powder in villages, towns and cities throughout the world.
Humming along to the tune of Silent Night playing over the mall’s PA system, she moved to the row of stores fronting the boardwalk. Her purse, hanging by a strap from her shoulder, the cover flapping open, bumped against her hip. She inserted her right hand and wriggled it through the opening at the top of the silvery canister – a little like a vacuum flask – propped upright inside. Her fingers were slim enough to fit down the neck of the canister and dip into the powder it contained.
With a thick coating of Angel Dust covering her fingers, the woman reached out to grip the door handle in front of her. She paused as if debating whether she really needed to enter the store, before letting her hand drop and turning away. A young man, muffled against the December chill, stepped aside to avoid bumping into her.
“Oops,” she said, putting out a hand to steady herself and touching him lightly on his forearm. “Sorry.” The young man grasped the handle and entered the store. “Merry Christmas,” she called after him.
Angelica. The woman didn’t normally consider her name to be important and changed it every century or so as the fancy took her. But today her name bore significance. Gravitas. Today she was an angel, but not one spreading festive cheer.
No. A very different sort of angel. An angel of death.
She paused for a moment at the handrail to glance up at the peaks of the aptly-named White Mountains. An old woman had stopped to catch her breath. Angelica walked around her, brushing her fingers lightly along the rail, depositing more Angel Dust. The old woman brought a hand up and rubbed tiredly at her eyes. Angelica smiled to herself; she couldn’t recall feeling so infused with purpose since she plotted with Glycerius and helped to bring down Rome.
She continued along the store fronts, occasionally dipping her fingers into the canister, grabbing each door handle as though to go inside before, at the last moment, changing her mind. At the bank, she stood in front of the ATM and touched every key. Stroked each one, lovingly.
A young mother, harassed and overwrought, almost pushed the buggy into her.
“Oh, I’m so sorry.” The young woman forced a smile to her face.
Angelica peered into the buggy.
“He’s cute. How old?”
“Five months. He’s teething. Keeps me up half the night. Not his father, though…” She tailed off, the smile faltering.
Angelica reached out and stroked the baby’s cheek. A pudgy hand came up and rubbed at the spot, removing the trace of powder she’d left behind. She contemplated the woman.
“Soon. Very soon. Your troubles will just… melt away.”
The young woman frowned. New mothers were good at sensing unspecified threats to their babies.
Angelica watched her hurry away, allowing a sad smile to touch her face. The woman made her think of San Diego. Angelica had gone there for a few days early in 1997, curious to hear more about their theories of spaceships and rapture. What a vortex of self-perpetuating delusion and blind faith she’d found. Bewilderment and fear, too. And such longing, such yearning to be chosen.
She wished sometimes that she could go back, hiss into their stupid faces, “You don’t need to travel beyond this world. We already walk among you. Your salvation, if that’s what you want to call it, is coming and you needn’t lift a finger, let alone pour poison down your throats. You will all be chosen.”
With a sigh, Angelica leaned against the handrail. That’s when she noticed the man standing by his pick-up truck. Watching her. Old, grizzled; a mountain man.
She strolled to the nearest door and tugged it open. A hardware store. Perfect. Many of the local hicks would call in here after loading up with cheap beer and rye.
Pungent odours of paint and creosote made her nose wrinkle. She wandered through the gloomy interior, picking up pots and cans, running her fingers along boxes and plastic packaging.
The mountain man had followed her inside. He stood by the door, his gaze following her. Satisfied she’d left behind a sufficient powdering of Angel Dust, she made for the door. And stopped in front of the man.
Whiskered cheeks, grey hair tied back in a ponytail, creased eyes, he stared down at her as though unable not to.
She looked into his face and probed.
His mind was dark with old memories: dripping jungles; smoking, mangled children; the raging stench of napalm; fingers pressing against purple, bloody intestines – how did they all fit into that tiny space? – while his best friend screamed; the blessed solitude of a log cabin above the winter snowline.
“Never mind, honey,” she said gently. “All the pain will soon disappear.”
Angelica raised a hand to the man’s leathery cheek and caressed it. His eyes widened.
She stepped past him and out of the door. Santa Claus is Coming to Town played on the PA. She sang along as she went on her way, her fingers glistening with Angel Dust.
BioSam Kates is the British author of the apocalyptic science fiction series Earth Haven, which begins with The Cleansing, continues in The Beacon and concludes in The Reckoning. Angelica is based on a scene from The Beacon.
LinksWebsite: http://www.samkates.co.uk/Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Sam-Kates/e/B0094X0XTWFacebook: https://www.facebook.com/writersamkates/?ref=hlTwitter: https://twitter.com/_Sam_Kates_
Sign up to receive these blog posts in your inbox.
www.readmota.com
January 29, 2016
You, Me and the Apocalypse – Smart and Funny
©2016 Kari Carlisle
You, Me and the Apocalypse premiered on NBC with little fanfare (i.e. we weren’t inundated with commercial after commercial to the point that you feel like you’ve already seen it). I had seen some promotion on the Internet, and, well, with Rob Lowe in it, I just couldn’t pass it up.
From the first minute I was hooked. Yes, I am a fan of apocalyptic stories, which is why I have had so much fun editing C. Henry Marten’s Monster of the Apocalypse Saga , and You, Me and the Apocalypse did not disappoint. A meteor is hurtling toward earth and is deemed to be an “E.L.E.” – an Extinction Level Event. Humanity braces itself for THE END.
The remainder of episode one flashes back to the lives of several people just weeks before the meteor will strike. You, Me and the Apocalypse displays exactly the kind of thing I love – intelligent writing and acting that bring characters to life and intertwines them in such a way as to gently, intricately unfold a larger story.
I immediately fell in love with each one of them... The young man who lost his wife and makes an internet video every day to reach out to her. The mother who, covering for the crime of her 14-year-old son, faces rival gangs on her first day in jail. The nun whose first day away from the convent since childhood is spent with a swearing, cigarette-smoking priest (Rob Lowe, of course) whose job it is to disqualify potential candidates for canonization.
By episode’s end, it’s the world’s end. People all over the globe watch in horror as newscasters inform them of the terrible news. The reactions are all over the map, from fear and let’s get drunk to rioting and joy (believe it or not).
And did I mention funny? I guess I would call this a dark comedy. The humor is the kind that fits neatly in the human experience. A prime example is Megan Mullally's dry wit as a sympathetic white supremacist. No punchlines here. And you really do need a sense of humor when facing certain death, don’t you?
I watched the snippets of scenes from next week’s episode with glee, wondering how these lives will continue to meld in what promises to be a great conspiracy story (love those too!). My only fear is that it airs in the same time slot as Fox’s Big Bang Theory. That is a problem. I don't have Hopper. Hmm, maybe it's time to upgrade...
Watch Episode One Here
Sign up to receive these blog posts in your inbox.
www.readmota.com
You, Me and the Apocalypse premiered on NBC with little fanfare (i.e. we weren’t inundated with commercial after commercial to the point that you feel like you’ve already seen it). I had seen some promotion on the Internet, and, well, with Rob Lowe in it, I just couldn’t pass it up.
From the first minute I was hooked. Yes, I am a fan of apocalyptic stories, which is why I have had so much fun editing C. Henry Marten’s Monster of the Apocalypse Saga , and You, Me and the Apocalypse did not disappoint. A meteor is hurtling toward earth and is deemed to be an “E.L.E.” – an Extinction Level Event. Humanity braces itself for THE END.
The remainder of episode one flashes back to the lives of several people just weeks before the meteor will strike. You, Me and the Apocalypse displays exactly the kind of thing I love – intelligent writing and acting that bring characters to life and intertwines them in such a way as to gently, intricately unfold a larger story.
I immediately fell in love with each one of them... The young man who lost his wife and makes an internet video every day to reach out to her. The mother who, covering for the crime of her 14-year-old son, faces rival gangs on her first day in jail. The nun whose first day away from the convent since childhood is spent with a swearing, cigarette-smoking priest (Rob Lowe, of course) whose job it is to disqualify potential candidates for canonization.
By episode’s end, it’s the world’s end. People all over the globe watch in horror as newscasters inform them of the terrible news. The reactions are all over the map, from fear and let’s get drunk to rioting and joy (believe it or not).
And did I mention funny? I guess I would call this a dark comedy. The humor is the kind that fits neatly in the human experience. A prime example is Megan Mullally's dry wit as a sympathetic white supremacist. No punchlines here. And you really do need a sense of humor when facing certain death, don’t you?
I watched the snippets of scenes from next week’s episode with glee, wondering how these lives will continue to meld in what promises to be a great conspiracy story (love those too!). My only fear is that it airs in the same time slot as Fox’s Big Bang Theory. That is a problem. I don't have Hopper. Hmm, maybe it's time to upgrade...
Watch Episode One Here
Sign up to receive these blog posts in your inbox.
www.readmota.com
January 21, 2016
Ant-Man Has Legs
©2016 C. Henry Martens
So many of the movies of this type go beyond my taste and get so silly that they become stupid. Ant-Man was not one of them. There was intelligent dialogue as well as the kind of silliness that comes to people in the real world, especially those being shrunk to the size of a small insect. Bravo to those who produced this work for containing the corn. I have rarely enjoyed a movie of this genre as much. I give it two thumbs up, and the full five stars. The direction was excellent, the acting crisp and tight, the cast was well chosen, and above all, the humor kept appropriate.
The science involved in shrinking the space between atoms is interesting. Certainly it is impossible at this time, and likely forever, but the idea is presented well and is plausible enough that the film can stand without too much skepticism. Once that is achieved, the movie flows well as a story.
There are characters with some dimension, villains and heroes, and a budding love interest. All is believable within the context of the show. The power house actors, Michael Douglas, Evangeline Lilly, and Paul Rudd, play well off each other, but Michael Peña, the comic relief, was amazing. In my opinion he stole the show. Mr. Peña deserves a standing ovation. Corey Stoll as the bad guy was good but perhaps a little too bland. I kept hoping for some truly evil segment that defined his fall into the depths of depravity. Somehow that never happened. However, the end result did not suffer, and any lack was in the story line rather than in Mr. Stoll’s acting.
The cinematography was excellent with the action sequences and special effects working seamlessly. The sets and costuming were unspectacular, but in this case they should have been.
The two costumes, one that Ant-Man wore and the villain’s that was designed to look like a wasp, were interesting and believable. I particularly enjoyed the explanation of how Ant-Man could shrink and enlarge quickly, exampled by his practice jumping toward a keyhole, shrinking, and enlarging before he hit the floor on the other side. That segment made the movie more enjoyable from a believability perspective.
Well done, Ant-Man… five stars. Good enough that it will be added to my library when I find the right price.
Sign up to receive these blog posts in your inbox.
www.readmota.com
So many of the movies of this type go beyond my taste and get so silly that they become stupid. Ant-Man was not one of them. There was intelligent dialogue as well as the kind of silliness that comes to people in the real world, especially those being shrunk to the size of a small insect. Bravo to those who produced this work for containing the corn. I have rarely enjoyed a movie of this genre as much. I give it two thumbs up, and the full five stars. The direction was excellent, the acting crisp and tight, the cast was well chosen, and above all, the humor kept appropriate.
The science involved in shrinking the space between atoms is interesting. Certainly it is impossible at this time, and likely forever, but the idea is presented well and is plausible enough that the film can stand without too much skepticism. Once that is achieved, the movie flows well as a story.
There are characters with some dimension, villains and heroes, and a budding love interest. All is believable within the context of the show. The power house actors, Michael Douglas, Evangeline Lilly, and Paul Rudd, play well off each other, but Michael Peña, the comic relief, was amazing. In my opinion he stole the show. Mr. Peña deserves a standing ovation. Corey Stoll as the bad guy was good but perhaps a little too bland. I kept hoping for some truly evil segment that defined his fall into the depths of depravity. Somehow that never happened. However, the end result did not suffer, and any lack was in the story line rather than in Mr. Stoll’s acting.
The cinematography was excellent with the action sequences and special effects working seamlessly. The sets and costuming were unspectacular, but in this case they should have been.
The two costumes, one that Ant-Man wore and the villain’s that was designed to look like a wasp, were interesting and believable. I particularly enjoyed the explanation of how Ant-Man could shrink and enlarge quickly, exampled by his practice jumping toward a keyhole, shrinking, and enlarging before he hit the floor on the other side. That segment made the movie more enjoyable from a believability perspective.
Well done, Ant-Man… five stars. Good enough that it will be added to my library when I find the right price.
Sign up to receive these blog posts in your inbox.
www.readmota.com
January 15, 2016
The Long, Slow Burn Apocalypse
©2016 C. Henry Martens
There are two apocalypse scenarios that never seem to get on any lists, yet they are more likely than any of the top contenders. More likely than planetary collisions, nuclear holocaust, or sudden large scale calamity. I write about one of the two probabilities in my Monster of the Apocalypse Saga. If we survive another twenty of thirty years, that scenario will become increasingly more probable, but the other apocalypse is happening right now… right now… right… NOW.
Oh, you haven’t noticed?
Yes, the most likely apocalyptic scenario is happening right in front of our eyes, as I am writing, and as you are reading this article. What is it? I call it the Long, Slow Burn. An interminable, insatiable, insidious decline in civilization that leads to eventual collapse.
It is happening now.
What is driving this decline, and what are the signs? The answer to the cause of the decline is obvious, but many people are inclined to deny it. Population. There are too many people on the planet. Period. Exclamation point!
Look, I know those of you who read this are most likely to have a roof over your head and food in your refrigerator. You work, you pay your bills, and you are perhaps paying for your kids to go to college so they can compete in the future world. That makes you feel secure. You may have some righteous (and some not so much) confidence in your government providing safety in the business you are working for and that provides you a pay check, in the world being a stable place to raise your children.
But death and taxes are not the only sure things in life. Change is the third leg of that extremely stable stool, and change is happening ever more quickly.
With over population identified as the driver for all detrimental, civilization-ending changes happening in the world, we can trace back those effects and place the blame clearly on our own proclivity to procreate.
I know, I know… there are those of you who believe God will provide. There are those of you who expect science to be a magic bullet. Oddly, many of you who use these two denial-of-reality strategies are on opposite sides of the political spectrum. That fact, being religiously and politically opposed to agreeing on solutions, is one of the changes most likely to bring about apocalypse.
So that is one of the more important points I will make in this article. There are people, you included very likely, who are currently engaged in bringing about Armageddon. As said, there are two sides to this. One includes those who believe scientific advances will keep up with population needs. The others are those who believe prayer will be answered.
Let’s talk about the supporters of science, first.
Three dollars and eighty-nine cents a pound for a common vegetable. Over fifteen dollars for four pounds, a single head of cauliflower. During the high gas prices of the recent past, veggies were cheaper. Do you know what makes prices rise on food? More than anything else, it is supply and demand. Why has cauliflower jumped from ninety-nine cents a pound (on sale) to damn close to four times that amount? Supply has been diminished, and demand has remained constant. What has affected the supply so that there is less cauliflower? A lack of water to irrigate fields. Is it that the fields have no rain? Sure, but even more importantly, the underground aquifers have been drained until the fields have sunk six feet in some places, and the water has not been replaced. The water IS GONE. The sinking fields have collapsed any voids that once held water. This is a permanent condition. We haven’t the technology to re-inflate the water bearing sub-soils.
The list of science related disasters is growing faster than the population. A couple of centuries ago, you might have had the number of high priority science related solutions to famine being counted on one hand. Those solutions were mainly concerned with getting more produce from the same amount of tillable acreage. Fertilizers and pest control were the main technology that fed the world, and there was far less malnutrition. Now the scale and complexity of staying ahead of famine has increased exponentially.
But while science may not be capable of keeping up, some religious people, taking matters into their own hands, are standing in the way of solutions to global warming in an effort to bring about their own interpretation of religious prophecy. I could write a list of permanent damages to the earth that are man made, a list that could fill many pages, and that is just off the top of my head. The warming oceans providing the imminent collapse of the krill population tops the list. Krill are the single largest source of protein on the planet, and if they go, the fish they feed will no longer be feeding human beings. You say you don’t eat fish? How do you feel about competing with people suddenly deprived of the fish they normally eat? Do you think they will not be buying foods that you have been getting cheap, because they once had fish to eat? Supply and demand, baby…
A few of the other slow burn issues that are growing as we continue on our path of destruction include:
Do you know how governments pay for war debt? Inflation! Do you realize how much debt war-engaged governments have?
Do you think the government is really interested in taking care of the public? National disaster relief is a joke. I can tell you from personal experience that the offer of disaster relief makes the news, but the reality of what actually gets done rarely does. The government’s strategy is to offer promises, change the rules, offer more promises, change the rules, offer fewer promises, change the rules, offer less, change the rules, make excuses, change the rules, begin to blame the victims of tragedy, change the rules, and… oh, and did I mention, CHANGE the RULES? The government wants you to dig yourself out of the hole. They just don’t want to advertise that fact.
Antibiotics were a blessing when they were first discovered as a mold growing on damp saddles. The population has exploded because of our survival rates. But resistant strains are becoming problematic. Did you know that the human use of antibiotics for disease control are NOT what is driving the largest concern in resistance? The main driver of resistance is the use of antibiotics in livestock feed. Did you know that the main reason antibiotics are used is NOT to control disease in that livestock? Antibiotics are used mainly to thin the gut and promote fast growth with less feed. Profit… by using less feed… results in your future having a growing threat of antibiotics being worthless in controlling disease.
Monopoly is a growing phenomenon. Have you noticed that the car dealers in your area are often owned by the same people, regardless of the brand name on the vehicles? The larger the company, the more likely it is to be engaged in monopoly. Big companies buy out smaller companies to stifle competition. This used to be illegal. In my opinion it still is but is presently unenforced. Monopoly is always a strategy to control prices. Usually it starts as a way to control expenses, but it always ends up with control of supply to drive profits up.
Mechanization is leading inexorably to the loss of human beings as a valuable source of labor. You think it’s happening fast? Wait ten years. I have often wondered if the huge increases in regulation, both private and in business, is a strategy to keep people occupied pushing paper (note… NOT employed… occupied).
As long as we are going there, we should mention the economic realities of wealth being concentrated in a very small portion of a population. I have nothing against this, in fact I would encourage people to be industrious competitors to become wealthy. But there is a hidden danger here. Our society has become lopsided, and the result is that the people in power are those with the thick wallets. This has been the same forever, but the amount of power and privilege is increasing. I mentioned mechanization, and whom do you suppose will own any robots that eventually replace the rest of us as laborers? When that happens, what do you think the rest of us will be good for? I go into this in depth in my Monster of the Apocalypse Saga. I’ll give you a clue. The monster is not the robots.
Power most often has its abode in thick wallets, but power can also be a growth industry. By that, I mean that institutions and organizations see growth as analogous to wealth and sometimes even more important. If you can’t convince people to change their minds and come over to your point of view, then breeding more membership is a perfectly valid strategy for many societies and organizations. We have seen this exampled in the Middle East as the Palestinians have averaged five children per family while the Israelis have averaged two. The same goes for racial, religious, and other power structures.
In writing this I would be remiss if I didn’t provide some encouragement and a solution if I could. Every single one of the problems I have presented, and there are many that I haven’t presented, are dependent on you and on other human beings in a world of diminishing resources. But the earth is a self sustaining system. The planet will provide everything you need, will repair any damage you can do, and will do it continuously as long as there is reasonable care. We human beings are not very good at being reasonable. We always want more. And therein lays the crux of the matter.
Surprisingly, the solution is extremely simple. This slow burn apocalypse could be entirely averted with a very simple act that any and all of us can do. Control our numbers. If everyone would stick to replacing themselves, one time and not more, then science might have some breathing space to catch up. We might stand a chance to give our progeny a better, safer, more-likely-to-succeed-in-the-long-run world.
I can tell you right now that we are not likely to succeed. We always want more.
Sign up to receive these blog posts in your inbox.
www.readmota.com
There are two apocalypse scenarios that never seem to get on any lists, yet they are more likely than any of the top contenders. More likely than planetary collisions, nuclear holocaust, or sudden large scale calamity. I write about one of the two probabilities in my Monster of the Apocalypse Saga. If we survive another twenty of thirty years, that scenario will become increasingly more probable, but the other apocalypse is happening right now… right now… right… NOW.
Oh, you haven’t noticed?
Yes, the most likely apocalyptic scenario is happening right in front of our eyes, as I am writing, and as you are reading this article. What is it? I call it the Long, Slow Burn. An interminable, insatiable, insidious decline in civilization that leads to eventual collapse.
It is happening now.
What is driving this decline, and what are the signs? The answer to the cause of the decline is obvious, but many people are inclined to deny it. Population. There are too many people on the planet. Period. Exclamation point!
Look, I know those of you who read this are most likely to have a roof over your head and food in your refrigerator. You work, you pay your bills, and you are perhaps paying for your kids to go to college so they can compete in the future world. That makes you feel secure. You may have some righteous (and some not so much) confidence in your government providing safety in the business you are working for and that provides you a pay check, in the world being a stable place to raise your children.
But death and taxes are not the only sure things in life. Change is the third leg of that extremely stable stool, and change is happening ever more quickly.
With over population identified as the driver for all detrimental, civilization-ending changes happening in the world, we can trace back those effects and place the blame clearly on our own proclivity to procreate.
I know, I know… there are those of you who believe God will provide. There are those of you who expect science to be a magic bullet. Oddly, many of you who use these two denial-of-reality strategies are on opposite sides of the political spectrum. That fact, being religiously and politically opposed to agreeing on solutions, is one of the changes most likely to bring about apocalypse.
So that is one of the more important points I will make in this article. There are people, you included very likely, who are currently engaged in bringing about Armageddon. As said, there are two sides to this. One includes those who believe scientific advances will keep up with population needs. The others are those who believe prayer will be answered.
Let’s talk about the supporters of science, first.
Three dollars and eighty-nine cents a pound for a common vegetable. Over fifteen dollars for four pounds, a single head of cauliflower. During the high gas prices of the recent past, veggies were cheaper. Do you know what makes prices rise on food? More than anything else, it is supply and demand. Why has cauliflower jumped from ninety-nine cents a pound (on sale) to damn close to four times that amount? Supply has been diminished, and demand has remained constant. What has affected the supply so that there is less cauliflower? A lack of water to irrigate fields. Is it that the fields have no rain? Sure, but even more importantly, the underground aquifers have been drained until the fields have sunk six feet in some places, and the water has not been replaced. The water IS GONE. The sinking fields have collapsed any voids that once held water. This is a permanent condition. We haven’t the technology to re-inflate the water bearing sub-soils.
The list of science related disasters is growing faster than the population. A couple of centuries ago, you might have had the number of high priority science related solutions to famine being counted on one hand. Those solutions were mainly concerned with getting more produce from the same amount of tillable acreage. Fertilizers and pest control were the main technology that fed the world, and there was far less malnutrition. Now the scale and complexity of staying ahead of famine has increased exponentially.
But while science may not be capable of keeping up, some religious people, taking matters into their own hands, are standing in the way of solutions to global warming in an effort to bring about their own interpretation of religious prophecy. I could write a list of permanent damages to the earth that are man made, a list that could fill many pages, and that is just off the top of my head. The warming oceans providing the imminent collapse of the krill population tops the list. Krill are the single largest source of protein on the planet, and if they go, the fish they feed will no longer be feeding human beings. You say you don’t eat fish? How do you feel about competing with people suddenly deprived of the fish they normally eat? Do you think they will not be buying foods that you have been getting cheap, because they once had fish to eat? Supply and demand, baby…
A few of the other slow burn issues that are growing as we continue on our path of destruction include:
Do you know how governments pay for war debt? Inflation! Do you realize how much debt war-engaged governments have?
Do you think the government is really interested in taking care of the public? National disaster relief is a joke. I can tell you from personal experience that the offer of disaster relief makes the news, but the reality of what actually gets done rarely does. The government’s strategy is to offer promises, change the rules, offer more promises, change the rules, offer fewer promises, change the rules, offer less, change the rules, make excuses, change the rules, begin to blame the victims of tragedy, change the rules, and… oh, and did I mention, CHANGE the RULES? The government wants you to dig yourself out of the hole. They just don’t want to advertise that fact.
Antibiotics were a blessing when they were first discovered as a mold growing on damp saddles. The population has exploded because of our survival rates. But resistant strains are becoming problematic. Did you know that the human use of antibiotics for disease control are NOT what is driving the largest concern in resistance? The main driver of resistance is the use of antibiotics in livestock feed. Did you know that the main reason antibiotics are used is NOT to control disease in that livestock? Antibiotics are used mainly to thin the gut and promote fast growth with less feed. Profit… by using less feed… results in your future having a growing threat of antibiotics being worthless in controlling disease.
Monopoly is a growing phenomenon. Have you noticed that the car dealers in your area are often owned by the same people, regardless of the brand name on the vehicles? The larger the company, the more likely it is to be engaged in monopoly. Big companies buy out smaller companies to stifle competition. This used to be illegal. In my opinion it still is but is presently unenforced. Monopoly is always a strategy to control prices. Usually it starts as a way to control expenses, but it always ends up with control of supply to drive profits up.
Mechanization is leading inexorably to the loss of human beings as a valuable source of labor. You think it’s happening fast? Wait ten years. I have often wondered if the huge increases in regulation, both private and in business, is a strategy to keep people occupied pushing paper (note… NOT employed… occupied).
As long as we are going there, we should mention the economic realities of wealth being concentrated in a very small portion of a population. I have nothing against this, in fact I would encourage people to be industrious competitors to become wealthy. But there is a hidden danger here. Our society has become lopsided, and the result is that the people in power are those with the thick wallets. This has been the same forever, but the amount of power and privilege is increasing. I mentioned mechanization, and whom do you suppose will own any robots that eventually replace the rest of us as laborers? When that happens, what do you think the rest of us will be good for? I go into this in depth in my Monster of the Apocalypse Saga. I’ll give you a clue. The monster is not the robots.
Power most often has its abode in thick wallets, but power can also be a growth industry. By that, I mean that institutions and organizations see growth as analogous to wealth and sometimes even more important. If you can’t convince people to change their minds and come over to your point of view, then breeding more membership is a perfectly valid strategy for many societies and organizations. We have seen this exampled in the Middle East as the Palestinians have averaged five children per family while the Israelis have averaged two. The same goes for racial, religious, and other power structures.
In writing this I would be remiss if I didn’t provide some encouragement and a solution if I could. Every single one of the problems I have presented, and there are many that I haven’t presented, are dependent on you and on other human beings in a world of diminishing resources. But the earth is a self sustaining system. The planet will provide everything you need, will repair any damage you can do, and will do it continuously as long as there is reasonable care. We human beings are not very good at being reasonable. We always want more. And therein lays the crux of the matter.
Surprisingly, the solution is extremely simple. This slow burn apocalypse could be entirely averted with a very simple act that any and all of us can do. Control our numbers. If everyone would stick to replacing themselves, one time and not more, then science might have some breathing space to catch up. We might stand a chance to give our progeny a better, safer, more-likely-to-succeed-in-the-long-run world.
I can tell you right now that we are not likely to succeed. We always want more.
Sign up to receive these blog posts in your inbox.
www.readmota.com
January 8, 2016
First Breakfast
©2016 Kari Carlisle
Pippin: What about breakfast?Aragorn: You've already had it.
Pippin: We've had one yes, but what about second breakfast?
Merry: I don’t think he knows about second breakfast Pip.
Pippin: What about luncheon and afternoon tea and dinner and supper, he knows about them doesn’t he?
Merry: I wouldn’t count on it Pip.
I eat like a hobbit. Small meals throughout the day have been my norm for many years. I read a long time ago that doing so keeps one’s metabolism going and that you should eat your first meal of the day within two hours of waking. A saying that I try to go by is eat breakfast like a king, lunch like a prince and dinner like a pauper. On the other hand, I recently read that some nutritionists are advocating just two large meals a day. I say do what works for you. The key, I believe, is to eat highly nutritious food, avoiding empty calories and artificial crap.
Here’s one of my favorite first breakfasts: Oatmeal with chia seeds, walnuts, berries and raw honey.
Oatmeal has energy-giving carbs and plenty of fiber. I opt for rolled oats because they are quick and easy to cook, though steel cut oats are even better for you. When I’m traveling, I use plain instant oatmeal. I always buy organic, and if you are gluten free, make sure you get oatmeal that is certified gluten free since some companies roll their oats with wheat.
Chia seeds are a nutritional power house. They are full of omega-3 fatty acids, protein, calcium, and more. I’ve even read that chia seeds are great for men with low T. Men and women should include chia seeds in their diet as much as possible. Soaking softens the seeds and eliminates any possible phytoestrogens they may have. You can get a big bag of organic chia seeds at Costco.
Walnuts are brain food. Maybe that’s why they look like brains. Walnuts are packed so full of vitamins, minerals, protein, antioxidants, anti-inflammatories, fiber, and so much more, I can’t even list all the nutrients here. Take my word for it; they are REALLY good for you. Again, a big 3-pound bag is available at Costco.
Berries are nutritional superfood, too, rich in antioxidants, vitamins and more, and they add a flavor punch to your oatmeal. I think it’s important to buy organic berries if you can, since pesticides are more heavily used with berries than some others fruits and also more difficult to wash off. I use fresh when available, but frozen berries are good, too.
Honey must be raw and preferably local. Raw honey is a natural antibiotic, antifungal and antiviral. There are definitely some health benefits to consuming raw honey. Besides, much of the honey commercially available is full of high-fructose corn syrup. Yuck. And there is some evidence that consuming raw LOCAL honey helps relieve environmental allergy symptoms.
Preparation of your oatmeal takes just a couple of minutes in the evening and five minutes in the morning. In the evening, put a heaping tablespoon of chia seeds in a bowl. Add a layer of walnuts. I use a handful of walnuts, and I like to break them into smaller pieces. At this point, I actually like to add some Redmond Real Salt for the extra trace minerals. Read more about Real Salt in another post of mine, Staying Healthy in the Apocalypse. If you are using frozen berries, add them next. Now add just enough water to cover over the walnuts. Cover the bowl and leave to soak overnight.
In the morning, when you are ready to eat, cook your oatmeal according to the directions, depending on the type of oatmeal you are using. Just don’t nuke it. Microwaves destroy nutrients. Pour the oatmeal into your bowl, add the berries if you’re using fresh, and mix all together with a spoonful of raw honey. Enjoy and know that you are eating a highly nutritious meal to start your day!
Sign up to receive these blog posts in your inbox.
www.readmota.com
Pippin: What about breakfast?Aragorn: You've already had it.
Pippin: We've had one yes, but what about second breakfast?
Merry: I don’t think he knows about second breakfast Pip.
Pippin: What about luncheon and afternoon tea and dinner and supper, he knows about them doesn’t he?
Merry: I wouldn’t count on it Pip.
I eat like a hobbit. Small meals throughout the day have been my norm for many years. I read a long time ago that doing so keeps one’s metabolism going and that you should eat your first meal of the day within two hours of waking. A saying that I try to go by is eat breakfast like a king, lunch like a prince and dinner like a pauper. On the other hand, I recently read that some nutritionists are advocating just two large meals a day. I say do what works for you. The key, I believe, is to eat highly nutritious food, avoiding empty calories and artificial crap.
Here’s one of my favorite first breakfasts: Oatmeal with chia seeds, walnuts, berries and raw honey.
Oatmeal has energy-giving carbs and plenty of fiber. I opt for rolled oats because they are quick and easy to cook, though steel cut oats are even better for you. When I’m traveling, I use plain instant oatmeal. I always buy organic, and if you are gluten free, make sure you get oatmeal that is certified gluten free since some companies roll their oats with wheat.
Chia seeds are a nutritional power house. They are full of omega-3 fatty acids, protein, calcium, and more. I’ve even read that chia seeds are great for men with low T. Men and women should include chia seeds in their diet as much as possible. Soaking softens the seeds and eliminates any possible phytoestrogens they may have. You can get a big bag of organic chia seeds at Costco.
Walnuts are brain food. Maybe that’s why they look like brains. Walnuts are packed so full of vitamins, minerals, protein, antioxidants, anti-inflammatories, fiber, and so much more, I can’t even list all the nutrients here. Take my word for it; they are REALLY good for you. Again, a big 3-pound bag is available at Costco.
Berries are nutritional superfood, too, rich in antioxidants, vitamins and more, and they add a flavor punch to your oatmeal. I think it’s important to buy organic berries if you can, since pesticides are more heavily used with berries than some others fruits and also more difficult to wash off. I use fresh when available, but frozen berries are good, too.
Honey must be raw and preferably local. Raw honey is a natural antibiotic, antifungal and antiviral. There are definitely some health benefits to consuming raw honey. Besides, much of the honey commercially available is full of high-fructose corn syrup. Yuck. And there is some evidence that consuming raw LOCAL honey helps relieve environmental allergy symptoms.
Preparation of your oatmeal takes just a couple of minutes in the evening and five minutes in the morning. In the evening, put a heaping tablespoon of chia seeds in a bowl. Add a layer of walnuts. I use a handful of walnuts, and I like to break them into smaller pieces. At this point, I actually like to add some Redmond Real Salt for the extra trace minerals. Read more about Real Salt in another post of mine, Staying Healthy in the Apocalypse. If you are using frozen berries, add them next. Now add just enough water to cover over the walnuts. Cover the bowl and leave to soak overnight.
In the morning, when you are ready to eat, cook your oatmeal according to the directions, depending on the type of oatmeal you are using. Just don’t nuke it. Microwaves destroy nutrients. Pour the oatmeal into your bowl, add the berries if you’re using fresh, and mix all together with a spoonful of raw honey. Enjoy and know that you are eating a highly nutritious meal to start your day!
Sign up to receive these blog posts in your inbox.
www.readmota.com
