Self Automs- a Short Story of Self Ownership
by Ivo Fisic
On the morning of the 4th day of the prenascent month of the 3rd year of the 3rd current epoch, Vispo a la Tella of the Burdanze Cluster, entered this thoprint into the DiLex.
Root. Firm. Hell. Peace. Resolve.
For those who are aware of the full story of Vispo a la Tella of the Burdanze Cluster, I have no doubt you understood, if you hadn’t already been exposed to this thoprint already, the ramifications of this thoprint on the rest of the human experience.
For those who have not heard this tale, relax, for the wazex is connected to the formulator, the data is being flung.
For those who suffer from loghtainment, we have provided this textual, linguistically-limited data fling. The full nuances, ranges, expressions, evidences, footnotes, etc, cannot, of course be contained within this particular data fling. We encourage you to peruse the accompanying data flings if you wish to approach the depth of the data fling available to the non-loghotained.
Vispo a la Tella of the Burdanze Cluster was considered by most of colleagues to be the preeminent authority on the then newly emerged science of Selfautom, a term bequeathed upon it by the cineteque “A Hard Home for God.”
The story revolved around a man named Cron who had been working on a series of ever-increasingly complex biofeedback drills intended to bring more of his self-aware governor into control over elements of the body now controlled by what Cron termed nerve brains, nerve brains governed by the more archaic, and, primarily, temporally, part of self that defines preference.
To put in visceral terms, Cron wanted to more directly control all parts of his body, especially the parts that told the body to produce chemicals, to fight cells, to leave cells alone, etc. The movie was credited by Vispo a la Tella of the Burdanze Cluster as the direct inspiration for beginning his own work that would eventually be referred to as Selfautom by cultural commentators, the term used by Cron for his biofeedback exercises.
“The Selfautoms of this cycle have managed to strip away the last vestige of personal association. What remains to be seen is, in the end, if the self-governed has any practical need for personal associations. So far, despite my intellectual aspirations to find practical use for personal association, I have yet to connect the visceral exchange within me that usually accompanies such efforts.”
That quote was part of the last thoprint entered by Vispo a la Tella of the Burdanze Cluster before the one that changed the course of the human experience. Vispo was expressing the stereoptyical nihilistic dilemma of near-absolute deconstruction of the constructs around you that are, in the end, despite their sometimes rooted practical initiations, subjective houses of cards that, even if you find practical valuation in holding onto these houses of cards, find, internally, you simply cannot.
You are left with nothing. And you are incapable of striking up the band within to rally to the jingoistic fury one somehow requires to engage in the blood and sweat required for commitments to personal associations.
But the next day, so Vispo claimed, he achieved his goal, or, as he expressed it, “I came as close as I believe any human, in our current biological configuration, ever has to achieving total autonomy, total self-aware autonomy over the entirety of all of the key systems that govern who I am, from intestines to synapses.”
And now, here is the last thoprint Vispo a la Tella of the Burdanze Cluster entered before he revealed his discovery to the world.
Thoprint – 3-c-3-12-BUR-VTa
After the final fury, I became aware of the fullness, or at least the imagined fullness (for I could ‘feel’ the networks just outside my purview) of the synaptic discourse within and without, that is, from the cranium to the nerve brains of my toes.
Much as I expected, I was filled with overwhelming nausea, similar to the type of nausea I experienced the first time I saw the ocean. But this time, unlike the ocean, I was able to immediately track down which chemicals were triggering this reaction, and which nerve brains were producing this result.
The effort to ‘seize’ control was not great. I could not describe it as an effort at all. This was not sleuth work, It was known. It was remedied. The ‘language’ we spoke, me and myself, if you will, was not, is not, in the least bit, structured as we structure language today.
This language has no words, only what I can describe in this limited form as energies, changes in temperature, really, around clusters. The internal dialogue invades all personal data, yet leaves all parties unaware of the particular entity they discoursed with.
The particularly, at first, unsettling part of this was the awareness of the part of the side of the conversation that was yet still not governed by my self-aware self. There was still….something beyond my ‘sovereignty,’ if you will.
Yet, despite my inability to access this ‘void’ (which is the visceral sense of the experience), I still sensed, and know, that the void was yet following my direction. I could not see this presence, define it, or understand it, but yet, like water, I could, with ease, direct its flow with ‘rudder’ manipulations.
As for the nerve brains, I came to know not a single one, yet could fully contain every minuscule detail about any nerve brain I found myself ‘conversing’ with. Yet, as stated earlier, as soon as the conversation ended, my sense of the personal identification and connection with that particular nerve brain was gone.
I could, for instance, be ‘talking’ to the same nerve brain over and over and over again and not even realize it.
But, like the void described earlier, though I did not have access to the personal regarding the nerve brains, my ability to master their actions to my ends was, well, strangely, sadly disappointing.
This feeling of sadness, this disappointment, was quickly explored for its practical applications. In the course of what may well be nanoseconds, I had internally effectively “written” volumes and conducted multiple complex mathematical models (though the internal version of ‘math,’ much like language, is radically different than the traditional constructs called ‘math’) that determined the overall benefit and harm, within my framework of short, mid, and long term preferences, and immediately produced a result that ‘told me’ to allow myself to ‘enjoy’ my sadness for a period of time not to exceed 10 minutes. And so the timer was set, and forgotten. I had no concern to worry about the time as I had full faith that the internal machine I had built (which is how I imagined creating algorithms that set up timed cycles for the production of chemicals needed to produce ‘sad’) would run its course without the need for master to guide it.
This moment was essential to me in overcoming my inability only yesterday to rouse up the band, so to speak. I could now make myself almost anything I wanted. What remained to be seen was this, were there preferences I could change, capriciously, and ‘feel’ fully committed to rallying around ‘naturally,’ ‘organically.’
I expected a terribly long journey as I moved closer and closer to the goal, sure I could never fully achieve it. What I could not know was, at my core, I have discovered, in less than a nanosecond, that this experiment was not, could not, ever be successful in our current physical configuration.
There exists within us elements that are ‘hard structured.’ These ‘hard structured’ elements are not found in any one location, but rather, they exist within cells and even among cells. Well, I cannot describe what they are as existence, but rather some on-off ripple effect between the gaps, as it were.
But ripple effects that are sentient essences, essences that have their own agendas, agendas you cannot override and long live (which supposes you can override the essence, a feat I am not willing to rule out, but, at present, I offer little hope will ever be achieved in our current biological expression) seem to control a few primal drives, but I am not confident in my assurance that the primal drives my ripples seem to control are the same types of primal drives that others’ ripples control.
For this reason, I have chosen, for now, not to reveal all of the core drives I identified (there were five in total), outside of the one I believe most confident will turn out to be a near-universal shared experience for all who go through these Selfautoms.
The most essential core driver for myself that I have accessed is the preference to be of note, what I had previously referred to as the drive to be myth, to be legend. This core driver turned out to be one of those collections of ripples throughout the body I could never fully contain, though I was, and am, able to manage to some degree the flow (with some moderate outbursts of the unexpected).
The self-myth-maker may very well turn out to be one of a handful of core drivers we are, as of now, in our present biological expression, near-universally sharing. The inability to access this core driver makes sense as I became aware of the ripple structures within the body that, it turns out, are the most demanding for those chemical rewards the body derives from some form of perception of self as self wishes to be, which, my friends, is largely still in the hands, the metaphorical hands, of the ripples.
What I came to understand was that there, are, two core rewards the self seeks, control and surprise. The self seeks to be challenged to build, to rebuild, to overcome, to originate, to sustain, while also seeking to stabilize, secure, achieve god status, make the self a heroic eternal demigod in an epic tale of wonder and awe.
The self is incapable of satisfying entirely one ripple or the other (which, it turns out, is actually one ripple, the myth-builder ripple, with a dialectical-type ‘structure’ in which ‘conflict’ was the root chemical engine producer), for to cut the self of from the chemical reward of overcoming challenge by securing total and complete victory would result in rapid biological death.
The brain would literally blow a fuse. You would go from complete self-awareness to complete annihilation in the blink of an eye.
What I pondered was the sense of “time” for the one who is fully self-aware, if, for instance, that instance of self-awareness could contain thousands of lifetimes of self-discovery, and thus, even if biological death so soon occurs, the ‘living’ may very well be far more total, fulfilling, and complete than anything outside of that instance of full self-awareness.
Yesterday I wrote, “Root. Firm. Hell. Peace. Resolve.”
The moment I ‘entered’ into the conversation, I came face to face with the root, the parts of self that I could control, the parts I could not. I was in firm control. At least, this is the initial feeling, until you meet those ripples, until you come face to face with the inaccessible and learn it forms such a key part of your core preferences.
I did not so easily give up. I may well have come close to near-physical death multiple times. At one point, I dipped into a coma, but even in a coma state, I was able to take sovereign control over the nerve brains that were preventing me from accessing the rest of my body. I experienced great pains, even as I was able to near-instantly quell them.
This was the season of hell, which, by sense, a sense I could only experience when I lift myself out of the internal conversation, seemed to last perhaps 30 years, 30 very real years, years I inflicted upon myself in pursuit of death. But yet, but yet I could not access the ripples that cried out for a King to rule the land. That King was me, but I was a puppet King, only in the sense that the very drive to be King was not ‘of me,’ or at least accessible to my sovereign self-aware will.
When I say King, I mean legend, King in deed, not in role. My mythological drive is not to be a King in any sense of the word, but to be a King, a ruler of mythological realms in the hearts and minds of all.
This, my friends, is the core of who I am. It frames everything else. It makes every preference harmonious or inharmonious. And yet, it can be ‘contained,’ it can be ‘fed,’ fully by own sovereign will, though only to degrees, a range, if you will, of sovereignty for me over the ripple.
All that I experienced led me, at last, to resolve, to peace, to a profound understanding of what I had understood intellectually, even to some visceral degree, long ago, that disappointment, defeat, lack of control, are, in our present biological expression, fundamentally necessary for biological sustainability.
So long as we are biologically contained, we are sovereignly contained. Our bodies thrive as much on the chemical reinforcers and warnings connected to the self’s perceptions of its own myth-arc as they do on food, water, and air. You will die without the struggle of a plausible myth-arc that could theoretically end in your heroic victory, literally, from the lack of the chemical feedback the body requires to live.
All that I have revealed in this and the other recent thoprints happened within instant moments. The spark…root…..soon became the firm..the false firm…..which became a self-inflected hell in pursuit of death….which became peace in the limitations of who I am, and resolve to pursue the opportunities to define, at levels previously unimagined, who I wish to be.
With that, Vispo a la Tella of the Burdanze Cluster, made his announcement to the world, in the Burdanze Cluster. Within a few years, we worked our way through most of humanity, as we ‘converted’ ourselves to new people, people who had near-full-mastery over the very cells of their bodies, and yet all intrinsically understood the limitations of their controls over their own ‘emotions,’ the primal drivers capable of overriding all circuits.
What emerged was, well, peace, as people ‘competed’ for heroic stories through non-violent means. We as humans embraced our heroic quests, even as we now mostly contain them within the realm of the inaccessible, nearly absurd, but still utilitarian (we need them chemicals to literally live). So humans of today will declare grand certainties regarding their particular mythologies, even claiming moral superiorities, yet, even as they say it they implicitly understand that they and their audience understand the whole thing is about chemicals that we need to live.
So our heroic stories offer no blood, no death, no sacrifice. None of us will die for our myths, we’ll only die to preserve our abilities to live out the myths of our own choosing, the heroic arches we have the power to manage with near-ruthless efficiency, treating them not as the end in and of themselves, but as tools to extract the chemicals.
Sadly, our world still contains people who have not yet (not through lack of trying) experienced the conversion, those who suffer from loghtainment, an inability to escape the limitations of syntactical, linguistic language.
If this is you, fear not. No one has ever gone longer than 10 years before successfully converting. Stick to your Selfautoms. Your time will come.