This one's for Cactus Flower
Perhaps you could call them immortals. Strictly speaking they weren’t, not because they dropped dead ever so often, but because they did not know what death was. There were only a hundred of them and shockingly, referred to each other by two digit names from 00-99. They lived in their own microcosm of the universe where many once important things were supremely irrelevant. Money, business and physical activity fell in this category. Food, drink and shelter weren’t strictly irrelevant, but automated well enough to appear irrelevant. Of course, with hundreds of millions of square kilometres of land area available, and a paltry hundred beings to use it, the dog-eat-dog ideals of capitalism seemed slightly superfluous and completely unheard of, bless Friedman’s long dead soul. So, what did they do then? These beings, whom we will call the Numbers for convenience’s sake, were all philosophers. They knew exactly what their purpose of existence was. It was to find out what their purpose of existence was. And given the not inconsiderable time they had at their disposal, they were remarkably brisk with their actions.
It was the fifth weekly (212th annual) Disagreement meeting. Number 08 had felt that their previously held views regarding the cosmic connection between the periodic variations in luminosity of Saturn’s E-ring and the periodic variations in duration of daily ablutions were slightly flawed. This ingenious discovery stemmed from her personal, well-documented observations. Another thing about the Numbers was this. Any philosopher worth his/her salt must have a working knowledge of the universe’s workings too, or what the hell would he/she philosophize about? The Numbers had unparalleled knowledge of every single natural science known, but for biology. The only forms of life they had ever seen were themselves, and they thought they were ethereal souls with an illusory corporeal manifestation. If their physical selves ever seemed real (like when they accidentally stabbed themselves with Styrofoam forks), it was just to remind them that their souls were fragile and needed protection. Anyway, The Disagreement was a highly formalized institution where a disquieted Number would be provided a platform to air his/her views. If the disagreement was deemed meritorious enough (democratically, of course) further debate would ensue, following which the Numbers would move to another acceptable cosmology (philosophical jargon for a world-view). Number 08’s disagreement was put down to periodic variations in the periodic variations of luminosity of Saturn’s E-ring and the petition dismissed. Again, Dark Age human beings might ask if she wasn’t frustrated, disappointed or negatively affected in any manner. The answer is a (perplexed-by-the-inanity-of-this-question) no. The only emotion beyond happiness, joy, orgasmic delight and curiosity that these beings were capable of experiencing was doubt. Doubt, which only anomalous evidence generates, and Doubt that is put to bed by the voice of the majority. Number 08’s satisfactorily resolved Doubt was not the interesting thing about this particular meeting however. A Number had not turned up.
This in itself was such a stunning break from tradition, that the ninety nine remaining beings were confounded for a while. After several ponderous debates, they decided, true to the noblest ideals of democracy, that the matter was worthy of further investigation. Now this conclusion was slightly less trivial than it seemed. Every Number lived in a well-equipped cubicle which was attached to an automated farm, an automated water source and an automated transport vehicle to take him/her to the Disagreement Room. Theoretically there was a door, and they could see the Inside of the Outside, but no one in Living Memory seemed to have done so. There’s a caveat lurking here. If these beings are truly immortal, then they must have some memory of the time when they shared the planet with mortals, right? The solution to this puzzle is simply that their memories are not immortal. Their memories actually have an upper limit to their capacity, of 200 years, give or take 10 (as established in the 103rd annual Disagreement). Having decided that twenty five Numbers (from 27-51) would go on to explore the Inside of the Outside, the rest retired to their cubicles.
Presently, the twenty five found the cubicle of Number 66, the missing one. It had taken two years to explore the intervening area of two square kilometres that separated it from the Disagreement Room, in a properly satisfactory Doubt-free manner. And what an intellectually thrilling ride it was! Now they knew the purpose of roads and signposts, streetlights and the outsides of doors. The ontological function of a door’s inside was quite self-evident. It led from the Inside to the Inside of the Outside; but the inverse was trickier. Opening the newly Doubt-free outside of the door, they observed the supine form of Number 66 lying on the cubicle floor. Number 66’s mouth was open, and her arms lay motionless by her side. Her eyes were open and her skin seemed to possess an unnatural pallor.
The twenty five thought she was being rather rude by sleeping in this novel manner. Physical contact being unknown to them, they decided to reset her daily alarm to try and wake her up. Meanwhile, Number 33 noticed that something was written on 66’s 3-D diary. It simply said ‘Do not go Outside’. The twenty five, already inundated by a vast number of Doubts, assumed that this was merely Number 66’s way of expressing a Doubt. (After all, wasn’t she the one who slept in so strange a manner?) They decided to discuss the possibility of visiting the Outside of the Outside, as well as the weighty issue of how to wake up Number 66, in the next Disagreement meeting.
Several meetings later, they still could not wake Number 66 up. The Doubt that plagued Number 66 seemed to have infected the ninety nine too. They decided that the only way of resolving this issue was to follow Number 66, and explore the Outside of the Outside. Again they decided that twenty five (41-65, these numbers are anything but random, they are of grave cosmological significance) Numbers would undertake this great expedition, while the rest would dedicate themselves to the task of animating Number 66.
The second group tried many things to wake Number 66 up. They read to her all her catalogued doubts in Living Memory, perhaps in the hope that they she would wake up and debate them once more. They sang, danced and philosophized. They painted the inside of her door blue and left it open on alternate nights. They sat in a circle around her on cloudy days and stood in a circle on sunny ones. Nothing worked. Meanwhile, another Doubt reared its head. What happened to the twenty five? It had been over two months now, and they had not returned.
The rest could not know it, but the twenty five would not return. This is what happened to them.
They had, after over a month of Doubt-ridden exploration found the gate to the Outside of the Outside. It was simple to identify, as it did not have a 3-D signpost like the rest; it just said ‘Outside’. The Outside of the Outside looked a lot like an outside. Everything was a uniform red, and there were no roads or signposts. In the distance, covered by the clouds, were groups of what looked like giant ant hills. They decided to make their way there. Only a little while later, something profoundly strange happened. It was so strange that after a protracted debate, the twenty five agreed that the occurrence could be accorded the status of an Epiphany. They saw another living creature. It walked on four legs, and seemed to be covered with thick, brown hair. It had a long nose, pointy ears and immensely sharp teeth. Also, a queer appendage seemed to project from its hind legs. They decided to engage the creature in parley, and learn of its aims, motivations and desires. The creature made a strange, howling sound and was soon joined by other creatures that resembled it in most respects. The twenty five were delighted; now there were enough of the other race to make it a functioning democracy. They did not last long.
The remaining Numbers too had something of an Epiphany. Seventy five beings in a cubicle (that of the stubbornly sleeping Number 66), despite each cubicle’s sybaritic luxury of expanse, was really too much and the inevitable happened. A Number tripped over another Number’s foot. The discovery that their corporeal selves were not really illusory was so far reaching that two hundred Disagreement meetings were needed to confirm that their discovery wasn’t an illusion too. The Numbers had only one way of clearing up Doubts that could not be philosophized, and that was through experiment. The more fortunate beings had their arms and legs ripped out; others lost their heads, hearts and intestines. This was quite all right; they were only sleeping, remember? They could be woken up any time, as soon as the cause of the soporific anomaly was pinpointed through more experiments. In a short while, all but three were put to sleep.
The three (25,50,75 – again, not random at all) stopped experimenting. They had fallen below the stipulated quorum that a functioning democracy required. They could still organize Disagreement meetings, and take measured democratic decisions; but only decisions that did not affect the state of the rest of the population. The three (two women and a man) decided to perform more experiments. This time, they chose the humble farm as the target of their machinations. They had observed that shutting down of the attached farm also put the occupant to sleep. The entities in the farms may be the key. The pea plant, they observed, seemed to have only two varieties of flowers, the white and the pink. Something about the ratios was inherently Doubtful. More experiments were needed. They also seemed to be making a lot more physical contact, which in certain permutations, they found surprisingly pleasurable. More manoeuvrings were in order here too.
Perhaps you could call them immortals. Strictly speaking they weren’t, not because they dropped dead ever so often, but because they did not know what death was. There were only a hundred of them and shockingly, referred to each other by two digit names from 00-99. They lived in their own microcosm of the universe where many once important things were supremely irrelevant. Money, business and physical activity fell in this category. Food, drink and shelter weren’t strictly irrelevant, but automated well enough to appear irrelevant. Of course, with hundreds of millions of square kilometres of land area available, and a paltry hundred beings to use it, the dog-eat-dog ideals of capitalism seemed slightly superfluous and completely unheard of, bless Friedman’s long dead soul. So, what did they do then? These beings, whom we will call the Numbers for convenience’s sake, were all philosophers. They knew exactly what their purpose of existence was. It was to find out what their purpose of existence was. And given the not inconsiderable time they had at their disposal, they were remarkably brisk with their actions.
It was the fifth weekly (212th annual) Disagreement meeting. Number 08 had felt that their previously held views regarding the cosmic connection between the periodic variations in luminosity of Saturn’s E-ring and the periodic variations in duration of daily ablutions were slightly flawed. This ingenious discovery stemmed from her personal, well-documented observations. Another thing about the Numbers was this. Any philosopher worth his/her salt must have a working knowledge of the universe’s workings too, or what the hell would he/she philosophize about? The Numbers had unparalleled knowledge of every single natural science known, but for biology. The only forms of life they had ever seen were themselves, and they thought they were ethereal souls with an illusory corporeal manifestation. If their physical selves ever seemed real (like when they accidentally stabbed themselves with Styrofoam forks), it was just to remind them that their souls were fragile and needed protection. Anyway, The Disagreement was a highly formalized institution where a disquieted Number would be provided a platform to air his/her views. If the disagreement was deemed meritorious enough (democratically, of course) further debate would ensue, following which the Numbers would move to another acceptable cosmology (philosophical jargon for a world-view). Number 08’s disagreement was put down to periodic variations in the periodic variations of luminosity of Saturn’s E-ring and the petition dismissed. Again, Dark Age human beings might ask if she wasn’t frustrated, disappointed or negatively affected in any manner. The answer is a (perplexed-by-the-inanity-of-this-question) no. The only emotion beyond happiness, joy, orgasmic delight and curiosity that these beings were capable of experiencing was doubt. Doubt, which only anomalous evidence generates, and Doubt that is put to bed by the voice of the majority. Number 08’s satisfactorily resolved Doubt was not the interesting thing about this particular meeting however. A Number had not turned up.
This in itself was such a stunning break from tradition, that the ninety nine remaining beings were confounded for a while. After several ponderous debates, they decided, true to the noblest ideals of democracy, that the matter was worthy of further investigation. Now this conclusion was slightly less trivial than it seemed. Every Number lived in a well-equipped cubicle which was attached to an automated farm, an automated water source and an automated transport vehicle to take him/her to the Disagreement Room. Theoretically there was a door, and they could see the Inside of the Outside, but no one in Living Memory seemed to have done so. There’s a caveat lurking here. If these beings are truly immortal, then they must have some memory of the time when they shared the planet with mortals, right? The solution to this puzzle is simply that their memories are not immortal. Their memories actually have an upper limit to their capacity, of 200 years, give or take 10 (as established in the 103rd annual Disagreement). Having decided that twenty five Numbers (from 27-51) would go on to explore the Inside of the Outside, the rest retired to their cubicles.
Presently, the twenty five found the cubicle of Number 66, the missing one. It had taken two years to explore the intervening area of two square kilometres that separated it from the Disagreement Room, in a properly satisfactory Doubt-free manner. And what an intellectually thrilling ride it was! Now they knew the purpose of roads and signposts, streetlights and the outsides of doors. The ontological function of a door’s inside was quite self-evident. It led from the Inside to the Inside of the Outside; but the inverse was trickier. Opening the newly Doubt-free outside of the door, they observed the supine form of Number 66 lying on the cubicle floor. Number 66’s mouth was open, and her arms lay motionless by her side. Her eyes were open and her skin seemed to possess an unnatural pallor.
The twenty five thought she was being rather rude by sleeping in this novel manner. Physical contact being unknown to them, they decided to reset her daily alarm to try and wake her up. Meanwhile, Number 33 noticed that something was written on 66’s 3-D diary. It simply said ‘Do not go Outside’. The twenty five, already inundated by a vast number of Doubts, assumed that this was merely Number 66’s way of expressing a Doubt. (After all, wasn’t she the one who slept in so strange a manner?) They decided to discuss the possibility of visiting the Outside of the Outside, as well as the weighty issue of how to wake up Number 66, in the next Disagreement meeting.
Several meetings later, they still could not wake Number 66 up. The Doubt that plagued Number 66 seemed to have infected the ninety nine too. They decided that the only way of resolving this issue was to follow Number 66, and explore the Outside of the Outside. Again they decided that twenty five (41-65, these numbers are anything but random, they are of grave cosmological significance) Numbers would undertake this great expedition, while the rest would dedicate themselves to the task of animating Number 66.
The second group tried many things to wake Number 66 up. They read to her all her catalogued doubts in Living Memory, perhaps in the hope that they she would wake up and debate them once more. They sang, danced and philosophized. They painted the inside of her door blue and left it open on alternate nights. They sat in a circle around her on cloudy days and stood in a circle on sunny ones. Nothing worked. Meanwhile, another Doubt reared its head. What happened to the twenty five? It had been over two months now, and they had not returned.
The rest could not know it, but the twenty five would not return. This is what happened to them.
They had, after over a month of Doubt-ridden exploration found the gate to the Outside of the Outside. It was simple to identify, as it did not have a 3-D signpost like the rest; it just said ‘Outside’. The Outside of the Outside looked a lot like an outside. Everything was a uniform red, and there were no roads or signposts. In the distance, covered by the clouds, were groups of what looked like giant ant hills. They decided to make their way there. Only a little while later, something profoundly strange happened. It was so strange that after a protracted debate, the twenty five agreed that the occurrence could be accorded the status of an Epiphany. They saw another living creature. It walked on four legs, and seemed to be covered with thick, brown hair. It had a long nose, pointy ears and immensely sharp teeth. Also, a queer appendage seemed to project from its hind legs. They decided to engage the creature in parley, and learn of its aims, motivations and desires. The creature made a strange, howling sound and was soon joined by other creatures that resembled it in most respects. The twenty five were delighted; now there were enough of the other race to make it a functioning democracy. They did not last long.
The remaining Numbers too had something of an Epiphany. Seventy five beings in a cubicle (that of the stubbornly sleeping Number 66), despite each cubicle’s sybaritic luxury of expanse, was really too much and the inevitable happened. A Number tripped over another Number’s foot. The discovery that their corporeal selves were not really illusory was so far reaching that two hundred Disagreement meetings were needed to confirm that their discovery wasn’t an illusion too. The Numbers had only one way of clearing up Doubts that could not be philosophized, and that was through experiment. The more fortunate beings had their arms and legs ripped out; others lost their heads, hearts and intestines. This was quite all right; they were only sleeping, remember? They could be woken up any time, as soon as the cause of the soporific anomaly was pinpointed through more experiments. In a short while, all but three were put to sleep.
The three (25,50,75 – again, not random at all) stopped experimenting. They had fallen below the stipulated quorum that a functioning democracy required. They could still organize Disagreement meetings, and take measured democratic decisions; but only decisions that did not affect the state of the rest of the population. The three (two women and a man) decided to perform more experiments. This time, they chose the humble farm as the target of their machinations. They had observed that shutting down of the attached farm also put the occupant to sleep. The entities in the farms may be the key. The pea plant, they observed, seemed to have only two varieties of flowers, the white and the pink. Something about the ratios was inherently Doubtful. More experiments were needed. They also seemed to be making a lot more physical contact, which in certain permutations, they found surprisingly pleasurable. More manoeuvrings were in order here too.
No comments:
Post a Comment