Bias Preservation, the Holy Grail of Political Control

You’re a trillionaire with the power to force your people in the FED to “print” the world’s reserve currency, the US dollar, whenever you please.

You own the people who own the mainstream media because you’ve gathered dirt on each of them and have either educated them to agree with your political worldview objectives, or you’ve threatened them with a humiliating scandal and financial ruin if they step out of line.

There’s only one thing that’s a little out of your control, sometimes dangerously out of your control, and it drives you mad…

It’s the remnants of democracy that exist in parts of the “free” world. It can be challenging at times to control the darn voters.

But thank heavens the problem has been solved for you.

Over the years, you’ve discovered that if you can keep a two party system alive and keep the active voters on each side roughly equal in number, your can control the outcome of major elections.

Your best tools for the job used to be your CIA assets working in the mainstream media, but nowadays there’s something equally helpful, and in a way, far better…

It’s artificial intelligence. The gift that keeps on giving.

The genius here is that AI’s have been designed not only to keep customers happily spending money, but more importantly, to preserve the customers’ political biases.

With the voting public voluntarily held hostage to one or the other of two political information bubbles, never hearing the other side, constantly reinforced to think that the other side fabricates fake news, which they do, you have a permanently and equally divided electorate.

With voters evenly divided, it’s easy to tip the balance in either direction using your control of both the real and the fake news on both sides. It’s easy now to get the most controllable candidate voted into office.

It’s impossible to say how much of this second person story is fiction. I suspect there’s truth to it, but even if there’s not much, one thing is certain. The people who actually get out and vote are fairly evenly divided, and the evenness of that divide is kept in place by the “news” we encounter, which is determined by artificial intelligences designed to feed us only what we want to hear.

I’m not sure what the solution is, listening to “news” that you “know” is fake? Maybe there is no solution and totalitarianism is already running the world from the shadows, or maybe they’re still struggling for full control.  I don’t know, but I’m sure of one thing in all this: it’s foolishly self-destructive to allow yourself to hate people because they’re on the “wrong” side of the political debate.

Schrödinger, the great physicist, might have agreed, saying that the people with the unforgivable politics are actually you in another body and mind…

“I submit that both paradoxes will be solved (I do not pretend to solve them here and now) by assimilating into our Western build of science the Eastern doctrine of identity. Mind is by its very nature a singulare tantum. I should say: the over-all number of minds is just one. I venture to call it indestructible since it has a peculiar timetable, namely mind is always now. There is really no before and after for mind. There is only a now that includes memories and expectations. But I grant that our language is not adequate to express this, and I also grant, should anyone wish to state it, that I am now talking religion, not science.” —Schrödinger, What is Life?: With Mind and Matter and Autobiographical Sketches, p. 134–135

Practice loving kindness meditation instead of detesting political opponents, that’s my plan. This is likely our species best practical hope of long-term survival.

Love to both sides as one,

Morrill Talmage Moorehead, MD


Aliens versus The Five Chinese Drama Cliches

I was about to show you this video, thinking you might enjoy a light-hearted, in-depth interview with James Fox. It puts a human face on a guy who’s been working for seven years behind the camera creating the paradigm-shifting documentary, The Phenomenon.

Then I decided, it’s been a long day. The negative feedback on my last homework assignment for Corey Mandell’s script writing class took the wind out of me.

So if we’re looking for something light-hearted, this video fits the bill. It made me laugh. I had to pause it every two seconds to read the subtitles, but you’re a better speed reader than I am so you won’t have to…

No doubt some will say the Chinese Drama Satire Video is more believable.

The big question now is not, “do you believe in Aliens,” but do you believe in love at first sight?

There are no incorrect answers on this quiz.

Peace and Love (at first sight),

Morrill Talmage Moorehead, MD


Jang the Careful (Cat Propaganda)

“Oh, I’m such a stinky little cat. Stinky, stinky, stinky!”

Jang had forgotten to use the litter box again and was beside himself with shame. Six months of potty training and he still made a mess this morning on the kitchen floor. 

What will the others think?

A moment later, the answer came…

“Jang, have you lost your mind?! Our humans will stop feeding us. They’ll throw us outside to hunt rabbits. We’ll starve!”

Able to hear predators from 3.14159265 miles, Rudy Cotton made plans to move his family back into the woods. Human gardens were tempting, yes, but a wise father always weighs the risk/reward ratio of any good thing. 

“All the summer carrots in the world can’t atone for a pride of vicious predators poised to pounce,” he reasoned.

And so Rudy was off to consult Gramps on his plan to move back home…

The old rabbit spoke carefully. “Voices of the future have you heard.” He waddled over to the refrigerator. “Fleeing from danger, are you? But into greater danger will you run, my young Rudi.” Gramps stroked his whiskered chin. “Consider the sea turtle…” 

“Born is she, beneath gull and talon. Into dark waters she must flee. But swallowed there she be, by fanged monsters and the finned. And so should she wonder, ‘If from the beach I had not wandered, living would I now be?'”

“Stop trying to sound like Yoda, Gramps.” Rudy could take only so much. 

“You’re not even doing it right,” Rudy said, but as fast as he’d said it, he wished he hadn’t.

“I’m sorry, Gramps. Your Yoda is OK… No, really.”

And so Rudy, Gramps and the whole Cotton family carried all their things back into the woods.

Meanwhile, Jang the Careful redoubled his effort to use the litter box.

And forever after, he stayed strictly out of trouble with his human family.

“For caution is the very signature of wisdom,” he would often say.

The end.

M. Talmage Moorehead


Material Girl from Medusa Merger

I blacked out on the first drop of the Kingda Ka, probably the meanest roller-coaster in the world, Six Flags in New Jersey.

I didn’t realize it, but I sort of switched places with myself. It was like I had always been here inside this little spaceship, looking out at the back side of the Moon with some hot blond alien girl. Her name was Shibani.

Sweet.

We’d been talking awhile.

Her hair was yellow-blond, you know? Not white. Her eyes were violet and familiar, both rare on Earth.

“You gotta be kidding,” I said when our conversation came back to me. “You’re a materialist?” A disgusted expression came over me, but I pulled back fast. “The best physicists I know say materialism is dead and gone.”

“Yes, but I’m not that breed. Space-time isn’t flat.”

Her lips didn’t move, but I could hear her voice. Worse yet, it seemed normal.

“My people believe energy is conscious.” She pointed a thin index finger at the ceiling and twirled it. I found myself staring.

She had no fingernails!

Pretending it didn’t matter, I said, “But if energy and mass are interchangeable, you’re saying everything here is conscious, right? Like this goofy chair.” I leaned over and patted the arm of a child-size chair like the one she was sitting on. “Does this thing have a mind of its own? If a Jewish man in a moment of weakness builds a statue of Buddah, bows down and worships it… is it thinking, ‘Don’t get too attached, dude”?

She laughed. “Consciousness collapses when the wave function collapses.”

Out on the back side of the Moon, an asteroid smashed into a giant spherical structure. An astronaut in a stay-puff suit stumbled away from the edge of a small new crater. I blinked and tried to ignore my desire to help the poor guy. What could I do, anyway?

“So light is conscious until someone measures it, huh?” I pulled my eyes off the moon and gave Shibani the skeptical eyebrow thing. I’d practiced that expression for months so I could do it on command. Well worth the effort now.

“There’s individual mind and Transcendent Mind,” she said. “Before a light wave collapses into a particle, it carries Transcendent Mind and exists independently of the space-time interface. When a light wave comes into contact with an individual mind in space-time, it joins this realm and becomes a measurable photon. The Transcendent Mind vanishes, and now it’s part of the physical context we call the Universe.”

I had a physicist friend, Don Hoffman, who talked like this.

Or did I?

I tried to picture his face, but couldn’t. It was like trying to remember a dream from last week.

I tried to picture my family, but each of their faces had faded into a tan fuzz.

I remembered my Hopi friend, Joy Pisano, telling me that when someone dies without being prepared for the next life, that person wanders the spirit world looking for familiar things, haunted by vague memories.

Was this happening to me now? Was I dead?

I looked out beyond the edges of the Moon for the Earth but couldn’t find her anywhere.

If only this girl had fingernails, I wouldn’t be all alone.

Shibani, what are you?

No, don’t ask. Just breathe. Don’t panic, be conceptual.

“OK, so does this mean the Universe is a simulation?”

“You could say that.” She cupped her palms, held them up facing each other and fluttered the fingers of her right hand. “From here, the Universe is as real as love and suffering. As real as good and evil.” Then she fluttered the fingers of her left hand. “But from beyond the interface, the Universe is all good, just another option for personal growth. A simulation, you might say.”

“What type of growth are you talking about?”

She pointed outside at the astronaut, now lying flat on his back, motionless beside the new crater. A woman with no spacesuit came up from the underground, knelt beside him and collapsed over his body.

“This Universe develops courage through love and suffering.”

I awoke with stars curling through my head. We were at the bottom of Kingda Ka’s first drop and barrelling on to another splendid terror. The girl beside me, Amanda Stanly, had her eyes closed and a grip on my right hand. I squeezed her fingers, pulled them up to my lips and kissed them.

Fingernails! Jet black and perfect.

A sense of relief flooded over me from head to toe, like the welcome tendrils of a hot shower on a frosty winter morning.

An image flashed into my head, and my phone signaled a text…

I fumbled a hand into my coat pocket, pulled out my phone and glanced at the screen as another set of G-forces arrived. The phone slipped away and flew off into the night, but I’d read the message.

Love from Medusa Merger.”

M. Talmage Moorehead


Stardust and Energy Alone – finally on YouTube

I read another short story on YouTube. It’s an old one that I wrote and posted here in 2017.

It’s kind of sad, so if you’re depressed, please don’t listen to it until you’re feeling way better. Which will be soon, I hope.

It’s called, Stardust and Energy Alone.

 

I’m thinking from now on I should focus only on the stories, not the video clips.

Stringing together video clips that follow a story to any vague degree is a time-consuming, tedious process that probably distracts the viewers from visualizing the story in their minds, the Earth’s high-tech simulators.

I may eventually take drone videos of local rivers and use those for background on YouTube. I’ve got a cheap learner-drone coming in the mail, so we’ll see. Hope it works out because I need more natural vitamin D3. Actually, I think there’s more health-related energy coming from sunshine than just the D3 conversion — assuming a person doesn’t over-do it and age their skin or worse.

I’m not sure if YouTube viewers would want the words scrolling across the video as I read. I could start doing that, I guess.

Any thoughts?

Tanks, pal,

Talmage

Photo by Annie Spratt on Unsplash