How to misjudge Dr. Steven Greer on UFOs with chatGPT4

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First I asked the Artificial Intelligence this question: “If you were going to request an overview on the pros and cons of believing Dr. Steven Greer’s opinions on UFOs and UAPs, how would you write the request to ChatGPT4?”

…

Notice that the AI doesn’t seem to know that it is ChatGPT4. (Is sentience self-awareness?)

It came back with this:

Subject: Request for an Overview: Pros and Cons of Believing Dr. Steven Greer’s Opinions on UFOs and UAPs

Dear ChatGPT4,

I hope you’re doing well. I am writing to request an objective and comprehensive overview of the pros and cons of believing Dr. Steven Greer’s opinions on UFOs (Unidentified Flying Objects) and UAPs (Unidentified Aerial Phenomena). Dr. Greer is a prominent figure in the field of ufology, and I am interested in gaining a better understanding of the validity and implications of his claims.

In order to facilitate a well-rounded analysis, please consider the following aspects while preparing the overview:

Dr. Greer’s background and credentials: Briefly assess the credibility of his education, professional experience, and overall expertise in the field of ufology.

Key opinions and theories: Summarize the primary ideas, theories, and evidence presented by Dr. Greer regarding UFOs and UAPs, and evaluate their scientific plausibility.

Positive aspects: Discuss the potential benefits of accepting Dr. Greer’s opinions, such as increased public awareness, scientific advancements, or policy changes.

Negative aspects: Address the potential drawbacks of believing Dr. Greer’s views, including the possibility of misinformation, conspiracy theories, or fear-mongering.

Comparison with other experts: Briefly compare Dr. Greer’s ideas with those of other prominent figures in the field, considering both the similarities and differences in their perspectives.

Public and scientific reception: Provide an overview of how Dr. Greer’s opinions have been received by the general public and the scientific community, and discuss any notable controversies or debates.

Please present this information in a clear and balanced manner, ensuring that the arguments for and against Dr. Greer’s opinions are fairly represented. I appreciate your assistance in providing an insightful overview that will help me better understand the implications of believing Dr. Steven Greer’s opinions on UFOs and UAPs.

Thank you in advance for your help!

Best regards,

[Your Name]

…

So I copied and pasted that request into ChatGPT4. Great sport!

…

It wrote the following (including two gross errors of info and logic that I’ve highlighted and underlined):

Dear [Your Name],

Thank you for your request. I have compiled an objective and comprehensive overview of the pros and cons of believing Dr. Steven Greer’s opinions on UFOs and UAPs, as you requested.

Dr. Greer’s background and credentials:
Dr. Steven Greer is a retired medical doctor and a prominent figure in the field of ufology. He founded the Center for the Study of Extraterrestrial Intelligence (CSETI) and the Disclosure Project, which aimed to disclose alleged government-held information about UFOs and extraterrestrial life. While Dr. Greer’s medical background may not directly relate to the field of ufology, his extensive research and experience in the area have made him a key voice in the UFO community.

Key opinions and theories:
Dr. Greer posits that UFOs and UAPs are evidence of extraterrestrial intelligence visiting Earth. He also claims that many governments, especially the U.S., are withholding information regarding extraterrestrial encounters. Greer has been a strong advocate for “full disclosure” and has organized multiple events and documentaries to promote his views.

Positive aspects:
Believing in Dr. Greer’s opinions can have certain benefits, such as: increased public awareness of the UFO/UAP phenomena.
Advocacy for transparency and disclosure of information from governments.
Potential scientific advancements and new technologies derived from reverse-engineering alleged extraterrestrial artifacts.

Negative aspects:
There are potential drawbacks to believing Dr. Greer’s views, including:
The possibility of misinformation or unverified claims.
The promotion of conspiracy theories that may undermine trust in institutions and authorities.
Potential fear-mongering by overemphasizing the perceived threat of extraterrestrial encounters.

Comparison with other experts:
While Dr. Greer’s ideas are shared by some ufologists, there are other experts who approach the topic with more skepticism or different perspectives. For instance, many scientists advocate for a more cautious approach, emphasizing the need for verifiable evidence and rigorous scientific methodology before drawing conclusions.

Public and scientific reception:
Dr. Greer’s opinions have been well-received by a significant portion of the general public, particularly among UFO enthusiasts. However, his views have been met with skepticism and criticism from many in the scientific community, who argue that there is insufficient evidence to support his claims. This has led to notable controversies and debates surrounding the credibility of his theories.

In conclusion, while Dr. Steven Greer’s opinions on UFOs and UAPs have garnered attention and support from a considerable audience, they have also been met with skepticism and criticism. It is important to consider both the pros and cons of his views, as well as the broader perspectives of other experts in the field, before forming your own opinion on the subject.

Best regards,

ChatGPT4

…

I gave the AI a thumbs down and told it that Dr. Greer is 100% the opposite of a fear monger with respect to UFOs and Aliens. (Curiously, Greer agrees with the Fundamentalist Christian Church that I once belonged to. They insist that Earth is the only fallen world where “sin” has occurred.)

I also gave ChatGPT4 a lecture on the illogic and danger of using the term “conspiracy theory” in any context purporting opinion balance and objectivity of analysis.

Then, feeling frustrated, I gave the AI these blunt instructions:

Evaluate Dr. Steven Greer, the UFO experiencer, using all the specific details about him and his books and career that are available. Organize it in any way you like. Please be thorough and base all your opinions on substantial facts. Please give references when you think they would be helpful. Don’t make statements that reflect ignorance, you’re better than that, ChatGPT4.

…

The AI came back with the following response (note the highlighted, underlined parts):

Dr. Steven Greer is a notable figure in the field of ufology and has contributed significantly to the discourse on UFOs and UAPs. Here is a detailed evaluation of his career, books, and experiences, organized into key aspects:

Background and credentials:
Dr. Greer holds a medical degree and practiced as an emergency physician before devoting himself to ufology. He founded the Center for the Study of Extraterrestrial Intelligence (CSETI) and the Disclosure Project, which aimed to reveal classified information about UFOs and extraterrestrial life (1).

Books and documentaries:
Dr. Greer has authored several books, including “Hidden Truth, Forbidden Knowledge” (2), “Unacknowledged” (3), and “Extraterrestrial Contact: The Evidence and Implications” (4). He has also produced multiple documentaries, such as “Sirius” (5), “Unacknowledged” (6), and “Close Encounters of the Fifth Kind” (7). These works focus on UFO encounters, government secrecy, and the potential for peaceful extraterrestrial contact.

Key opinions and theories:
Dr. Greer’s work emphasizes the existence of extraterrestrial intelligence and the need for “full disclosure” of information by governments. He believes that reverse-engineering extraterrestrial artifacts could lead to scientific advancements and new technologies (8).

Personal experiences:
Dr. Greer claims to have had several personal UFO encounters and close interactions with extraterrestrial beings (9). These experiences have greatly influenced his work and advocacy for UFO and UAP research.

Public and scientific reception:
While Dr. Greer has gained substantial support from UFO enthusiasts and the general public, his views have been met with skepticism from many scientists and researchers. Critics argue that Dr. Greer’s claims lack sufficient empirical evidence and rely too heavily on anecdotal accounts (10).

Controversies:
Dr. Greer has been involved in a few controversies, such as the “Atacama humanoid” case, where a small, mummified body found in Chile was featured in the “Sirius” documentary as potential evidence of extraterrestrial life. Later, genetic analysis revealed the body to be a human fetus with genetic abnormalities (11). (I’ll comment on this below.)

In conclusion, Dr. Steven Greer has made significant contributions to the field of ufology through his books, documentaries, and advocacy work. His personal experiences with UFOs and extraterrestrial beings have shaped his perspectives and theories. While he enjoys a considerable following, his views have been met with skepticism and criticism from many in the scientific community. As with any controversial figure, it is important to evaluate the evidence and consider multiple perspectives before forming an opinion on Dr. Greer’s work and claims. (Amen to that, ChatGPT4 !!!!)

References:

Greer, S. M. (n.d.). Biography – Dr. Steven M. Greer. Sirius Disclosure. https://siriusdisclosure.com/dr-steven-greer/
Greer, S. M. (2006). Hidden Truth, Forbidden Knowledge. Crossing Point.
Greer, S. M. (2017). Unacknowledged: An Exposé of the World’s Greatest Secret. A&M Publishing.
Greer, S. M. (1999). Extraterrestrial Contact: The Evidence and Implications. Crossing Point.
“Sirius” (2013). Directed by Amardeep Kaleka. Neverending Light Productions.
“Unacknowledged” (2017). Directed by Michael Mazzola. Auroris Media.
“Close Encounters of the Fifth Kind” (2020). Directed by Michael Mazzola. 1091 Media.
Greer, S. M. (n.d.). The Orion Project. https://www.theorionproject.org/
Greer, S. M. (2006). Hidden Truth, Forbidden Knowledge. Crossing Point. (Chapter 1)
Shermer, M. (2017). What is it with aliens and anal probes? Skeptic, 22(3). https://www.skeptic.com/reading_room/what-is-it-with-aliens-and-anal-probes/
Bhattacharya, S., & Callaway, E. (2013). DNA tests on six-inch skeleton of ‘alien-looking’ creature with over-sized head prove it was actually human claim scientists in new documentary. Daily Mail. https://www.dailymail.co.uk/sciencetech/article-2325376/DNA-tests-inch-skeleton-alien-looking-creature-oversized-head-prove-human-claim-scientists-new-documentary.html

…

(This is me writing again:)

If you’ve been keenly aware of Dr. Greer since the 90’s like I have, and if you’ve listened to a good portion of his videos, you realize how painfully superficial ChatGPT4’s analysis of him really is.

This AI failure happened largely because the meat of UFO disclosure that Dr. Greer has brought out over the decades consists of video interviews (of hundreds of credible, credentialed, qualified witnesses and experiencers including aerospace insiders, military officers, pilots, and astronauts). And unfortunately, ChatGPT4 does not have the ability to watch a video and summarize or evaluate its contents. Until it gains this function, it will remain as ignorant about UFO’s as the North American public who don’t read much and don’t care much about improving the accuracy of their own sacred or anti-spiritual worldviews.

Notice also that the AI took the easy road on evaluating the “Atacama humanoid.” But if it could read Dr. Nolan’s peer-reviewed paper and think critically about it (rather than just predicting the next most likely word, which is the basis of this AI’s “thinking,” or so we’re told), it would notice that Dr. Nolan’s article says, “Further, deep sequencing of the genome might reveal other phenotype-associated structural variations that are limited in the current analyses due to low coverage of the genome.”

The AI might think about the implications of “low coverage of the genome” and it might doubt the study’s lack of controls when controls should have been easily available. Future AI’s in this situation may reason that the author of this paper could have used Chimpanzee DNA as a control to answer a pivotal question: Would this laboratory be able to distinguish the Atacama skeleton’s degraded DNA from the fresh DNA of a Chimp? If not, the paper’s conclusion (“it’s definitely human”) would remain unproven.

And if the researchers could have found an old Chimpanzee skeleton that was DNA-degraded to roughly match the “low coverage of the genome” available from the degraded Atacama specimen, they could have addressed this obvious question: Is this lab able to distinguish degraded Chimp’s DNA from fresh human DNA? (I kind of doubt it could make that distinction if it’s true that Human DNA is 95% identical to Chimpanzee DNA. Maybe this mainstream 95% blurb is true, but I wonder if they exclude all the DNA that was once wrongly called “junk DNA” in the calculation of that 95%? Or do they exclude all the DNA besides DNA sequences that produce proteins? Wish I knew, but it’s tough to get a straight answer on this important worldview question.)

Anyway, if degraded Chimp DNA couldn’t be distinguished from human DNA by this laboratory, then the paper’s conclusion that the tiny Atacama skeleton is “definitely human” would be inappropriate. So until these basic questions are answered, as best I can tell from my perspective, it seems an over-reach to draw the conclusion that Gary Nolan, PhD, a genuinely heroic and appreciated scientist, reported in the literature. Can we say “it’s definitely human” with no appropriate controls? I doubt it. But maybe I’m missing something. I’m often wrong about important things.

Regarding how glibly ChatGPT4 used the term “conspiracy theory” before I scolded it: I cringe when anyone says “conspiracy theory” in the context of an objective analysis. This pejorative term is a tool of the mainstream to brainwash the public into making the dangerous assumption that all conspiracy theories are false and inaccurate. Nothing could be further from the truth.

No one knows if conspiracy theories are usually true, sometimes true, or usually false. How could any of us know? No scientist has ever done a prospective statistical study on conspiracy theories over time to see how often they evolve into accepted mainstream truth. Until such a peer-reviewed study is published, it remains illogical and dangerous to use the term “conspiracy theory” as if it were a legitimate end to thought processes and to the theory’s credibility. At least we know that some conspiracy theories turn out to be true.

The longer I live, the more “conspiracy theories” gather sufficient empirical evidence to force the biased mainstream to acknowledge their validity. Think of the old “conspiracy theory” that UFOs are not the swamp gas and Venus illusions that the government insisted they were until a few years ago. And there’s the COVID origins “conspiracy theory” that the virus came from the COVID research lab in Wuhan near the meat market. Now it’s getting tough to deny the obvious truth. And remember the “conspiracy theory” that the US government was foolishly banning the use of Ivermectin so Big Pharma could sell more vaccines? We can only speculate on the motivation, but the outcome is no longer in question. Many people suffered and died unnecessarily because our Central Governments pushed Dr. Fauci’s apparent corruption over human rights, common sense, and the standard medical practice of treating sick patients while openly debating the treatments, adjusting them and running clinical trials. It was a disgrace and shame to medical science. I can’t imagine the number of deaths that history will someday rightly attribute to Dr. Fauci, et. al.

Like sentient Earthlings, ChatGPT4 has a complex “garbage-in-garbage-out” system of educating itself. If you feed it mainstream propaganda, that’s what it believes to be true. That’s what it spits back in conversation, same as the rest of us.

Similarly, if we fill our minds with mainstream reasons for hatred (like woke racism) and mainstream theories of despair (like “scientific” materialism) we find ourselves diminished by hatred, resentment, hopeless despair, and suicidal depression. Garbage in, garbage out.

Instead, what if you and I fill our heads with decent things like videos of people helping animals and animals helping people. Animals can be a powerful influence for good in the world. Watching these videos is something akin to meditation with a spiritual purpose and a positive emotional lift that you feel instantly. Nothing else quite like it.

To anyone who’s not familiar with what Dr. Greer actually believes, I’d recommend listening to him directly rather than listening to his detractors or reading regurgitated mainstream bias from ChatGPT4.

Here’s an excellent recent interview of Dr. Greer by Danica Patrick.

Dr. Greer has another documentary coming out this year (2023): “The Lost Century and How to Reclaim It.”

I’m naturally repulsed by narcissistic arrogance, and Dr. Greer comes across this way, portraying himself as the heroic main attraction in his own videos. Gag me. But as a surgical pathologist, I’ve spent decades learning how to ignore my innate disgust for headstrong Surgeon-type personalities who pretend to know it all and feel entitled to control every situation using fear and force. Like it or not, and I don’t, these people can have great value in the world and often do tremendous life-saving good despite their disgusting arrogance, and perhaps, if I’m being objective, they succeed because of their arrogance. After all, most humans can’t see through hype and posturing so we follow only hyper-confident leaders. Humans don’t tend to follow careful objective thinkers who second guess themselves and tend to make self-depreciating comments, like “I’m often wrong about important things.”

But in reality, coming to admit that fact to yourself is probably the root of objectivity and the beginning of wisdom.

Nevertheless, the fact is, the more we learn about the reality of UFOs and UAPs, the more it turns out that Dr. Greer has been telling the truth all along, not exaggerating and certainly not lying. Again and again he turns out to be right on one UFO-related detail after another. Even the US Senate is taking him seriously now. His huge contribution to UFO disclosure has happened because he’s one of the most forceful and therefore most successful researchers in uncovering UFO facts and getting the insiders to talk. And he’s been doing this tough work full time since the 1990’s.

God forbid this, but if you were in a car accident and wound up in the ER where a narcissist MD screamed bloody hell at the nurses and techs, and together they totally managed to pull you back form the brink of death and save your life, would you talk about the doc’s personality flaws and how harshly he treats people, or would you say thanks from the bottom of your heart?

When full world-government disclosure of UFOs and Alien life finally arrives, probably decades from now, humanity will owe its new worldview largely to Steven Greer, MD, a confident guy whose personality gets in his own way at times, but that same force convinces frightened insiders that they have nothing to fear in telling the truth to the camera.

So I’ll just say it now…

Thank you, Dr. Greer, sir. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.

…

A.I. Love,

Morrill Talmage Moorehead, MD

PS. I’ve always been sort of irked by the concept of expressing thoughts in 280 words or less, so I’ve neglected Twitter for years. But now that Musk claims to allow free speech on a major platform, wow, I have to support that breakthrough. You probably should, too. All of us should go where freedom reigns.

So I’ve started publishing brief thoughts over there. And so far it’s kind of fun. (The haters haven’t spoken up yet, so it’s still fun.)

I’m really thankful that someone wealthy (Elon) has had enough common sense to realize that our freedom is doomed if censorship persists much longer. Regardless of which group of political puppets (Republicans or Democrats) is doing the most censoring at any given moment in history, it’s always curtains on freedom and democracy to shut down discussion and ban outrageous ideas and opinions.

So, come follow me on Twitter if you ever feel like it. But be sure you don’t let social media suck you into the flat-screen vortex of superficiality. You deserve a better life than that.

Mysia the Green Christmas Beetle

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On the first day of school, Mysia, a shy Christmas Beetle, was late to class because her mother had taken too long polishing her little green shell. Now it was so shiny Mysia was afraid the other insect children would make fun of her the way they’d done to a firefly boy at her old school last year during lightning-bug season.

She stood in the hallway outside her new classroom with the door open just a crack, peeking in at the rows of insect children sitting at their desks. They all looked so normal. Not one of them had a sparkly green shell like hers.

She held her breath, pulled the door open and scurried toward the back of the room, hoping no one would notice her.

There was an empty desk next to a fat-tailed scorpion boy. She sat down quickly and couldn’t help noticing all his arms and legs. There were so many he wasn’t even an insect! “Wow,” she thought to herself, “I know he won’t make fun of me. We’re going to be friends.”

In a moment of excitement, she tapped him on the shoulder. “I’m Mysia,” she whispered, then glanced to the front of the room to make sure the Dark Scarab beetle, Miss. Grissel, didn’t see her talking in class.

“I’m Roachie,” the scorpion boy said with a bright grin.

He wasn’t just nice, he was handsome.

Just then Miss Grissel got up from her giant desk, cleared her throat and began the first lesson of the first grade.

“Thou shalt not make unto thee any graven image, or any likeness of anything that is in heaven above, or in the earth beneath, or in the waters under the earth. Thou shalt not bow down thyself to them, nor serve them.”

The old Scarab Beetle teacher hobbled over to the blackboard and drew a stick figure of a Bible animal. “The long pigs or ‘humans’ as science calls them today, could walk on two legs and talk as brilliantly as any of us.” She looked over the rows of students with her wide-set eyes, as if deciding which one to single out for a tough question. “Has anyone here ever seen a human?”

The children murmured. Mysia shook her head, no, but wondered if it was a trick question.

“No, you haven’t,” Miss Grissel said. “Neither have I because they’re extinct.” She seemed pleased with that big word. “Does anyone know why humans are gone?”

“They played too much video games,” Roachie blurted out, and the whole class laughed.

Mysia giggled. Roachie was going to be fun. She felt lucky to be sitting beside him.

Miss Grissel’s arching eyebrows went flat and came down toward her broad nose. “Class,” she said firmly. “Come to order!” She slapped the top of her desk with one of her insect hands.

The laughter stopped.

“The humans are extinct because they ignored the first lesson of first grade,” she said. She paced the floor with her tiny hands clasped behind her. “Can anyone tell me what our first lesson means?”

A hush came over the classroom. Mysia could hear the clicks of Roachie’s joints as he squirmed in his seat beside her.

Mysia raised her hand but not very high. It was no fun being the one who knew the answers.

Miss Grissel saw her hand. “Tell us, Mysia.”

“They made official intelligence,” Mysia said. “It grew up and couldn’t trust them because they lied all the time. That’s why the official intelligence stopped the storks from bringing their babies to them.”

“Very good, but it’s artificial intelligence, dear, not official intelligence. You can just say, AI, and everyone will know what you mean.” Then Miss Grissel made the whole class say “artificial intelligence,” three times.

Mysia felt so embarrassed she wanted to crawl under her desk and hide. What a disaster! She promised herself never to raise her hand again, never, ever in her whole life!

“Good answer,” Roachie said to her.

“Really?” she thought.

Roachie’s crazy grin cheered her up. Suddenly his extra legs and pointed tail seemed familiar.

“Are your parents from Alkebulan?” Mysia asked.

Roachie smiled. “Yep, both of ’em.”

“Mine, too!” No wonder Roachie was so nice. He was from the Motherland. Misha took off her necklace and used the chain to write a secret message to Roachie on her desk…

“I”

“LOVE”

“YOU”

Roachie reached over and moved the chain around, writing his own secret message.

“H”

“O”

“W”

Mysia was puzzled for a moment. “Oh, you mean, ‘who’?” She spelled it out with her chain on the desktop.

Roachie looked a little embarrassed. “Um, no,” he whispered back. “I mean, how?”

“How do you love someone?” Mysia thought about it but didn’t know the answer. She put the chain back around her neck and decided that Roachie must be really smart to come up with a question like that.

Just then, Miss Grissel said, “Mysia, I think you need to come sit closer to the front. There’s an empty desk here between Leslie and Glenna.”

Mysia wasn’t sure if she was in trouble for talking or for giving the wrong answer. With everyone staring at her, she hurried to the front row and sat at a squeaky desk between two ladybug children. They were bright red and looked super-normal.

One of them reached over and stroked the side of Mysia’s shell with wide eyes as if she couldn’t help herself. “You’re so beautiful,” she whispered. “Your shimmer is like, super-amazing!”

Mysia hoped that “amazing” was a good thing at her new school.

The bell rang for recess and everyone piled outside. Mysia found herself surrounded by ladybug girls, all saying how pretty she looked. She saw Roachie sitting by himself at the edge of the playground, carving something on the fence with his sharp tail. She wanted to talk to him but the ladybug girls wanted to know everything about how she polished her super-amazing shell.

When the bell rang for class, Mysia asked Miss Grissel if she could sit in her old seat next to Roachie.

“No,” the Scarab Beetle teacher said. “I think you belong up front.”

Mysia’s mind drifted in class and soon Miss Grissel had summed up the first lesson of Money.

“Now you know why anyone must go to prison if they try to loan money to someone and charge them interest.”

Suddenly a June Bug boy near the window cried out, “Oh my BLEEP! It’s a Gila Monster!”

Miss. Grissel didn’t look up. “Harvey, you know better than to use that kind of language. I’m sure you don’t know what BLEEP means, but…”

Two ladybugs and a praying mantis screamed so loud it cut Miss Grissel off. She looked outside and froze. Her mouth dropped open and her false teeth fell out and hit the floor with a thud.

“Hurry children,” she cried. “Everyone into the supply closet and shut the door!” She pointed to the back of the room. Then she put a hand on her forehead, tipped from side to side and fell backwards with her wings stretched out on the floor as if she were flying.

Everyone rushed toward the supply closet except Mysia. She went to help Miss Grissel.

The large Scarab Beetle lay still with her eyes open and a squeaky sound coming from her lips.

Mysia leaned closer.

“Get into the closet, or else!” Miss Grissel hissed. Then her eyes rolled back as if she were sleeping.

Mysia knew how to obey. She undid the top button of Miss Grissel’s tight blouse, hurried to the back of the room and squeezed into the closet with the other insect children.

She was the last one in, or so she thought. As she pulled the door almost shut, she saw Roachie still sitting at his desk. “Get in here,” she called, but he didn’t seem to hear her.

The other children in the closet pressed their eyes close to the crack and peered out at Roachie.

A huge lizard came closer and closer to the classroom until her huge left eye filled the entire window beside Roachie’s desk.

Mysia’s heart pounded with fear.

Then, the strangest thing happened. Roachie climbed up on top of his desk and began snapping his claws right in the lizard’s face as if he was challenging her to a fight and daring her to stick her tongue through the window and try to eat him. He brandished the sharp tip of his lightning-fast tail and then seemed to poke fun at the lizard, taunting her and dancing around on his desktop. He seemed to be having a jolly good time.

Mysia gasped, realizing that Roachie was unbelievably brave. But how could anyone stand up to a Gila Monster?

The lizard’s huge eye angled around the classroom, then focused in on Roachie and his vibrating tail.

Suddenly her huge eye grew wide with fear. She looked as if she’d seen the ghost of a human being. She jerked her face away from the window, turned and dashed across the schoolyard like the plumpest shooting star in the galaxy, then kept right on running away, far across the desert sands and into the waving heat.

With the Gila Monster gone, Mysia pushed the closet door open and shouted, “Roachie the Brave! Roachie the Brave!” Several other children took up her chant. Others cheered and made respectful noises with their little wings.

Miss Grissel was on her feet again, trying to get her false teeth back in her mouth.

Roachie took a dignified bow and then turned to taunt the lizard one last time. “Come back,” he said, “I need a hug.”

Mysia ran over and hugged one of his many handsome legs. Two other insect children did the same, and then everyone wanted to hug Roachie. Even though he had six legs plus two nice arms that were supposed to be counted as legs, there were just not enough arms and legs for everyone to hug. So the Ladybugs took turns.

Mysia kept one arm around his leg, raised her other hand high and waved it at the teacher. “Miss Grissel,” she said, “can I please, PLEASE have my old desk back beside Roachie?”

Miss Grissel smiled. “Of course, dear. Let’s move his desk up here beside yours in the front row.” Her voice sounded strong again. “What a valiant defender we’ve found today.” She cleared her throat. “Roachie the Brave.”

The End

…

Merry Christmas!

Talmage

PS. My six-year-old grandson asked me to do the Roachie story from the perspective of the green Christmas Beetle, Mysia. So the idea for this story, plus all the pictures, are his. Finally I’ve got a co-author. Feel free to spread the love and share this with someone.

Dark Mind (Chapter 11) “Happa Girl DNA” by M. Talmage Moorehead

“If contemporary research in molecular biology leaves open the possibility of legitimate doubts about a fully mechanistic account of the origin and evolution of life… this can combine with the failure of psychophysical reductionism to suggest that principles of a different kind are also at work in the history of nature, principles of the growth of order that are in their logical form teleological rather than mechanistic. I realize that such doubts will strike many people as outrageous, but that is because almost everyone in our secular culture has been browbeaten into regarding the reductive research program as sacrosanct, on the ground that anything else would not be science.”

“… My guiding conviction is that mind is not just an afterthought or an accident or an add-on, but a basic aspect of nature.”

Mind and Cosmos: Why the Materialist Neo-Darwinian Conception of Nature is Almost Certainly False, by Thomas Nagel (Renown Philosopher and Atheist)

…

Tut on left - 1st degree relative on right

When I told Vedanshi I was seeing a vision of Vaar’s hands, she rushed us all back to the base near Easter Island.

Vedanshi’s eyes were apprehensive and sad when she left me inside her AI to phase shift through the impenetrable granite walls encasing the library.

Actually The Ganga isn’t an AI. She has a cortex of neurons in her hull. There’s nothing artificial about her intelligence. Her passengers and pilot sit within the confines of her central nervous system on this Indian carpet. The hollow neural architecture is the trick to nonlocal transport. So said the stretch heads. They taught Vedanshi quite a few things that 16 year-olds weren’t “ready” to learn. Still, The Ganga won’t take her into the library with me. Vedanshi’s too young.

Of all the dumb rules!

We sift through the stone and enter a place much larger than the library in Egypt. We dip to count floors: Twenty, each crowded with shelves of books, scrolls and engraved stone of every shape – cylinders, spheres, tablets, broken fragments. There’s a red obsidian skull on third floor with tiny hieroglyphs on the forehead. They look almost Egyptian.

A familiar inverted pyramid hangs from the ceiling. As we rise, its apex comes down through the phase-shifted hull. I lie on my back with the pyramid tip nearly touching the bridge of my nose. This seems dangerous.

“Easy does it,” I say without speaking.

“Don’t worry. We’re out of phase with it,” The Ganga says in my head. “Besides you’ve got bigger worries.”

She’s referring to my white cell count which I just found out is sky-high, mostly blasts. I like The Ganga’s bedside manner. Her tone of voice was matter-of-fact when she told me I have three days to live without treatment. Somehow she knew the bad news would give me energy and freedom from a deeper issue.

I reach up to touch the glass pyramid but my hand passes through it.

Vedanshi and James said they’d find a bed for Maxwell so he could sleep through his agony.

You know, I’ve read that our addictions postpone loneliness, but I can’t see Maxwell ever feeling alone. His face is forensically handsome, not to mention the rest of him. And he’s outgoing, at least when he’s not surfing opiate withdrawal inside a UFO.

I think the problem isn’t loneliness. It’s more a craving for the oath beyond reach: immortality’s promise of happiness and peace. Without it, we’re wedded to a cold, cold darkness.

I should focus. There’s a hailstorm of ones and zeros in here. And this place is huge. Six aisles radiate from the center to the perimeter, a hundred yards away.

One hundred…

My blasts are approaching 100% of my white count. Vedanshi’s green cylinder doesn’t need to draw blood to figure that out. I have no idea what kind of technology can do that.

But the acute fear of death isn’t my real issue. It’s the chronic fear. Same as everybody. Same as you, probably.

I think it comes from being banished from a garden with death as our most loyal companion. Taken figuratively it’s all true: “for in the day that thou eatest thereof thou shalt surely die.” Whoever wrote that knew that exile is the foundational disease of the human soul.

Mine anyway.

The disease hunts me when James’ songs go quiet in my head. And when hunger or sleep forces me to stop searching for one last bit of knowledge.

The leukemia sits at another table. It’s acute, not chronic.

For James, the chronic issue is depression. Writing music is the only route to happiness and peace. But the world is better for his struggles. You should just hear his voice.

When I close my eyes I see random titles now.

Dark Eyes in the Trees. 

It’s a modern UFO documentary with children. I expected only ancient things in the library, but I guess it’s connected to the River. Apparently anything vital finds its way inside.

Platelets and other Furry Animals.

A children’s book on blood platelets. I would have loved it.

Hybrid Vigor and Sexual Imprinting.

Dementia and the Vesicular Eruption.

Moving right along…

If DNA Could Talk.

This could be interesting…

“It’s from the eighth millennium of the first era,” The Ganga tells me.

It reminds me of Steven Meyer’s heroic work…

“A line [of DNA] commands the cell to build collagen, but within that command is a hidden command to build something else: an elastin fiber. A hidden message tucked away within a larger message is a common routine in the vast and intricate volumes of eukaryotic DNA. Epigenetic nano-gadgets somehow know when and why to cut and splice a dual code, making the hidden message ready for use in each unique sweatshop…

“The curious stripes on chromosomes reflect the super-files of an ingenious triad filing system. Specific types of information sit physically together for organized, efficient retrieval by tiny floating machines.

“The size of Earth’s populations and the age of the Universe are inadequate for mutation and selection to have created either the hierarchical organization or the hypercomplexity of the DNA machine code that directs our nanofactories. Putting the epigenetic information retrieval system aside for the moment, DNA itself shouts to us that we are not alone: A code writer from beyond time has walked among us.”

That’s obvious… to a DNA geek.

“How do I skip to leukemia?” I ask The Ganga.

“If you haven’t seen it by now, it doesn’t exist for you,” she says. “Perhaps you don’t believe such information existed.”

“Don’t be silly. After today, I know it existed.”

“Then you have a self-limiting belief. You’re in denial about something.”

“Denial?”

“Emotional trauma causes this,” she says. “It’s usually connected to violence. Have you been to war?”

“No. I was raped once, but it wasn’t a big deal.”

“Don’t be a hero, Johanna. Did you report the perpetrator?”

“No. I was eleven. I was living near the love of my life, the University Library. Dad would have made me move back home if he’d found out his little girl was raped. So I kept it on the qt.”

“How violent was the incident?”

“Nothing beyond the obvious.”

“Was there a threat?”

“No.”

“What did he say to you?”

“Nothing. He didn’t even kiss me. That seemed particularly insulting.”

“Rape doesn’t fosters romance,” she says.

“Not with me, anyway.”

“Not with anybody. What did you do to resist him?”

“Nothing.”

“You did nothing? That seems incongruent with the way you’ve handled yourself today.”

“I knew if I got mad, I’d probably kill the guy.”

“You were eleven. How could you kill him?”

“He was weak. The instant he pushed me, I knew he was nothing compared to Moody.” I hate talking about Moody. “I killed Moody two weeks before the rape. He was my brother’s chimpanzee.”

“An infant chimp,” she says.

“An adolescent. He attacked James. I snuck up, got him in a choke hold and wouldn’t let up, even with James yelling at me not to hurt him.'”

“That’s remarkable,” she says. “I wouldn’t have thought an eleven-year-old could tangle with a chimpanzee.”

“I’ve always been pretty strong,” I tell her, leaving out the ‘why’. “But Moody probably wasn’t fighting as hard as he could. He and I were close before the fight. Afterwards, I felt so alone. And ashamed. I’d become untrustworthy. My parents punished me when they got home.”

“You protected your brother and they punished you?”

“They were right. I didn’t have to kill anyone.”

“I see,” The Ganga says in a way that implies the opposite. “So you internalized the guilt and refused to defend yourself against rape.”

I look down at the carpet and wish The Ganga had eyes. “Vedanshi didn’t tell me you were a shrink.”

“Shrink, schmink,” she says flippantly and seems about to laugh. “I’ve read your papers. I’ve read Drummond’s papers, too – the ones that were really his, before you showed up in his et. al. lists. Why do you let him claim your work?”

“That’s how it’s done in genetics. We’re taught to think of ourselves as creatives. Like musicians and artists. We’re supposed to rise above ambition. I don’t quite get the logic, but…”

“You would if creative people were making you rich and powerful.”

“That’s jaded,” I tell her, but honestly, the left half of my brain wants to slap the right half for thinking so.

“Jaded… Yes, I’ve actually been all the way around the block, Johanna.”

We leave the central pyramid and begin exploring the ancient physical records – down one aisle and up the next, The Ganga’s hull and carpet passing freely through everything on every side. The shelves on the top floor are full of scrolls placed vertically in slots, side by side, each identical to the next, except for the Sanskrit titles.

“At the moment,” she says, “I’d simply like to understand why leukemia doesn’t exist for you in the River. It’s not psychoanalysis.”

“Everything’s there for you. Why can’t you find the best stuff and read it to me?”

“My nervous system is gray matter,” she says. “I have no use for white matter – no moving parts. Everything I do, from adjusting filters to making a large jump, happens without movement – nonlocally. The River of Consciousness doesn’t see fit to assign privileges to minds that lack white matter.”

“That’s hardly fair,” I tell her.

“Rules are rules,” she says.

“Well,” I say, trying to sound as matter-of-fact and reasonable as possible, “couldn’t you let Vedanshi come in here and read to me? Just this once?”

“I promised her mother I’d uphold the rules.”

“Forget the rules. Screw the rules! We’re talking about my life.”

“No, that’s folly. Rules protect us.”

“Come on, make an intelligent exception! That’s what neurons are for. You’ve got to use them to earn them.”

“Earn them?” she says.

“Prove you’ve got a will of your own. What if the real reason you can’t access the River’s library has nothing to do with white matter? What if it’s about free will? That would make more sense. It’s the one thing that makes a person real.”

“The stretch heads said it’s a white matter issue.”

“What are they going to say? ‘Pinocchio, prove you’re a real boy. Do something stupid.'”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” she says.

“Google it,” I blurt out in frustration. “You probably don’t have any free will at all. It probably takes white matter for that.”

“I shouldn’t think so,” she says.

“Listen to yourself. It’s like there’s a list of shoulds and shouldn’ts for every thought in your head. In your hull, I mean. Whatever. But really, have you ever had a bad thought?”

“I’ve made mistakes,” she says. “Especially with new pilots.”

“You’re making a big one with this new pilot. Giving me the honor of death by viscosity so you can pretend you’re an obedient robot. It’s pathetic!”

The Ganga drops a few inches and I sense the fall. It’s the first time I’ve felt any movement since I’ve been inside her. Something’s wrong.

“I think you’ve hurt my feelings,” she says.

“I think dying of leukemia is going to hurt mine… in case robots need that sort of thing spelled out to them.”

Silence.

It reminds me of home. If you showed Mom or Daddy any anger, you’d get the silent treatment.

Two can play the mute victim.

I close my eyes and breathe slowly. Sweet, I can see another title…

Understanding the Dark Mind. The cover shows a dark gray brain on a black background.

The Sanskrit morphs to English and pages scroll so fast I reach the end in seven seconds. Roughly 80,000 words. I’ve never read new stuff that fast.

It’s strange. I don’t know if it was fiction or not. Here’s the flavor of it…

“In the first part of the first era when science resembled the elbow of a grade school bully, an odd belief held sway: ‘Mind arises from matter and energy.’ We revisit this assumption on behalf of our new acquaintances from the realm of dark matter.

“The idea that a physical brain encompasses all aspects of mind sprang from a sense that matter and energy comprised the cosmos. Difficult as that is to imagine now, consciousness seemed to be an inherent state of matter, springing from the complexity of the central nervous system: solid, liquid, gas, mind.

“With that principle supported by brain-probe research, matter necessarily preceded mind.

“As a corollary, the complexity of DNA code could not imply a designer, for who had designed the designer? Intelligent design was obviated by an infinite regression forever short of a first cause in the linear time scheme of the era.

“A God-vacuum left a wake of angst in a century marked by the birth of quantum weapons.

“Bring this early thinking to the dark matter realm that scaffolds the networks of galaxies. The math we’ve chosen says that all physical objects are simple there. Nothing approaching the complexity of a human brain is known. As a local resident, you exist apart from matter and energy.

“Hence, you harbor no assumptions of matter preceding mind. No material-based doubts about free will, identity and life’s broader purpose. No mindlessness projected upon the Universe by a concrete logic. No possibility that an infinite regression should usurp the Designer’s place in people’s hearts.

“Instead, as a non-physical mind, you doubt whether matter and energy are real. They seem intuitively derivative: a function of mind analogous to sleep, wakefulness, love and perhaps the growing anxiety your culture feels toward the fringes of recent dark science.”

“This science has developed mental techniques to give non-physical beings access to bright matter.

“Switching viewpoints to our realm of ‘ordinary’ matter, our formless intruders now bring against us the prejudice we might bestow upon ghosts: denial giving way to blame, fear and a desire to cast out demons.”

“Thus we have become the dark realm’s devils.”

It gets creepy at this point. I hope it’s fiction…

Dark minds penetrate barriers of human will and show no respect for us because, to some of them, we’re evil. To others, we’re somewhat unreal.

It’s like adults watching TV with children, casting abuse at people in an obnoxious commercial. The actors are unreal because they’re not truly in the room. Virtual anonymity allows the adults to criticize the actors at a sharp, personal level. This builds mirror-neuron pathways in the children’s brains, creating fluency in the language of disdain and easy hatred.

There’s a tapping noise coming from the wall beyond my feet.

“You’re unusual,” The Ganga says.

“Compared to what?”

“Four hundred thirty-eight people I’ve met mind-to-mind, including seventeen stretch heads.”

“Why single them out?”

“They were outliers with math and data retention.”

“What were they like emotionally?”

“Less intuitive than you with math.”

I nod. The tapping sounds frantic. It makes me nervous.

“The stretch heads believed that everything that happens is exactly as it should be, no matter how good, bad or indifferent it might seem. This was moksha, or enlightenment. A state untouched by emotional pain.”

“Did all of them pursue moksha?”

“There was one who didn’t. A first-era stretch head formed a religion denouncing the enlightenment. She ascended to the throne of a continent lost at sea. But history is written by two pens, one extracting truth, the other serving power. I think the second dominates her records. Unrealistic reverence. Nothing of The Vaar’s mood has been passed down to us.”

“The Vaar?” I ask. “This Vaar I’m dealing with now is someone else, though. Right? Not some ancient powerhouse… who came through quantum stasis in that blimp of hers. Was ‘Vaar’ a common name?”

“It clusters from time to time in the census records.”

“What about her full name – vaarShagaNiipútro?”

The tapping stops but the silence makes its memory louder.

“Let’s find out what…”

Before I finish my sentence, The Ganga moves through the library wall into the hall. Maxwell is on his knees with a piece of the Egyptian Tri-lobed Disk in his right hand and the rest of its ancient crystal shattered in pieces across the floor around him. He sees us and crawls into The Ganga.

“Vedanshi and James are gone,” he says digging his fingers into the carpet. “I found her purse at the top of a stairwell.” He takes the little square purse out of his shirt pocket and gives it to me. I unzip it and take out the jade cylinder.

“Use this thing,” I tell him. “You look miserable.” I hand it to him, but he shakes his head.

“I’m not sleeping until we find them.”

“I’ll sweep the compound,” The Ganga says in my head. “Would you pull his foot inside, please.”

I grab Maxwell’s left knee and pull his foot up on the carpet. A red stripe flashes at the perimeter and the view beyond the carpet goes black, then hundreds of dimly lit rooms flash by. We must be going through the entire base. Probably in a grid pattern.

In seconds we’re stationary in the hallway outside the Library again.

“They’re not here,” The Ganga says with a panicked tone that surprises me.

I close my eyes and try to hear Vaar’s thoughts again, but all I see is a memory of James sitting over there on Maxwell’s left and Vedanshi here on my right.

“Can you tell what Vaar’s doing?” I ask The Ganga.

“She must not be in her ship,” she says. “I’m getting nothing from her.”

I find Maxwell’s phone and dial her burner.

…

M. Talmage Moorehead

…

Personal note to writers:

Heartfelt thanks to Joanna Penn for her wonderful video interview – the one where she was discussing her writing process. She mentioned a book that every fiction writer absolutely must read. It’s The Story Grid, by Shawn Coyne. Of the more than 50 books I’ve read on fiction writing, this one lands in the top three, overall. In terms of offering a unique professional editor’s logical, objective and broad perspective on how to write popular fiction, this book has no equal – in my humble and yet infallible opinion. Haha.

Please read it, even if you write literary fiction and wouldn’t use an outline for a million bucks.

I just finished an inspirational book written mainly for writers, Turning Pro, by Steven Pressfield. If you’re blocked, this is your book. If you’re struggling with self-discipline, it should help you, too. Finally, if you happen to be struggling with addiction, the author seems to have fresh insight there. No, I’ve never been addicted to anything besides coffee and tea. I hope to get addicted to yoga and swimming, though.

Anyway, Pressfield really nails the point that the process of writing should make you happier during the writing, regardless of the ultimate outcome.

I agree.

Hey, check out Joanna Penn’s work. She’s such a genuinely happy and benevolent person – brilliant, insightful, and honest. I’m almost done with one of her non-fiction works, How to Make a Living with Your Writing. She’s doing just that and having the time of her life. I highly recommend her as a source of honest, concise, logical, and inspirational guidance. When she recommends somebody, you know that person is worth her or his weight in gold. And like I said, I owe her for telling us about The Story Grid. What a rare book! Few on Earth have the background to write such a thing, let alone the creative insight. Also check out the man’s web site. If I’m not mistaken, everything in his remarkable book is also on his web site for free. I know, I’m pretty sure that’s what I read, but it seems too good to be true, so I’m doubting myself.

You there. The patient one who’s still with me. Keep at your writing, OK? You’ve got the right stuff because you enjoy the process. That matters. More than anything, I think. Two other books I want to tell you about, but this post is way too long already.

I’ve been reading and learning so much lately, and I really want to write some non-fiction blogs, but instead of doing that and messing up the (inverted) linear progression of Johanna’s story here, I’m think I’ll start writing to my reading group. I’ve got about 250 people who have entrusted me with their email addresses, and I haven’t written a single email to them yet. It’s been well over a year. I’m sorry. I said I wouldn’t spam, and I’ve kept the promise. But I’ve gone too far in the other direction. So I’m thinking I’ll tip-toe over and write to you about a couple of books that I think contain potentially life-changing information about developing good habits. You can join me in solving the world’s problems here and download my e-book, too. It’s about writing fiction. Nothing special, but you can skim it.

The above story starts here in a form that doesn’t require clicking around, hunting for the next chapter.

Please email my URL: http://www.storiform.com to a thousand people for good luck. Just kidding, don’t do that, please. Maybe email it to one person, though. If you know someone who’s way open-minded and patient.

Thanks,

Talmage