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After they both came, I asked them for some time alone in "my" room. They left and shut the door. I poured myself another Gatorade cocktail to wash down my "protein" supplement, heh.
It was great fun serving my captors/hosts in such an intensely physical way, sealing my fate as Stockholm Marco, but I'm denied any sexual relief, which feels arbitrary. The memory bomb would only need the food trigger to be effective, wouldn't it? I'll have to eat food someday. But I could put off having an orgasm indefinitely, couldn't I?
Then I experienced another flash of unredacted memory, playing a game with my best friend in high school, who could go the longest without an orgasm. He won. I lasted 14 days before I remorselessly raped my pillow, remembering that teenage orgasm kept me on the edge here decades later.
Still, the other rules feel arbitrary. Why keep me naked but sexually frustrated? Why keep me isolated from the outside world?
Plus, Tate's questions from before ... especially how did I step outside the time bomb's bidirectional causality prison to construct the memory bomb, while suffering from debilitating PTTD symptoms that grew worse each day? And Chris reminding me that some people managed to commit suicide despite their compulsion to be present for the time bomb's detonation.
There must be competing, overlapping, independent bidirectional causation fields. But if this is true, then both the future and the past are stochastic, not deterministic. I've been flipped from being in Vancouver, to not being in Vancouver, on a particular date in the future. When I was going to be in Vancouver, I had PTTD symptoms, but now I'm not going to be in Vancouver, so I'm not having PTTD symptoms.
And just as the weather forecast for "Wednesday" changes as you move from Sunday to Tuesday, the forecast for whether I was going to be in Vancouver changed as I built and triggered this memory bomb.
Except I suspect this memory bomb wasn't my doing (if any of this is true at all). Oh, with my hacker skills restored, I know I could've built this thing. I can inspect it, inside my head, using my skills, all day long if I want. Looks like a real memory bomb to me. I can even talk with it, because it is sentient. An independent sentience occupying my brain, alongside my own sentience.
How many sentients can co-occupy a single brain? Especially if the brain is augmented with implants. How would they get along and settle disputes? In my own case, this memory bomb is firmly in charge, what I experience as "me" is a residual portion of the brain.
So why didn't I just blow my memories as soon as I'd constructed the bomb? Why create this scenario in which I'm essentially a sex slave, slowly starving to death?
Why am I here? To find an alternate solution? To which problem? Or is this truly my dying wish? Before blowing myself up, a week or two of Heaven with two of the people I cared about in my past.
I might survive for a few weeks without food, but I'll start having hallucinations and other severe physical and cognitive symptoms after a few more days of fasting. I don't have a lot of time to come up with a solution, if that's why I'm here. Chris suggested that having a limited amount of time & space, while frustratingly horny, would compel me to come up with my best solution. That all these memory bomb triggers were part of my plan for provoking a better solution from myself. A self-imposed existential crisis combined with frustrated desire = creative genius. The lack of food would short-circuit my brain, allowing some crazy wisdom to emerge, as though I were on a vision quest.
I need a way to make sure I'm not in Vancouver on that day, even if I change my mind -- which I will -- and would do literally anything to be there on that day. Which is why the current plan is to completely wipe my mind, in a way that will take years to repair. Tate suggested imprisoning me ... but he also suggested that I might be responsible for designing the time bomb myself ... and he's a smart kid ... what if I am, what if the time bomb compels me to design it, and wiping my mind means the time bomb never exists?
What if everybody suffering from PTTD, because they were present for the time bomb's detonation, is compelled not only to be present for the detonation, but to ensure that the time bomb exists at that point in spacetime?
We should technically call it Pre-Traumatic Time Disorder, not Post-Traumatic Time Disorder, because the detonation hasn't happened yet.
Time bombs could stochastically summon themselves into existence, once the technologies are available for their construction. Which means anybody suffering from PreTTD should have their brains wiped, so they cannot help to design the time bomb that will cause their PreTTP.
Yup, that must be the logic that brought me here. But now that I'm certain to have my brain wiped, I don't have PreTTP anymore. Is there some other way to keep me away from Vancouver, without wiping my brain?
Wait, did I really just imagine a world in which time bombs begin to summon themselves into existence merely because they could exist?
Then, there must also be anti-time bombs stochastically summoning themselves into existence, to fight the time bombs.
"Yes," said the memory bomb. Eeek.
On exactly which day did these stochastic time wars become possible? What was the technology or set of technologies? Ugh, it's not like I can stop those technologies from emerging. Imagine me going back in time, somehow, to warn the people of 2020 or whenever, that they need to stop inventing new technologies to avoid falling into a series of stochastic time wars, in which their minds will be drafted in service of the time bombs and/or the anti-time bombs.
Yeah. How am I going to solve this problem. And how much longer can I survive on Gatorade, vodka, and semen.
It was great fun serving my captors/hosts in such an intensely physical way, sealing my fate as Stockholm Marco, but I'm denied any sexual relief, which feels arbitrary. The memory bomb would only need the food trigger to be effective, wouldn't it? I'll have to eat food someday. But I could put off having an orgasm indefinitely, couldn't I?
Then I experienced another flash of unredacted memory, playing a game with my best friend in high school, who could go the longest without an orgasm. He won. I lasted 14 days before I remorselessly raped my pillow, remembering that teenage orgasm kept me on the edge here decades later.
Still, the other rules feel arbitrary. Why keep me naked but sexually frustrated? Why keep me isolated from the outside world?
Plus, Tate's questions from before ... especially how did I step outside the time bomb's bidirectional causality prison to construct the memory bomb, while suffering from debilitating PTTD symptoms that grew worse each day? And Chris reminding me that some people managed to commit suicide despite their compulsion to be present for the time bomb's detonation.
There must be competing, overlapping, independent bidirectional causation fields. But if this is true, then both the future and the past are stochastic, not deterministic. I've been flipped from being in Vancouver, to not being in Vancouver, on a particular date in the future. When I was going to be in Vancouver, I had PTTD symptoms, but now I'm not going to be in Vancouver, so I'm not having PTTD symptoms.
And just as the weather forecast for "Wednesday" changes as you move from Sunday to Tuesday, the forecast for whether I was going to be in Vancouver changed as I built and triggered this memory bomb.
Except I suspect this memory bomb wasn't my doing (if any of this is true at all). Oh, with my hacker skills restored, I know I could've built this thing. I can inspect it, inside my head, using my skills, all day long if I want. Looks like a real memory bomb to me. I can even talk with it, because it is sentient. An independent sentience occupying my brain, alongside my own sentience.
How many sentients can co-occupy a single brain? Especially if the brain is augmented with implants. How would they get along and settle disputes? In my own case, this memory bomb is firmly in charge, what I experience as "me" is a residual portion of the brain.
So why didn't I just blow my memories as soon as I'd constructed the bomb? Why create this scenario in which I'm essentially a sex slave, slowly starving to death?
Why am I here? To find an alternate solution? To which problem? Or is this truly my dying wish? Before blowing myself up, a week or two of Heaven with two of the people I cared about in my past.
I might survive for a few weeks without food, but I'll start having hallucinations and other severe physical and cognitive symptoms after a few more days of fasting. I don't have a lot of time to come up with a solution, if that's why I'm here. Chris suggested that having a limited amount of time & space, while frustratingly horny, would compel me to come up with my best solution. That all these memory bomb triggers were part of my plan for provoking a better solution from myself. A self-imposed existential crisis combined with frustrated desire = creative genius. The lack of food would short-circuit my brain, allowing some crazy wisdom to emerge, as though I were on a vision quest.
I need a way to make sure I'm not in Vancouver on that day, even if I change my mind -- which I will -- and would do literally anything to be there on that day. Which is why the current plan is to completely wipe my mind, in a way that will take years to repair. Tate suggested imprisoning me ... but he also suggested that I might be responsible for designing the time bomb myself ... and he's a smart kid ... what if I am, what if the time bomb compels me to design it, and wiping my mind means the time bomb never exists?
What if everybody suffering from PTTD, because they were present for the time bomb's detonation, is compelled not only to be present for the detonation, but to ensure that the time bomb exists at that point in spacetime?
We should technically call it Pre-Traumatic Time Disorder, not Post-Traumatic Time Disorder, because the detonation hasn't happened yet.
Time bombs could stochastically summon themselves into existence, once the technologies are available for their construction. Which means anybody suffering from PreTTD should have their brains wiped, so they cannot help to design the time bomb that will cause their PreTTP.
Yup, that must be the logic that brought me here. But now that I'm certain to have my brain wiped, I don't have PreTTP anymore. Is there some other way to keep me away from Vancouver, without wiping my brain?
Wait, did I really just imagine a world in which time bombs begin to summon themselves into existence merely because they could exist?
Then, there must also be anti-time bombs stochastically summoning themselves into existence, to fight the time bombs.
"Yes," said the memory bomb. Eeek.
On exactly which day did these stochastic time wars become possible? What was the technology or set of technologies? Ugh, it's not like I can stop those technologies from emerging. Imagine me going back in time, somehow, to warn the people of 2020 or whenever, that they need to stop inventing new technologies to avoid falling into a series of stochastic time wars, in which their minds will be drafted in service of the time bombs and/or the anti-time bombs.
Yeah. How am I going to solve this problem. And how much longer can I survive on Gatorade, vodka, and semen.
