Wednesday, June 24, 2020

The corona virus sage - chapter 47

"Yes, this is Howie Mandel’s manager. How can i help you?"

"Hello. This is the Secretary of the Treasury.  For the United States of America government.  Executive Branch. The guys in charge.  No pussies on our team."

"Sir, what an honor to receive a call from you. How can i help?"

"Well, here’s the thing, we need to get in touch with Jon Frum. And you guys seem to be the only people who know where he is."

"No sir, we don’t know where he is hiding in quarantine. Hiding under the protection of the Protective Services Branch."

"Well then how do you communicate with him to make the arrangements for the upcoming 3 part greatly anticipated by our glorious nation live television interview, 'A Conversation with Jon Frum', soon to appear on NBC.  We've seen the promos. They're everywhere."

"We use a Ouija board sir."

"A what?"

"A Ouija board, sir. It’s a special one.  StarGate material. It uses quantum interference to set up a remote communications link.  Apparently you can use them to communicate anywhere in the galaxy."

"What an odd way to do it."

"Well Jon Frum does has a sense of humor, that’s for sure.  Always going for a big laugh."

... big awkward silent pause ..

"Now why is it exactly that you need to get in touch with Jon Frum?"

"We need him to make sure the cargo from the StareGate gets here no later then the end of the second quarter. We need that economic stimulus to boost the economy, to provide an economic bump in that period before the next election.

Everyone needs to help the president achieve his objectives for the nation.  Re-election.  That's the objective.

We’re more than happy to make it worth Jon Frum’s time. To compensate so to speak. Blink. Blink. You get the idea. Right?"

"Yeah, yeah, sure. Of course.
We’ll tell him you called the next time we Ouija board with him."

...pause...

"And when will that be?"

"Hard to say sir.  ... long pause…

You know, it you’re in a big hurry, you could always ask FutureBook. They know where everybody is. Especially Jon Frum. They are very concerned about him. To be sure. Maybe even jealous.  Playing coy. But definitely on high alert.  Paying close attention.

So if you’re willing to make a bet with the devil, give FutureBook a call. Just speak up and ask for them anywhere. They’re always listening."


Meanwhile, deep in the middle of the Heartlands. In the exact center in fact.

R Zurkweil greats our 2 fine fellows at his front door.

"Gentlemen, please come in. I’ve been expecting you."

And R Z had in fact predicted their arrival 30 years ago. Using models and the laws of physics. And their impending arrival weighed heavily upon his mind the entire time there after.  Until now.

You could almost say that knowing it kind of fucked up living for him. A real thorn in your side. The curse of the gifted.

"Come in gentlemen. It’s cold outside, and we have much to discuss."

So in they came. To the lobby. Of a high rise sky scraper right there in the center of it all. It was kind of amazing and hard to believe when you actually thought about it at all.

R Z had the penthouse apartment of course. With a large rooftop deck as well. He led his visitors out onto the deck, and they surveyed the center of it all.  Spread out in front of them for a full 360 degrees.

"Quite a sight, isn’t it," said R Z.

"Yeah," said Bill. "These ain’t the cheap seats, thats for sure. Say R Z, what do you got in your liquor cabinet."

"No worries Bill. I predicted that as well. The bar is extremely well stocked. But i suggest you try the absinthe liquor.  Or a Mikey's Double Mouth."

"Don’t mind if i do, don’t mind if i do," said Bill, as he headed towards the bar. An open bar apparently. Yippee. Things were looking up today for old Bill.

"So, gentlemen. Please have a seat. Grab an iced coffee from the cooler. Have a breath mint. Take a load off your feet, and let’s get down to business.

As i’m sure you are aware, an entity has hatched an elaborate plan for us to meet at this exact time and place. And it worked. The Hidden Markov Model came through. Screw you deep learning neural net. Hidden State Markov Models eat your lunch every time. "

Bill stopped stuffing shrimp from the all you can eat shrimp bar to bring up an interesting point. "But R Z, if you do the math, aren’t they the same thing. Mathematically equivalent and all. Except DNN’s have a slicker, shiner paint job. Heavy on the wax and sheen. Dazzling to the eye to behold."  HSMM’s were kind of ugly if you were willing to be politically incorrect. They did not get invited to the prom. "How the hell do they even work anyway. Does anyone really know?"

"I know," said R Z. "I know."

He paused for a moment, then continued with the pep talk.

"And i will build a brain with them. And LetsGoSearch will pay me to do it. You’ll see. It will sneak up on you. You’ll go a year and nothing seems to change. A few more, the dust clouds of movement are just insignificant, a whole decade and you think to yourself, self, i’m going to win that bet against R Z because nothing has happened, nothing at all...

And then it happens. A singularity. Exponential change. It sneaks up on you. A cunning and crazy bastard. Working overtime to fuck with your noggin, which is built off of monkey spare parts and has a hard time understanding much of anything if you really want to be critical. But they tell us in sensitivity training not to, so there there baby boy, nappy time for you.

Well, my two fine fellows, i must tell you that time is almost upon us. And we must prepare for the inevitable, if we are going to survive.  And in order for that to happen, we need to get you two fine fellows to the future, pronto. Like quick, before it happens.

"Before what happens," said Bill.

"It's a tale so vast and full of strange interconnections you will barely believe it."


Meanwhile, on the other side of the globe, in Italy, deep underground next to the state of the art axiom detector vault, people were sitting up and taking notice in the control room. Things were happening.

Why was the axiom detector suddenly active? Suddenly lighting up like a christmas tree with a million giant bulbs burning bright on it, blinking like a hot neon sign, pulsing like a lighthouse sweeping out the message for all to see, yelling out the warning for everyone to hear, with a sign interpretor for the hearing impaired, because everyone needed to know about what they were warning about, especially you, too bad you were too busy collecting Gabby Cat memorabilia to notice.

The scientists in the vault in Italy did notice.  Not only did they notice, they got very excited.  They were ready to break out the champaign when some asked in a quiet voice, "Hey did you notice any defective Tritium hanging around in the test chamber?"

"Shit, get the detectors. Gotta check. That would be a major bummer."

"It would explain the urgent flashing, almost like a message. Tritium atoms lighting it up like flares in a napalm fire.

So close, Noble prize, so close."

"Oh relax. If there is a Nobel, your name won’t be on it. Just the old fat dudes at the top.

"Yeah, right.  Hey, just for laughs, what if we plot the activity of the pulses as a 2-dimensional image. See what they’re sending, us, ha, ha, right.

"Yeah sure, easy enough."Grabs a keyboard and does nerd stuff very quickly with it, lots an lots of typing, chewing of the lip, etc while doing so.

"Ok, here we go, gather round people, and behold the splender of…. what the fuck."

The image was of the word danger, in 467 different languages, with an arrow pointing to what really looked like a depiction of a StarGate. Or was it a figurative depiction of the center. Or maybe an old tire, it was hard to tell.

"Computer, enhance image."

"Shut up, it doesn’t work that way."

"So, what do we do now?"

"Yeah, i often ask myself that very same question.  What do we do now?"

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