 in memory of Samuel Chavkin (1927 - 2008) As psychoactive agents are ingested I enter a deep state & feel amazing love for the Guardian who brings euphoria to all connected to His Neural Array Doing this I have no qualms about destroying non-conformists & doing whatever the Guardian dictates The Guardian's Will is my imperative – individual thought is a needless waste Each six nano-seconds from the top of my spine I receive a blissful neurochemical spike Those unconnected to the Great Network can't imagine this delight The Guardian brings bliss to devotees: Those Who Serve Him Feel The Light.
Copyright 1997, 2008 by T Newfields. All rights reserved.
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Hear the author read this poem.
 Gus: |
Sound like science fiction? |
| Bill: |
Yeah. But if you look closely at trends in computer science, neuro-research, and government policy then this scenario isn't so far-fetched. |
| Gus: |
The George-Bushes-of-the-Future will love this. Autocratic systems feed off fear. Techno-autocracies may someday reach levels of sophistication we can scarcely imagine now. |
| Nadya: |
Well, human brains are hard-wired to seek bliss. |
| Liao: |
Perhaps so, but there's a price we pay for that seeking. If the quest for pleasure becomes all-consuming, the system becomes unsustainable. |
| Nadya: |
Maybe, but when it comes to human behavior, short-term desires often outweigh long-term counter-indications. If a product promises
short-term bliss, some people will go for it even if long-term consequences are negative. |