April 17th, 2011

Doksleepless

Eclipse Phase Character Diary: 1

 
Well... that was an abrupt introduction to this new century and to the new nature of mankind. While we're based in the asteroid belt we spent most of our time on Mars, Titan and an O'Neill platform. This whole 'swapping bodies' thing doesn't sit too well with me and, like the AI in our shuttlecraft, I bemoan the lack of decent in-system travel. The bodyshock of swapping bodies is not something I particularly care for. I have a feeling I'm going to have to invest in a series of bodies around the solar system - and beyond - along a standard model, to reduce my bodyshock. I may well split my personality apart and reintegrate periodically. There's just too much to this new world that I want to see, to do, to explore. The cheaper bodies also lack sensation, but a cheap solution to that is the tawdry 'pornobots' or 'pleasure pods' they have which at least come with a good sensory suite.
 
My unease at transporting my conciousness around - honestly I still wonder if all this is just residual electrical activity in my vitrified brain - has been made worse by our first investigation into 'ego-napping'. If a consciousness can be kidnapped, torn apart, retooled and used to 'patch' other, damaged conciousnesses, I'm not especially keen on making my consciousness vulnerable by beaming it left, right, up, down or wherever else.
 
This is also going to sound odd... but investigating a glorified kidnapping and 'organlegging' operation, however rewarding in terms of reputation and the goodwill of the anti-corp Barsoomians, seems a trifle... ordinary, when the other thing on our investigative radar is so much bigger. A stealthed wormhole gate, powered by a dangerous - and apparently massless - miniature protostar. That sounds far, far more exotic and interesting but then, perhaps, that's why the others seem reluctant to investigate it.
 
I'm not sure I'm cut out for this work, countering 'existential threats' (shouldn't that be eschatological threats?). I'm really not good in a fight and my contributions to the danger we've faced have been shooting a 'radio' and deliberately falling down the stairs. Not my classiest moment. Still, we put paid to the 'Asynch' who was behind the ego-nappings (words cannot express how disappointed I am to find out that Uri Gellar's nonsense has some sort of actual basis) and I have discovered that my knowledge, however patchy, of Pre-Fall Earth and 20th/21st Century pop culture is greatly valued. I have a feeling it's going to make me something of a minor celebrity, especially if I keep mingling with artists.

After being confined to the Earth for my lifetime it's strange how, already, being limited to the asteroid belt, to the solar system, feels confining.
 
Jon Darrow, signing off.
 
Babyboom

The Unforgivable Sin

 I don't believe in 'sin', so for me question becomes one of 'the thing that goes against my personal code of ethics or wellbeing that I cannot forgive'  and... well, maybe I'm too easygoing but I think just about anything CAN be forgiven. People do hurt me and have upset me, sometimes very badly. I have been treated very shabbily by certain people in the past, betrayed, lied to, cheated on, spectacularly dumped. None of this is unforgivable in and of itself.

To me this sort of thing only becomes 'unforgivable sin' when it becomes a pattern of behaviour. When you forgive... and are taken for a ride again, and again, and a third time. I seem to operate an informal 'three strikes and you're out' rule. I'm pleased to discover that this sort of behaviour (being reasonably but not too forgiving) appears to be optimal, according to experiments with game theory.
naughty

Recurring Dreams

 
I have had many different recurring dreams in the past. Running from shadowy suited figures (shadows in suits) down a BBC SF style corridor and not being able to get away, stuck as though running through molasses. Falling from a cliff and hitting the ground - and not dying - but laying there, broken until I woke up. One about a video rental shop with a skeleton behind the counter and hardly any videos... reliving embarrassing moments from my past.
 
Lately though, my recurring dream is one in which I am the owner of a vast seraglio, replete with beautiful women of all races, shapes and sizes and lush with potted plants, greenhouses, fountains and pools. The appeal is obvious, but why I should have this dream and why it seems to be from some indeterminate time and place, a mix of fantasy, reality, history and other oddness I do not know, but I dream it more often than anything else lately.