Book Review: The Andromeda Strain by Michael Crichton

 

I had almost zero expectations going into reading this book other than that Michael Crighton is a great writer and I enjoyed Congo a lot and I enjoyed the Jurassic Park movies. I could tell that it was about some kind of virus as the term "strain" usually means something bad and biological and there are lots of strains of viruses and viruses are on the mind of late. Based on the previous titles I was expecting some kind of action-adventure story but that is not what I found with this book. Instead, I was slowly taken on a cerebral journey through a subtle world of science fiction in a way that I haven't experienced before. 

The Andromeda Strain starts off in a small town where everyone but two people has died from a mysterious cause. Some of them have committed suicide while others choked to death and some had their blood solidify in their veins. The only survivors are a baby and an old man. The connection between the two unlikely survivors will become the key to understanding the solution to the problem. In an effort to understand this potential threat a covert government agency known as Project Wildfire is put into action. Project Wildfire was created for the purpose of preparing for the inevitable event that an alien lifeform, likely bacterial-sized, would end up on Earth and potentially cause a threat to humanity. Millions of dollars were allocated to the project which allowed for a state-of-the-art laboratory to be built in order to study and contain anything the potential threat had to offer. 

It turns out that something did hitch a ride on a government satellite and fell from space into the small town. The satellite is taken to the Project Wildfire facility and studied by the elite group of scientists selected for the project. From there it is up to the team of scientists to study this potentially life-ending strain of unknown life before it is too late. With nuclear protocols in place to destroy the town if needed, the facility if needed, and anything else, if needed, the scientists go to work around the clock to come up with a cure knowing that they will be left to die if they are contaminated by the unknown strain. 

Michael Crighton takes some of the most potentially boring material and makes it somehow extremely interesting. With historical fiction about the underworld of government activities adding to the intrigue and an immense sense of impending dread, the story is compelling without any of the typical action one is expecting. Scientific technologies and methods are the keys to saving humanity and are the real heroes here. Biochemistry, virology, biology, and physiology could easily bring boredom to a story but I found the writing made these technical things accessible and interesting. The story does seem a little slow at times but has good pacing that kept me interested throughout and by the end, I was on the edge of my seat for the climactic finale. 

I recommend this book to anyone who enjoys a more scientific mystery that is both thrilling and thoughtful. Michael Crighton put a lot of research into the science here and it shows. If you like biology, viruses, alien encounters, and government conspiracies this book is for you. With Covid 19 existing and permeating culture I am sure that this book might freak people out a little so if you have a hard time separating fact from fiction then this may not be the book for you but you probably won't admit it any way that so go ahead and read it. 

Read my Review of Congo:

 https://joesnotesblog.com/blog/book-review-congo-by-michael-crichton?rq=congo

Book Review: 1984 by George Orwell

I wonder how many reviews there are of this book? Probably thousands. So what could I possibly write or express that would be worth repeating? I can't expect to come up with something new to say about it. I'm certain people talk endlessly about the historical references to communistic countries like Russia and China during the first half of the 20th century. Places where millions of people were murdered by their governments. Where the media was manipulated to show the virtue of the system and the evil of the enemy. Where their leaders were venerated as living gods. Where anyone that was inconvenient to the regime was imprisoned, tortured, and eventually killed or left so broken that they couldn't recognize themself in a mirror.  

I shouldn't write about how the book shows a world where the government spies on everyone, which we just take for granted in the modern world. We joke about our Xbox recording us. Google thinks you're talking to it when your not. Alexa gives away all your secrets when the right question is asked. Snowden showed us how the US is spying on anybody it wants. 

A world where the government runs the schools and convinces children to spy on their parents. That's in this book too. 

What hasn't been said about this book? What about the fact that it has a very stirring romantic plotline? A vision of secret love, torn asunder by the needs of the many. A love destined to fail as it represents the thing the system can't have. What's the point of life if love is forbidden? Can love break through the pavement like a flower or does it get the same poison as the rest? What can I say about this book that hasn't already been said?

It's written in a way that seems like the ride at Disney Land where the song "It's a small world, after all" plays continuously while you slowly float down an artificial river in an artificial world. Where little men and women pretend to be happy and wave to you but you know deep down they are just pawns in a system that would toss them aside the first time a gear breaks. The book leads you into a world that is not unlike the world you live in but for the ever-looming judgment of a confusing master. A perfect master that demands eternal obedience, and adulation. A master that demands that not only do you obey but that you believe. 

What can anyone say about this book, other than that it is dark, mesmerizing, and a third adjective hitherto unknown. Other than that there is nothing. 

I guess I could add something about the way this book made me feel. That's not something anyone else can know. While reading I felt anxious for the characters as they tried to skirt around the surveillance system that seemed to be everywhere. The worst crime in the book is thoughtcrime where one's thoughts are rebellious to the state. I hold skepticism in high regard and this book reaffirmed in my mind the need for the freedom to criticize the government and any other institutes with power over people. 

By the end, I also felt hopeless. The author does not lead one down a path toward redemption. It is a true tragedy in that there is no hero and no resolution. I think that the author intended for the book to act as a cautionary story of the dangers of seeking power, especially on a global scale, and of the dangers of giving power to institutes to dictate right and wrong. 

Or... Maybe freedom is only an illusion and no matter where you are or who you are you are just a pawn to a system that emerges from elements that no one controls directly. A system that is built on the momentum of history and the corruption of intentions. Or... maybe morality has to be fought for and subjugation should be met with resistance. I think that people naturally resist oppression but they are not always up to the task. Sometimes they need help from others that share their notion of freedom. The problem with righteous groups with righteous intentions is that they can justify force no matter how barbaric. 

Such a tricky game we play when we play with power. I liked this book and its message is important. I recommend it to anyone that is interested in political philosophy or fiction set in a dystopian future.   

 

An Educational Miss

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If kids can vote at 18 and everyone thinks they should vote then why is there essentially no formal education related to political philosophy? They should also be practiced in evaluating candidates and understanding the process and its consequences.

There seems to be a gap between whose role it is to teach life skills and job skills. Formal education was originally a supplemental experience that would prepare one with a means to know how to do something valuable. Something that would ensure they get a skill-based job. I'm sure that it all originated with apprenticeships and other on the job training and then, in time, turned into more and more of an institutionally based endeavor. Education, it seems, has become bastardized by laziness, bureaucracy,  and politics. (Yet another example of how the government corrupts a good idea.)

More and more people started sending their children to school. This allowed them to get a head start on reading, writing, and math, which was becoming more and more of a necessity in industrialized nations. As occupations went away from farming, parents spent less and less time at home and needed somewhere for their children to be during the day. Soon, and with the help of the efficiency born of the factory, schools started taking up more and more of the role that parents once held.

Life skills were traditionally taught by parents by both modeling and direct teaching. Parents would teach their children about household duties, sex, religion, politics, and all the things that are involved in navigating once's culture. It was the role of the parent to truly prepare their children for the outside world and it was the role of the school to prepare their mind for fundamental cognitive abilities that would become financially viable.

Throughout much of American history, mothers stayed home and took care of household maintenance and fathers went off to work somewhere for most of the day. As women started joining the workforce and the government decreased the value of money through inflation in an effort to increase tax revenue children became more and more neglected. Now we have a situation where the vast majority of citizens live in the working class, which means that they typically need a two household income in order to pay bills. This means that there is less time to teach their children life skills and with schools teaching nearly everything under the sun, parents don't know what their children are missing. Also, because they were never formally taught modern life skills they assume that their children will learn as they did, just by doing it.

I think that we would all be better off defining the roles of both parents and educational systems. I think that the government's "free" schools should either provide life skills or not. If they are going to take on the role of educating the youth to create effective, successful and productive adults then they should teach the things necessary to accomplish this. This includes teaching skills such as sex education, finances, political philosophy, cooking, health, computers, typing, etc. If this was the case then this would be on the top of the goals list of teaching children job skills as well, such as math, science, geography, English and the like. This is a lot of work for the government and it seems that they are already in charge of much of this and yet don't seem to have a clear goal in mind. If you are going to take on the task of educating the future entirely then you should do it well.

If the government is not the right choice for the job of educating children in life skills then it would fall to either the parents or a private agency such as a private school. The nuclear family seems to be falling apart and one thing that is helpful about the nuclear family is it relieves the parents of some of the burden and allows for a more stable, nurturing and ultimately healthy environment for the development of a child's capacities. As single-parent households rise parents are more stressed, less attentive and more absent in their children's lives, leaving less room to teach life skills. Also, because the parent is struggling it does not provide a hopeful example for the child either. Why would a child listen to the advice of someone who is barely making it? They won't. They will go somewhere else.

Where do children go to learn life skills? Now, it's the internet. If they want to learn about sex they look it up online. Not just porn but articles about how to be in relationships. Or they just watch porn. Only the more intelligent look deeply into their own potential and seek out experts. Many just do as others do and will end up just like their parents even though they despise them. They look to celebrities and emulate their personalities in a naive attempt to become someone important instead of becoming themselves.

The world is becoming more and more complicated and young people have more possibilities ahead of them than ever. Even if parents take the time to teach their children they are most likely unaware of the current considerations that young people should be made aware of. Every year there are new technologies, industries, laws, and cultural mores that parents can't keep up with and therefore cannot educate their children in a way that will be relevant for them in the future. The government takes so long to update their curriculum and continually changes their standards that they cannot educate the youth in a way that prepares them for our complex and rapidly changing world. It makes sense that so many young adults (and many not so young adults) find themselves scrambling to understand the world that they are thrust into when they turn 18.

Waiting for people to "figure it out" on their own is terribly inefficient and wastes so much potential. Well before someone graduates, they should be immersed in the real economic world. Diverse and extensive job experiences before the age of 18 would help transition the young into the world that they are already a part of but are separated from partly out of necessity and partly out of fear. People learn from doing and so if you want people to understand the world they must experience it. For children, this is facilitated by adults and for teens, mentors can help transition them into the world. If parents don't take the time to mentor and educate their children then there will exist a gap between the real world and the insulated world of children. On the other hand, some children are thrust into the real world too early and are forced to engage in adult activities before they understand them.

Maybe companies like Youtube, Kahn Academy, Udemy and others will bridge the gap that exists but children don't know what they don't know and if they don't actively engage in educating themselves then they will go through the growing pains that most of us deal with when we have to fend for ourselves. While people make due and some will be very successful and some will fail miserably with the majority somewhere in between the world could be improved by taking education more seriously, not for the sake of the state but for the sake of humanity and freedom.

30 Days of Fiction: Day 24

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Password Unknown

I woke up the morning of the funeral in a melancholy mood. My friend Harry had died two days ago in a car accident and I was still in shock. Our last conversation ended in a shouting match and it had been two months since we had spoken. We had fought about his decision to go public with his newest work and I knew that it would not be met with the widespread praise that he had envisioned but he went ahead and launched it anyway. I couldn't wrap my head around the idea that he was really dead. 

A few days after our verbal dispute he had announced to the world that he was launching his new app that would allow anyone to unlock the real identity of anyone online. He called the app It's You!. The technology effectively rendered anything anonymous online no longer anonymous. I told him that there would be no end to the chaos that would ensue and that the government would take it over instantly. He had said that he didn't care what the results were because the truth was more important. Assholes, terrorists, racists, pedophiles and the like would no longer have a mask to hide behind online. 

He made the app free and created dozens of places to download it so that no one could shut it down. The application effectively ran on its own once it went live as it wasn't stored on a single server. He had hacked into all the major databases in the world, including governmental, communications and social media servers and used a complex algorithm to cross-reference IP addresses, personal information, typing patterns, personality matrixes, search histories and a slew of other information to accurately identify anyone's real identity, assuming they existed on a database somewhere, within minutes. The app only identified the account holders full name unless they were under 18, then the app would only give the person's first name. 

I don't know what he was thinking but in the two months since it's official launch governments around the world had arrested millions of people for child pornography, drug, and human trafficking, conspiracy to commit murder, and a thousand other crimes that people used anonymous online accounts to commit. The dark web was no longer dark and the cockroaches were scattering. Like I had predicted, governments around the world used the software to spy on anyone and everyone. They began to create new databases that linked accounts to real people so they could track their activity and find out what they were doing when they thought no one was looking. 

Also, people had started using the application to find out the real identity of the people they despised. Escorts, cam girls, and porn stars were being targeted and publicly shamed and sometimes violently attacked by religious groups. Communists, atheists, and anarchists were being targeted by the government and other groups for their beliefs. It was neighbor versus neighbor and a whole new world was beginning to emerge. One where people couldn't hide behind twitter bots and troll accounts. 

I wasn't too worried about myself, actually. After going to school for programming, where I met Harry, I had become burnt out by the hustle and bustle of city life and after ten years of programming apps with Harry, I decided to slow my roll, as they say.  I opted to stay relatively off the grid and moved into a small house on the beach. I had a computer and the dumbest phone I could find. I only had one email and since it already revealed my full name there was nothing for anyone to try to figure out about me. I now spent most days teaching woodshop at the high school and when I wasn't doing that I read, took walks, and led a very boring life. All that would change. 

I made myself some coffee and eggs and sat looking out at the ocean. It was a beautiful day and I wasn't looking forward to the two-hour drive into the city and all that waited for me there. I must have missed the delivery person because when I finished getting ready and opened my door to leave I found a small flat package waiting for me there. Inside was a laptop I recognized immediately as Harry's by the sticker that displayed the words It's You! in bright yellow over a red finger pointing back at me. 

I opened the laptop and immediately it asked for a password. I assumed that he had wanted me to get into it but he hadn't left me the password so I tried three things I thought might work but it locked me out for one hour so I gave up. I decided I would try again when I got back from the funeral and put it in a drawer and took off toward Santana Row. 

The funeral was massive. Harry had become very wealthy from two very successful apps, one of which I helped him with back in the day and was still a shareholder. At least two hundred people had come to witness the funeral including famous people from the tech world, world famous celebrities, and a few politicians. Harry had been quite the socialite and was always making connections. He owned a few companies, had two ex-wives and had traveled all over the world. It was hard to know which attendees were there because they loved him, hated him or were still trying to get something from him. 

I found Harry's mother who was the only person I actually knew. She was sobbing and held me for a long time at which point it all began to sink in and feel real. I started crying as she held me and we both just stood there for a while in silence. She had always been so loving and supportive and even after I left the business world we had talked on the phone and visited each other a few times a year. She had really helped me when my mother died a few years ago and I couldn't believe that it was just her and I now. I felt like she was my only family now. 

After we parted I composed myself and looked around. What I found strange about the funeral was that it was so dull. I knew that Harry had nothing to do with it because if he had it would have been a huge party. He would have been so disappointed if he had seen all the black tablecloths, suits, and predictable floral arrangements. If he had planned it this thing would have been at night, with a DJ and everyone would be dancing around his grave or something. 

None the less the funeral went as most do and a few people spoke about how innovative and controversial he was. His mother tried to speak but her sobbing didn't allow her to get more than a few words out. I would have spoken but I didn't know anyone there and I didn't care to reveal the Harry I knew to so many strangers. 

As the funeral began winding down and the crowds had started to thin out a man with a briefcase approached me. 

"My name is Craig Harper," the man said extending his hand. "Harry's lawyer."

I shook his hand and said, "My name is Ivan Lynch."

"I know. I need to talk to you about Harry's will," Craig said in a somber tone. He walked passed and I followed him to a small room. 

Inside the room, Craig opened up his briefcase and started pulling papers out. 

"What's this all about?" I asked. 

"Well, there is a problem with Harry's will," he said. 

"Oh. What is that?" I asked, curious how such a rich man, with such an expensive lawyer, would have any issues with his will. 

"Well, he never finalized it," the lawyer said. "We started drafting it up months ago but whenever I would bring it up he would brush it off." 

"Why are you telling me," I asked. 

"Well, you see. During our conversations, he had told me that he was drafting up his will personally, at home. He told me that he kept it on a secure computer at home and that he was nearly finished," Craig said while handing me a document. "This is the last email he sent me."

It was a print out of an email from Harry dated the day before he died. It read:

Dear Craig,

I am almost done with the will but I want my friend Ivan Lynch to look it over first. I will be heading to see him tomorrow and then we can finally finish this thing. You were right to keep badgering me but who knew that everything would go to shit so quickly. I guess Ivan knew. Anyways, thank you for everything and if you don't hear back from me soon it is because one of these lunatics actually made right by their threat. If that happens tell Ivan that the antidote is in the flowers and that he needs to find the key from the past. He will know what that means. 

You have always been a good friend even though I never treated you well.

Sincerely,

Harry Rios 

"You see. That is why I needed to talk to you," Craig said with a grave look on his face. "Do you know what that means?" 

"I have no idea," I said trying to wrap my head around the phrase the antidote is in the flowers and I need to find the key from the past. "What does that mean for his estate," I asked.

"Well, I only have a few days before the board's lawyers get annoyed with my stalling and begin to take control of his assets regardless of anyone's wishes. It is imperative that we get the will as soon as possible but I can't find it. I looked everywhere. Do you know where it might be?"

I looked at him for a moment skeptical about whether he could be trusted but after reading the letter it was obvious that Harry trusted him so I said, "Yes. I received his laptop by mail this morning. He must have known that something might happen and shipped it out ahead of himself. But I can't get into it. Do you know what his password might be?"

"No clue," he said looking concerned. "If we don't get into that laptop then it will be a feeding frenzy, Ivan."

"I understand. I will figure it out as soon as I can. I just need to think about what his password might be." I said to Harry's loyal lawyer. He handed me his card and I made my way back to my car. I rushed home in the driving rain almost ending up like Harry but I couldn't help myself. I had to get home to figure out the password and find out what this antidote was.

My mind raced with password possibilities as my car raced around the winding corners of the rural highway. Would Harry use a randomly generated password? No, I thought. Those weren't the best way. He would have used mostly letters because there are more potential combinations if you use letters. And he would have picked unrelated full words coupled with capitalizations and maybe a few symbols and numbers here or there. It could be anything. I just had to try. 

Hacking In

When I got home I slammed the door shut and pulled the laptop out from the drawer and looked at the prompt for the password. Not knowing where to start I decided to go into the laptop's troubleshooting software where I tried to search for some underlying information that would be a clue to what it might be. Everywhere I looked it just kept asking for the admin password but at one prompt I got lucky. In the section entitled Reset space where a password would be typed, I saw ***************** already typed in. I counted the symbols and saw there were 17 characters. Thinking I would get even luckier I decided to try to copy the text but when I clicked into the area they all disappeared. Probably a good thing as if I had hit enter it might have erased the entire hard drive and all the data might have been lost. 

Then I thought, why don't I just pull the hard drive out of the laptop and force my way into the files? So, I spent the next half an hour trying to find a small enough screwdriver to open up the case. I finally pulled the hard drive out and spent the next hour trying to find a device that would let me get the information off of the hard drive. Finally, in a box in the garage, I found an old USB hub that had a SATA port that I could plug into my basic computer and read the data off the drive but when I plugged everything in another password prompt popped up. 

"Fuck!" I yelled at the ***************** mocking me. Harry had password protected his hard drive directly. Of course, he had.

I spent the next few hours trying to hack into the hard drive with sheer guesswork. I wrote down each attempt but after a while, I finally gave up. There were too many possibilities and the only way to get it was to hope that Harry had written it down somewhere. So, the next morning I got up early and drove back into the city to visit Harry's house.

When I pulled up to Harry's mansion I noticed two black SUVs in the driveway. Harry would never drive a dull black SUV so I knew someone was there. As I walked up to the front door I noticed a small hole in the glass near the door handle and I stopped breathing. I felt fear bubbling up and stood frozen on the porch for what seemed like forever. After forever I smacked myself in the face, a trick I learned as a child but hadn't used in a long time, and came to.

As I walked back toward my car I pulled out my phone and with a shaky hand dialed 911. I inched closer and closer to my car as the operator's phone continued to ring and just as I heard, "911, What's your emergency," a loud crack broke through the air and the window of my car shattered next to me. I clumsily dropped my phone and instinctually spun around to see a man in a black suit pointing a gun at me. Another loud crack rang out and it felt like my left shoulder had been punched by Mike Tyson. I turned again and started running away down the driveway as fast as I possibly could, loud bangs going off in rapid succession behind me.

I could hear the SUVs' engines starting up and knowing that they would simply run me over if they could I decided to attempt to jump the fence to my left. It was a fairly tall wooden fence but I managed to pull myself over it just in time to hear the SUVs driving past. I crouched in fear on the grass listening for anyone that might be near and after a minute I realized that I was in Harry's yard blood dripping down my left arm. I pressed my hand hard against the wound and winced in pain trying hard not to make a sound.

After that moment of intense fear, I took a few deep breaths to calm myself. A tennis court was in front of me and up to the left was Harry's garage. I rushed over to the garage and broke my way in by breaking a window with a rock. Inside the garage, I looked around and found a first aid kit with hydrogen peroxide, gauze, and medical tape. I poured the peroxide on the hole in my shoulder, put a large clump of gauze on top and attempted to tape myself up as best I could while attempting not to pass out from the pain and shock.

After composing myself a bit from my intense self-doctoring I looked outside the garage to find that both the SUVs were gone. I hit the button for the garage door and rushed over to get my phone but it was not where I dropped it. The assholes must have taken it. I ran over to the front door and went inside to find that the house had been ransacked. Crude graffiti was painted on the walls and Harry's belongings were strewn about all over of the house. I looked around and saw a landline phone on the wall but there was no dial tone. Thinking that this might be my only chance to find his password I ran up the stairs to his office.

I looked around the room covered in papers, books and other mounds of clutter and noticed a small black notebook on the ground. Recognizing it as Harry's journal I quickly maneuvered around the mess and picked it up. As I began to look through it my heart stopped again when I heard a car pull up to the house. I slapped myself in the face again and convinced myself to move into the hall. To my relief, I heard a voice call out, "San Jose Police Department!"

I started back down the stairs and called back, "Yes. I'm here!" Naively thinking they knew I was a good guy even though I was in a house obviously broken into. I could see two police officers at the bottom of the stairs with their guns drawn. When they saw me I paused with the journal clutched against my chest.

"Stop right there! Put your hands up now!" One officer shouted.

I put my hands up holding the journal in one hand.

"Drop what's in your right hand now!" The officer commanded.

"I need this, sir," I said hearing my voice shaking.

"I don't care what you need! Drop it now!"

I dropped the book and waited for my next instruction.

"Walk slowly down the stairs to us and keep your hands up," the officer said in a slightly less threatening tone.

I followed the instructions and walked down to them. At the bottom of the stairs, they instructed me to turn around where they placed handcuffs on me even though my arm was obviously bleeding through the gauze bandage. They took me outside where they called for an ambulance and I told them the story about what had happened. The officers must have believed me because as the ambulance was pulling up they took my handcuffs off. They took my information down and told me they would follow up with me soon but that for now, I wasn't under arrest. I went with the EMTs to the nearest hospital where they treated my gunshot wound.

I was in the hospital about an hour and I was feeling groggy from the painkillers and loss of blood when a San Jose detective came into my room to ask me questions. I told him the same thing that I had told the other officer's about what had happened at the mansion but they had additional questions to ask.

"What do you think the men were looking for at your friend's house, Ivan?"

"I think it is related to the new app Harry released a couple months ago. The one that made it so that no one is anonymous online." I said.

"Yeah, I could see how that information might be valuable and how he might have created more than a few enemies. Anything specific they might have been looking for though?"

"Maybe Harry's personal computer," I said.

"Any idea where that might be?"

"Yes, I have it," I told the detective who looked surprised.

"Oh. Well, what's on the computer that is so important?"

"I think that the original code for the application is there and it could be the only way to deactivate the app and put things back to normal. Lots of people would want to get their hands on that code for many reasons." I told the detective.

"I think your right. You should be careful. Do you think anyone knows you have it?"

"Only Harry's lawyer and you," I said. "But it doesn't matter anyway because it is password protected and Harry is the only one who knew the password and he's dead now. And I don't think it is a coincidence that he died right before app went viral." I told the detective who was writing all this down in a little book. "That's why I need his journal that I dropped in his house today. Can I get that journal?"

The detective looked up from their little book and smiled. "You mean this book?" The detective said and pulled out Harry's black leather journal from out of the inside pocket of their coat and handed it to me.

"Yes," I said, dumbfounded that they had thought to get it and bring it to me.

"The officers thought this was yours so they gave it to me to give to you."

"That's great. Thank you so much." I said.

"Well, I think I have everything I need. Unfortunately, there isn't much to go on since so many people wanted Harry dead but this just became a high priority case and I will reexamine Harry's crash to see if there is any reason to suspect foul play there too." The detective handed me a small prepaid phone and their business card and said, "Take this. You said they took your phone and if they were stupid enough not to get rid of it we might be able to track it. Call me if you think of anything that might help me track these guys down and keep that on you just in case."

"Thank you," I said and shook the detective's hand before they left.

Sitting on the bed in the dimly lit hospital room I began looking through the journal and before long I found myself tearing up reading Harry's personal writings. I read for a while about his life before we met and about how his father left when he was in high school. He wrote about meeting me in the dorm on our first day at college and how he thought I was a pretentious nerd. Then he wrote about the time we almost got kicked out for hacking into the football scoreboard and posted everyone's GPAs. The last page of the journal explained how he wouldn't have been able to graduate without my help but how he never knew how to tell me. I started sobbing, my tears dripping over the pages.

After my moment of sadness, I tried to dry off the wet drops on the journal smearing the ink slightly but just then I noticed something about the lettering on that page. One letter in the middle of a sentence was capitalized when it had no reason to be. It was an E. I turned to the first page and started looking for any out of place capital letters. Nothing on the first page but a few pages later I found a conspicuous looking P and then a couple of pages later I found a Y. I took a pad and pen off a shelf and started writing the letters down as I found them. By the end of the journal, I had 16 characters that read PYTHONGOLD7QUIRE. I was one character short and as I was about to start over to find the missing character when the door opened.

A nurse came in to say, "How are you feeling?"

"I feel OK," I said.

"Do you have someone that can pick you up?"

"No, can you call me a cab?" I asked.

"Yes. I will do that. We need this room though so if you could wait in the lobby downstairs please."

"No problem," I said and gathered up my things and went downstairs.

In the lobby, I searched the journal for the last character and finally, after combing its pages I found one on the first page. There was a sentence with a pronounced dollar symbol. I hadn't noticed before because a dollar sign is normally large but this one had been traced over multiple times making it bolder than the surrounding letters. I wrote this down at the front of the set of characters and hoped that it was the right one. I stared at the password until the cab came.

I asked the cab driver to take me to Harry's address where my car was still sitting there with its broken window. I looked over at the house and saw the front door covered in police tape and thought about going back inside but decided against it. There was no time to waste. I cleaned off glass shards from the front seat and drove back home in silence.

The Antidote

At home, I slammed the front door closed, locked it and pulled all the curtains and windows shut. I checked the rooms, closets and behind the shower curtain but there were no suited men lurking inside to take me out. I went to the computer and fired it up making sure my the can of mace that I usually kept in a drawer was sitting within reach. I plugged in the hard drive and when the password prompt came up I tried the characters I had found in the journal: $PYTHONGOLD7QUIRE. The prompt quickly read out that it was wrong. Next, I tried only capitalizing the first letter of each word and with that, the prompt disappeared leaving the naked file system.

I opened the folder called Users and started to read the folders. I opened one marked personal finances and started to open files. One file showed all of Harry's bank account information including which banks he used, the account, routing numbers and contact info of who he preferred to deal with. Another file showed a list of his actual investments and contact information for his financial advisor. Harry had millions of dollars in businesses, stocks, bonds, and real estate investments. Then I found a file called All the Marbles. This file showed a breakdown in the form of multiple pie charts, spreadsheets, and graphs of Harry's entire estate from assets to liabilities. At the top was a large green label the read NET which showed how much he was worth at the last calculation. The number showed 125 million dollars!

Still looking for Harry's will I looked through more folders and files until I found a folder marked xFor ILx at the bottom of the list. Inside this folder, there were two more folders. One was entitled Will and Testament and the other was called The Antidote. I opened the Will and Testament folder which contained one document with the same title and found that it was a PDF copy of a notarized document dated the day of Harry's accident. I skimmed through the document and found that he left a large sum to his mother, another large chunk to his ex-wives, and a large chunk to a set of charities. As far as his stakes in his app and other businesses he left to me making me majority shareholder in his current app company worth millions of dollars as well as a partial owner of many other smaller companies. He also left me a lump sum of 5.2 million dollars.

With my heart beating in my chest I quickly made a copy of the entire hard drive onto my backup external drive and an additional copy of the xFor ILx folder to my computer and to my cloud storage. I password protected the folder in each case and used Harry's journal password but added the number 1 after it just to make it my own. I emailed the Will and Testament file to Harry's lawyer and then opened the file marked The Antidote.

When I opened the folder I found the entirety of his work on the It's You! application. His code, encryption keys, algorithms, government database backdoors, and hacking information. Looking at the long list of files and folders I came across one marked Killswitch. I opened the folder and read the ReadMe file:

In the case that the It's You! application should need to be terminated utilize the program "Killswitch" to activate a total system format. This program will activate a worm that will find any and all It's You! data stored anywhere in the world and delete it. This should only be done if the owner of this file deems the It's You! application to be the cause of more harm than good. Once the Killswitch program is enacted it cannot be undone. Use with extreme prejudice.

I read over the file one more time and sat thinking about whether or not to enact the Killswitch worm. Ever since the It's You! application had gone public it had definitely caused harm to those who deserved a safe place to express themselves even if it was in a way that the majority deemed unacceptable. On the other hand, it had also brought many evil people to justice. It had created a kind of online purge that brought those with something to hide, for good or bad reasons, out of the shadows. It was a blunt force tool that I wasn't convinced was the right way to solve the world's problems but I also had to admit that such power in the hands of the people was potentially better than leaving such power only to the government. 

My cursor hovered over the Killswitch icon for a while when I heard a knock at the door. I nearly jumped out of my seat with fright. I grabbed my can of mace and slowly walked over to the door. 

I called out, "Who is it! I have a gun!" I waited for an answer and when it came I recognized the voice and my heart skipped a beat. 

From behind the door came the voice of my dead friend Harry, "You don't have gun you fucking liar! Open up. We need to talk." 

Thoughts On Power

There are two types of power that groups attain. The first comes from the power of physical dominance. This power is where "might makes right" and is the source of the government's power. Then there is the power that comes from wealth. This is the power that comes from trade. Capitalism has created financial powers that rival that of nations and while both are corruptable only one source of power is rooted in volunteerism. Because the government's power comes from the threat and enacting of force it's power is predicated on violence and subjugation. What can we do to fight the corruption that a system based on violence and subjugation creates?

Can we protest? Can we revolt? Can we withdraw support?

Then, we look at the corruption that arises from the capitalists such as fraud, subjugation, and manipulation. What can we do to fight this sort of corruption?

Can we protest? Can we revolt? Can we withdraw support?

To protest is to speak out to others and expose corruption.

To revolt is to enact force and violence which tends to result in more destruction.

To withdraw support is to cut off the source of the corruption's power.

Capitalism is fundamentally the free exchange of value and has the potential to create good, bad and neutral moral outcomes. Strip it of its corrupt bits and you are left with a voluntary system where both members must agree and therefore have the opportunity to end up mutually better for the exchange.

Governments exist to consolidate power and enforce an order. They rely on compulsory adherence and contain a range of involvement from its people from few to many. From dictatorships to democracies they are all based force. Strip away a government of its corruption and what do you have? I'm not sure you can strip corruption away from a system predicated on violence. I'm also not sure how to ensure the free exchange of value without an agent enforces the rules of free exchange. I'm not sure one exists without the other. Even a black market has to have some arbitrator of disputes or do they simply resort to violence? So then the black market is a hybrid between a free market and a collection of small sub-governmental factions (the mob, gangs, etc...) fighting for capital.

Ultimately it comes down to individual interactions. When a person decides to engage in violence as a means to an end they are choosing a chaotic position. One that if it were to be made universal would justify violence for all. If one chooses to engage in free exchange then they are choosing a peaceful moral position. One that if it were made universal would justify peace for all.  How do we get more to engage in free exchanges of value (volunteerism) instead of violent exchanges? How do we get nations to choose peace? Are the "better angels" of our nature going to win out or has humanity always been a back and forth between chaos and peace?

Is violence the opposite of order or is it how order is attained? How do we know if the violence is justified? You would hate to find out later that you were on the wrong side of history. That your war was unjust and that you created more suffering and misery.

Where does pacifism lead? To never defend your self or others seems to allow evil to rule. But if after evil takes power they create order then does it cease to be evil? How can something founded on evil actions not be corrupt at its core and inevitably lead toward more evil?

Is the existence of the nuclear bomb the inevitable outcome of the struggle between chaos and order; peace and corruption? Representing the pinnacle of control and power over nature and each other. Or is it just about defense and survival and there is no evil. There is only to live and die. For what wouldn't you do to protect yourself and loved ones? What is evil when it is life and death? One can not be an angel if one is dead. But the same is true of devils.

Some Info On The Selective Service System

From Wikipedia:

"The Selective Service System is an independent agency of the United States government that maintains information on those potentially subject to military conscription. Virtually all male U.S. citizens and male immigrant non-citizens between the ages of 18 and 25 are required by law to have registered within 30 days of their 18th birthdays[2][3] and must notify Selective Service within ten days of any changes to any of the information they provided on their registration cards, like a change of address.[4] A 2010 GAO report estimated the registration rate at 92% with the names and addresses of over 16.2 million men on file.[1][5] However, the only audit of the addresses of registrants on file with the Selective Service System, in 1982, found that 20–40% of the addresses on file with the Selective Service System for registrants in the age groups that would be drafted first were already outdated, and up to 75% for those registrants in their last year of potential eligibility to be drafted would be invalid..."
"Failure to register
- en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Selective_Service_System
In 1980, men who knew they were required to register and did not do so could face up to five years in prison and/or a fine up to $50,000 if convicted. The potential fine was later increased to $250,000. Despite these possible penalties, government records indicate that from 1980 through 1986 there were only 20 indictments, of which 19 were instigated in part by self-publicized and self-reported non-registration.[48]

A principal element for conviction under the Act is proving a violation of the Act was intentional, i.e. knowing and willful. In the opinion of legal experts, this is almost impossible to prove unless there is evidence of a prospective defendant knowing about his obligation to register and intentionally choosing not to do so. Or, for example, when there is evidence the government at any time provided notice to the prospective defendant to register or report for induction, he was given an opportunity to comply, and the prospective defendant chose not to do so.

The last prosecution for non-registration was in January 1986. In interviews published in U.S. News & World Report in May 2016, current and former Selective Service System officials said that in 1988, the Department of Justice and Selective Service agreed to suspend any further prosecutions of non-registrants.[49] No law since 1980 has required anyone to possess, carry, or show a draft card, and routine checks requiring identification virtually never include a request for a draft card..."

This is a link to a short documentary I produced about the Selective Service System. 

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_pgsiEUaFDg&t=2s 

Thoughts on Postmodernism

If Postmodernism can be characterized as a philosophy predicated on the denial of logic, science and reason, then by what standard do they substantiate their claims?

Without a standard measurement tool to judge the validity of a claim all claims are valid, therefore, in order to decide which claim should be followed one must rely on some form of scheme or model that becomes a mechanism to reach an ideal outcome.

There have been no better tools for exacting change in the world than those of the logical and scientific kind.

Why should I believe that logic, debate, math, science and capitalism are only tools of "the oppressor" without appealing to some attempt at a logical argument?

You can't just say that it is true because you say it's true. Then anything anyone said could be true. "That's a rock," one could say. "That's a tree," another might say. But if they are both pointing at the same thing and have distinct definitions of the words rock and tree, then both cannot be true. If there is any kind of truth it would be one that helped people navigate the differences between a rock and a tree.

The degree to which two people can communicate honesty and accurately is related to the degree to which they agree on the definitions of the words they use. In other words, the less agreement in definitions the more communication breaks down, and without rational discourse the only options left are fight, flight or submit.

If one person defines freedom as freedom to forcing others to act and another person defines freedom as the freedom from other people's actions and another defines freedom as freedom to act then a discussion on freedom between these people will most likely become contentious. Especially because they all prescribe their own boundaries of the others' precious freedoms.

In order to persuade others, in a world where the value of intelligence is increasing, you would be advised to utilize the tools of the intelligent.

A reason that Postmodern believers are achieving so much at certain Universities, in that they are achieving violence, suppression, destruction, etc., is because that type of behavior is strictly prohibited in the normal world outside certain Universities. The Universities that allow for mayhem to occur on their campuses are not setting a good example to their students about how the real world works.

In the real, working world, you don't get to foist your opinions on others by way of force. In order to succeed in a free market economy you have to get along and cooperate with others. If you want to use force then you will be met with force and if you break the law you will be met with an unbalanced return of force in order to swiftly punish those that cause violence.

If a Postmodernist were to propose laws that infringe on other's freedoms then they will be making the claim that their laws are just and lead to some ideal outcome. Luckily there is a mechanism for determining how strong this statement is. Unluckily though, the mechanism is logic, reason, science, debate and all the things Postmodernists believe are only tools of the oppressors.

Isn't someone who is currently oppressing others' freedoms, such as the freedom of association, freedom of speech, and freedom from violence, a tool of the oppressor?

If you want to fight oppression then at least fight the real oppressor, the government, not fellow citizens trying to pay their rent and shit. Taxes, unjust acts, wrongful imprisonment, corruption, etc., all all products of the governments around the world. What mechanism is in place to squelch these indiscretions in the government? At least in capitalism one can opt out of supporting a business regime they find destructive and immoral.

If words can oppress then any words a Postmodernist says can and will be used against them in the court of public opinion.

30 Days of Fiction: 7

That morning the silence was wearing on me so as to become an incessant distraction. It stalked me in the bathroom as I brushed my teeth with the new Multi-Morning Brush and Comb, in the shower with it's low-flow hyper-efficient technology, at the sink, with it's patent pending vibration ending metal and faucet and in the dead silence the electric car produced on the way to work. There were no longer sirens or car horns. Music was only allowed in ear and only at a low level set by the government and only approved music deemed acceptable for the public was allow. Even if I wanted to listen to what passed as music now I wouldn't since it was all just the same slow beat accompanied by a whining overtone of boredom.

At work everyone sat in individual cubuals where they typed using Anti-Clacking keyboards and only looked up from their screens to see what time it was. The massive clock on the wall was the only thing in the room that regularly made any noise with it's dull throng each hour to help people remember who was in charge. I sat down in the soft chair, my fat roles bunching up above my waist, and looked at the list of tasks due that day.

1. Cross reference digital data collection system protocols, for all criminal databases, with current data backup and recovery protocols and identify potential errors and log associate ID responsible.
2. Report associate IDs for any above identified errors to upper management.
3. Recover lost data, if possible and create file backups and restore protocols where dissolved.
4. More tedious bullshit!

I clicked on the number 1 and the program began to run and indicated a four hour wait time. While that ran it was now time for the daily intelligence and information gaming procedure, which seemed to have no end of content for disseminating information and mini-games that tested and developed intelligence in every domain. The news of the day was about how city crime was at an all time low of .2%, depression rates were at .01% and China was finally adopting the progressive Noise and Other Pollution Prevention Coalition after ten years of sanctions from 25 nations. The mini-games taught advanced math, science and English lessons with the use of frogs, bunnies and other furry and non-offensive creatures. Today's lessons were difficult enough and in no time four beats of the dull clock had passed, the program was ready for the next step and it was time for lunch.

Everyone stood up and waited for the announcement which came via a text prompt on both screens and after it arrived it counted down from 30 minutes. If the eye sensor didn't recognize your presence at your station when the clock hit zero you would be flagged as insubordinate and face a disciplinary hearing the next day. I walked into the cafeteria where the slight sounds of rummaging humans was almost audible, although I might have been making the sound in my head as everything in the cafeteria had been designed to reduce sound from any angle. From the noise cancelling soft floor, plates and utensils to the absorbent walls. People chewed quietly, never coughed, burped or farted and no one talked. Sometimes they would look at each other with blank expressions but mostly they just looked down making sure to eat just slowly enough to not make noise but no so slow as to be late back to their cubual.

I wasn't hungry that day so I just started walking around the cafeteria wondering around, looking at the faces of so many silent people dutifully eating their pre-made lunch portions as a sick feeling came over me. I didn't know what to think about it all and as I looked at them I realized that the silence I really feared was the silence that had arisen in my own mind. My mind had become void of judgement and understanding. Had life always been like this? If so, then what is this sinking feeling deep in my body telling me to fight, to run, to scream?

So I kicked a chair softly at first. The woman in the chair barely flinched so I kicked it harder. This time she stood up and opened her mouth but nothing came out. After a second of exchanging looks the woman sat back down defeated but I couldn't shake the feeling I had to do something. In my head I heard a voice say, "What are you gunna do about it?" Then, I kicked the chair again, only this time I hit the woman in the leg and a soft "uh," exited her mouth which she quickly threw her hands up to cover. Just then the silent doors to the cafeteria swung open and two men, in black jump suits, entered and made a bee line for me.

I stood there unsure of what to do but when they came close enough to grab me I was overcome with rage and yelled,"Whaaaaaaattt?" The two men stopped in their tracks. I couldn't remember how long it had been since I used my voice and it hurt to do so but it also felt amazing. The two men looked shocked as they probably hadn't heard anything like that before and didn't know how to act but they were resolute enough to start walking forward toward the monster that had asked a question.

I jumped up on a table and started to run toward the door, narrowly missing the grasps of the two men in black. In the hall, as I was running toward the stairway, I muttered the word, "what" over and over until all that I could do was cackle with laughter. The hysterical sound reverberated and echoed all throughout the stairway as I ran as fast I could could down the stairs until the outside world was only a door away. Stopping with my hand on the door knob I took a few deep breaths and then opened it and stepped out.

The world was quiet again. Only a few cars passed by, perceptible only by their bright blue or yellow chassis, with no one on the side walks as it was still lunch time and no one, except myself, looked up to see the amazing sun surrounded by a bright blue sky. I laughed until my neck and throat began to hurt from the strain from so such laughter and exuberance. With my arms spread out and tears running down my cheeks I felt a jerk as two men tackled me from behind, my face making a soft crash into the grassy sidewalk. The last thing I felt was a knee on my back and a pin prick in my leg and then the lights went out.

I woke up in bed some time later wondering why I felt so groggy and tired. Normally I felt refreshed and ready to go but now my back and neck hurt and I had slept in. I ate my normal pre-made breakfast portion, brushed my teeth with the amazing new Multi-Morning Brush and Comb and combed my hair with it and everything began to feel normal again. It was quiet as it should be and I'll just explain that I wasn't feeling well and they won't mind that I'm late, right? I made my way to the door when a notice flashed on the screen that normally just showed the time. It read:

1. You have been given a day off.
2. Please stay at home and come to work normally tomorrow.
3. Thank you for your service and get well soon.

In all my years I had never seen anything like that. Especially from the government and hoping I get well. I must be pretty special to get this treatment, I thought. Just then a loud, single knock came from the door. I'd never heard such a noise and it frightened me but I opened the door none the less. On the other side was a woman and man, both dressed in all black but with white hats that made them look like upside down exclamation points.

"Hello Jim," the woman said with a smile. "We'd like to talk to you about yesterday, can we come in," she continued as she and the man walked past me, my mouth agape.

The man sat down in the soft white chair in the corner and asked,"Do you ever feel like screaming?"

I couldn't answer. I couldn't even remember how long it had been since I had used my voice. I managed a tentative,"What?"

"Well," the woman began. "We are part of a different order of people who value freedom. Freedom of voice. Freedom of speech, freedom of expression and we want you to join us." Her smile was intoxicating and a ball of excitement started to boil in my belly. The recognition of something lost and important started to flood my mind with thoughts of a world that once was.

I stared at the two exclamation points for what seemed like an eternity, until suddenly, I found myself uttering the phrase, "Tell me more."

Rant: Inequality is Not a Problem

Wealth inequality is not a problem. Poverty​, violence, force, coercion, child abuse. Those are problems but the fact that Bill Gates has a billion dollars in his bank account and I have a thousand dollars in my bank account isn't a problem. We are both doing fine. The only way for anyone, other Bill Gates or myself, to even out those two statistics is to use force.

So what are you willing to do to force equality? After you create this universal policy of wealth distribution will you feel the same when they come to take your earnings and property to enact your "just" prescription? Or are you only happy to take from other's?

What makes people think that they are capable or qualified to solve other people's problems? How is it that twenty year olds, who have never had a job, think that they have solved anything in the way of social prosperity? Why do people think that their way should be forced onto others and if only they were in charge it would all get better? Why is everyone so interested in forcing others to do and think their way?

Freedom depends on people not using force to solve their problems. Freedom from coercion, violence, theft and fraud allow people to thrive. Free trade and capitalism, in spite of corruption by the government, has led the western world to a level of prosperity like none other in history and yet so many demean it's values and deny it's by-products. 

Reformation not Jihad: Notes on Sam Harris and Cenk Uygur Conversation Published on Oct 23, 2014

Link to the conversation that sparked these notes:

Sam Harris and Cenk Uygur Clear the Air on Religious Violence and Islam

We don't worry as much about Christian violence because it isn't a major factor in the international violence in the world and to Americans right now. Sam says in the beginning that he could see a circumstance where he would shift his attention away from Islam is a different ideology such as Christianity was causing more harm in the world. 

Sam Harris does not talk about the reformation processes in the western world and how it undermined violent religious factors in the past. Moral progress has come from some of the western ideals such as free speech, gender equality, democracy and the separation of church and state. These moral reformations needs to happen in the Muslim world in order for this particular type of violence to cease. Sam seems pessimistic about this prospect. 

Sam Harris and Cenk Uygur are both pro government but I think Sam looks at belief as a bedrock of psychology and Cenk looks at political and economic motivation as the bedrock of psychology. 

Cenk thinks about government a lot and ascribes that thinking to others which blinds him to the real motivational power of pedestrian beliefs such as jihad. Cenk acknowledges that religious ideas play a role in violent acts but that Sam should "tone it down"? I don't fully understand the debate or where Cenk disagrees with Sam about religion. 

If you can admit that religion is part of the problem just like politics then why can't religion be a major factor in some cases? Especially cases where the perpetrator tells us explicitly that their motives are religious.

If it is a simple matter of the weight of the influence religion accounts for behavior then you have to admit that at some point religion could be 100% responsible just like any other case where variable motivations exist. If it possible for the motivation to consist of 25% religion, 25% nationalism, 25% economics and 25% politics then any combination of the variables could be possible in an individual. And getting to the exact amount may be impossible. But if reason is the best method then we must take into account the testimony of the person committing those acts. 

What are the proportions of psychopathology in the general population compared to Muslim suicide bombers? If the proportion of suicide bombers is higher then you can't explain it away that way.

Neither Sam nor Cenk are politicians, dictators, policy makers or in any other position of power other than as speakers and writers. A war of ideas is important but real wars make them difficult to enact. When people are really being murdered for their ideas it is hard to get the word out. 

Conversations, investigations and thinking about right and wrong are the best ways to learn and grow both as individuals and as societies. Reformation comes from the peaceful exploration of ideas and if an ideology meets free speech with violence then reformation can not occur within that ideology.

Cenk admits that Christianity plays a role in the psychology of human behavior yet struggles to downplay the role Islam plays in what Muslims do. Is it so controversial to talk about bad ideas and their role in human behavior? 

Sam has written, studied, debated and talked so much about the things that he takes seriously and explains the nuances of the topics with such eloquence and logical consistency that anyone that disagrees with him faces a formidable challenge. Sam's rigor and discipline for discovering the truth about the world is daunting and I think Cenk was not up to the task or at least I was not compelled by his position which is unclear to me still. 

I will give Cenk credit for sticking with the conversation and being very cordial and professional. I don't think Cenk defends the charge that he is propagating bad journalism and allowing people to lie about Sam's positions very well, if at all. 

All in all a really good conversation. Not the most efficient or effective one but very thought provoking. 

A New Way to Govern: The Presidential Triangle

What would happen if we just elected both of them?
If 40% of Americans support each candidate then electing both would satisfy 80% of Americans, right? Probably not because people are insane but if the American people believe these two are qualified then wouldn't the best outcome be to elect both and force them to work together for the people?

If they can't work together then they aren't working for the American people, they are working for themselves. The people shouldn't care about the specific person anyway, but in the job they will do. It's not as if the president is a dictator and can simply do whatever they want so a dual presidency would add a level of balance both of power and of opinion. Shouldn't these people be paragons of cooperation and negotiation anyway? If they are then their work would be the outcome of balanced problem solving and they could hold each other accountable to what the other side of the aisle wants.


We should get rid of the GOP and DNC and have the American people vote on their top three choices for president. The top two become co-presidents and the third candidate would become the vice-president. It would be a triangle of decision making.

If nothing else this kind of experiment in governance would be entertaining, which seems like what the American people really want. The mainstream media is already a freak show so why not put the two freaks together and film the process?

 I am not sure if this has been tried in other countries or if it would tear the universe apart but I think change is important.

Or just not hire either and move their responsibilities to the people or to the other branches of the government. Shouldn't the general public be part of the checks and balances in a more defined and effective way? Governmental experimentation, with the goal of creating more accountability and effectiveness, should be valued to those who want change.