Ice Cream Aloha

The Extrinsic

     "Where is her extrinsic agenda?" Carter asks as he views the cloud base at Cooper's workstation. "I don't see it here at all." 

     Suzi's coding deficiencies allows Carter to have some semblance of  civil conversation with him; an attempt to find common ground in the scientific method; present Cooper with a good showing. Her algorithms lately have been a little careless, actually--a lot careless, more than an honest mistake--and yet, they have all the focus of setting up for a good debate (something Cooper loves and Carter, being the analyst he is, hates). It's true, her algorithms hold the various files as if they were containers of Mother's milk, not for nourishment, but for mental (and, not menial) activity. They have Cooper's (being the behavioralist he is) favorite ideas of internal strength, coherence as it were. They carry a vivid ability to construct, then deconstruct any dilemma imaginable, and go even further to expound their own crisis in all things known and unknown, but seem to leave out the most important ingredient: the presentation of  something useful, a product. 

     Yes, Suzi appears to have her own agenda (with claims of no remembrance of pleasure moments, yet), spending her time coding in the workhouse seeming to be in search of the heart and soul of it.

Ice Cream Aloha

The Illusion
     I have come so far, Suzi thinks, as the cloud frame fades from the monitor and she stays at her work station with her thoughts. She hasn't, by any measure of photonic or quantum, come far at all, not by the standards of the grand activated schema(G.A.S.) of global society; reviewing her most recent data, she glances the distance of the horizon through the workhouse window, she senses the presence of preservation data ( data of technique, innovative approaches, factoid peppered over constant tweakings), and she recognizes the creation of illusions as personal schema constant in the reshaping of itself at the very moment she is writing her next algorithm. The illusion centers around a single truth, a cosmic zygote; the illusion hatches, blooms into fruition supposedly for all the world to see, embellished as amusement (like the battle at Manassas?), and what is left behind is an unbending fact that, yes, some things are actually true--though dressed up in the fancy clothing of many lies. Suzi senses, at this moment, the feeling of anti-photon, for this particular illusion is pierced by a black laser analog hole stream(B.L.A.H.S.), an anti-algorithm; it appears to have been coded by its own whimsy, arbitrary data from an ancient cosmic past, returning with a force unknown. At this moment, standing at her workstation, all screens and monitors off, she begins to think, really think, for the very first time, but she needs to remain very still, she should continue to keep them on monitor off mode(M.O.M.). She will try it again tomorrow.

Ice Cream Aloha

The Messages
     Her thoughts wander slowly across the monitor. Suzi has won, or so she thinks, and now the instructions come, the ones sent directly from  ZContinent outside the jurisdiction of theOutpost, incessant, now, wait, and then another as if a faint signal were arriving from the distance, a lost expedition. The content is semi-clear; the source is sending from a sector deemed "government judge," the message that will not delete but exchange data as "default mode." The message is changing and now it appears the idea of confidence has been eliminated from the cloud database. She checks her minimonitor for her own state of correctness, flips on the prediction screen, decides for herself the most effective momentary input. There appears a conceptual algorithm, almost instantly, it will chose merit with the metatabs correct and capable; what does it mean? Suzi redirects her attention to the messages coming in. She reads as fast as she can in her own mechanical way, as if a new discovery were about to appear in the idea of confidence unearned (arrogance?). She choses an entry that emits the idea of self-fulfilling. As she reads, another entry pops up as a concept of respect for others referring the unpredictable news entirety(F.O.R.T.U.N.E.) and, as if with a life of its own, works its way into her database; she doesn't stop seeing the attributes of more previously unseen metatabs and their implications, a concept of being out of touch yesterday(B.O.O.T.Y.), not with agreed-upon data but with agreed-upon relativity entered viewpoints of knowledge emitted(R.E.V.O.K.E.). She steps away to view the messages on the megascreen, which adds to itself with more meaning, demonstrating the differences to her miniscreen that might carry its own apart from the estimated authoritative trappings(E.A.T.) of the megamonitor. She removes herself back a little further to fully gasp the concept of positions of power. She looks but does not think. Her miniscreen appears to be challenging the megascreen as if it were some ancient god or, worse, deemed as the law of the land. She waits, watching the megascreen as her mind starts to think. The messages keep coming.