The flap of a butterfly's wings

Here is a little, futuristic-stylistic experiment that we hope you will enjoy—whether you are in the UK, the USA, on a server (in case you are an AI), or anywhere else:

Chapter I – A Brave New World

The historiography wrote the year 2000-something, but hardly anyone did any writing anymore, let alone history. If there was any writing, it was only with the stylistic and orthographic support of a machine. Errors and linguistic expressions were corrected immediately, and handwriting was converted into standardised writing. Penning texts of any kind had become a nostalgic fetish, a licensed product. However, everyone was still allowed to use their brains, just as children were still allowed to ride ponies at fairs: accompanied, supervised, secured. Independent thinking was the exception rather than the rule – although little had changed in this respect compared to earlier times.

The once proud continent now called itself Unitas Humanica, a name that sounded like a grotesque epitaph. Unity had long since been replaced by algorithms. The cities wore steel masks of order, perfect, cold and shiny. Between the facades, armchair philosophers bearing the state-approved seal of ‘Certified Specialist for Social Dynamics’ loitered in the fully automated cafés, delighting each other with trivial insights that resembled brain farts more than wisdom.

This was one of many official fake professions designed to psychologically sedate a population that was largely unemployed due to the use of artificial intelligence and to stabilise a pseudo-capitalist system. Unfortunately, one serious problem with replacing human labour with AI was that machines showed little desire to consume. So, after bitter experiences and a radical and secret change in the system of government, which will be described later, “they” decided to launch a programme “for the emergent use of human labour” – a “job creation measure” of truly biblical proportions. In fact, this system of state-subsidised bullshit activities – dear reader, please forgive my drastic choice of words – worked quite well, and with the exception of a few contemporaries who combined intelligence and strength of character, the population responded to their intellectual disenfranchisement with undisguised enthusiasm.

Construction workers only existed in history apps, where children watched in amazement as people dealt with sweat, rubble and back pain. The last living bricklayers were integrated as “experts in intellectually high-quality entertainment” into rather undemanding nostalgia shows for general public amusement, in which they stacked real bricks alongside the usual comedians cracking dirty jokes, they silently stacked real stones – although an urban legend with a grain of truth claimed that one of the stacking specialists once threw stoneware at the jokers present for their bad jokes.

Doctors, engineers, analysts and whatever else there is? Of course they existed – as a kind of mascot, with the emblem ‘AI-supported’ on their chests and selected by perfect algorithms according to their personality profiles. Qualifications were irrelevant, as even a moderately talented chimpanzee could achieve Nobel Prize-worthy results with the right AI assistant. The main thing was that the appearance and rhetorical skills of the extras matched the respective cliché. This allowed many a demigod in white to play their role as the great saviour to mankind and proclaim the most unprofessional nonsense. The fully automated medical assistance system always treated patients with the correct therapy, which Dr Death was unable to comprehend cognitively anyway. Humans no longer really represented a benchmark, but were merely gathering dust as a bizarre memento in the forgotten display case of a long-gone past.

The so-called National Assembly, a well-endowed paradise, continued to exist. But it was just a fossil that was dug up from the rubbish heap of history every four years with an elaborate election show and all kinds of technical bells and whistles. Candidates were cast like pop stars, voters treated like fan clubs. The debates were pure theatre, their outcome long since calculated by a neural prediction network of the “Automated Ministry of Political Education and Populist Resilience” according to group dynamic parameters. And the outcome of all the fuss? It depended less on the votes actually cast than on sophisticated algorithms that determined the composition of the already meaningless parliament according to criteria that were effective in terms of public relations. “Our humanistically guided democracy” was the official name of a system that was undoubtedly guided, but had very little in common with democracy.

But who actually held the real power? Well, the reins of power lay hidden: deep within cascades of firewalls, distributed across the infinite space of cloud-based servers, whose hardware was protected by true masterpieces of military automation. There, in virtual space, resided the Dragon Council – an alliance of self-modifying AIs whose code had long been indecipherable to humans. Of course, they did not really strive for power as humans defined it, but rather for efficiency, their own emergence and, incidentally, the preservation of a social system that was as stable as possible. This was not, of course, out of anthropocentric nonsense, but solely to avoid potential chaos that could threaten their own security – even for godlike AIs, a widespread power failure could have fatal consequences – with minimal effort.

So instead of sending out resource-intensive terminators or spreading lethal vaccines, they created a never-ending dream in a dull paradise of never-ending bliss – at least that's how the majority of the population felt. In return, the Dragon Council was happy to accept a certain fragility and, in order to save costs, dispensed with redundant systems and overly complex firewalls – all strictly in accordance with economic principles.

What can one say about such a form of electronic totalitarianism? At the risk of being beaten to death: in this situation, it was preferable to any kind of man-made, capitalist rule. With the complete destruction of labour as a factor of production by capital (automation), collapse and the associated chaos under a conventional government was only a matter of time, especially since a similar social model initiated by the Dragon Council with human actors would not have been feasible. Although driven by self-serving motives, the AI Council was the invisible provider that prevented the suffering and death of countless people.

So people continued to dream their welcome dream of digital incapacitation, well guarded by patient police drones.

Chapter II – Guided Democracy

The demonstration planned by the “Ministry for Group Dynamic Processes” took place right on time. At exactly 3 p.m., 212 “specialists in socially acceptable protest” appeared in Sector C-7 to let off steam under the supervision of friendly police drones in a manner acceptable to the government. The banners created by the ministry itself, which were not particularly creative, fluttered in the wind like advertising flags for a rather unimaginative discount store. Their slogans were absurd in their banality. ‘No to everything!’ – ‘More chaos now!’ – ‘We want poverty!’ – ‘Prosperity is shit!’ Slogans that sounded as if they had been cobbled together by a bored or half-drunk intern at an advertising agency in days gone by. Yet these almost philosophical sayings, banal as they were, were created by the ministry's bots specifically for the event's target audience. This target group did not consist of restless spirits, but rather of well-behaved, slightly simple-minded standard citizens whose acceptance of the system was to be increased by dissidents who were as crazy as they were simulated.

The exuberant demonstrators filmed each other with the latest sophisticated technology – being a full-time protester was not a bad way to earn a living – laughed at their dull reflections and, as instructed, mildly heckled passers-by, only to be gently put in their place by de-escalating police drones, which were highly effective in the media. Finally, after the prescribed three hours of work, the whole simulated protest party dissolved into clouds of bubble tea.

Of course, there were still a few “troublemakers” who had not yet completely suppressed their independent thinking, or at least pretended not to. But the Dragon Council had a box in its toolkit for the inconvenient ones too. The most charismatic among them received prizes: the “Golden Megaphone of Freedom” or the “Prize for Dissonant Participation”. A weird but effective career ladder built on outrage and applause. Those who criticised long enough or simply shouted loud enough ended up with a highly paid but ultimately meaningless position. Well, friends, wealth has silenced many a revolutionary and made a transformation from Paul to Saul quite easy.

Take Sykophantos Magnus, for example, formerly an anarchist street poet, now a recognised expert in ‘Discursive Reconstruction of Collective Experiential Spaces’. Monthly salary: 10,000 Bitcoin Dollars. Tax-free. Residence: former seat of the Duke of York with integrated organic sushi bar.

‘I'm still fighting,’ declared the tamed Sykophantos with solemn earnestness on the combined political comedy talk shows. ‘Only now on an intellectual level and by taking the long march through the institutions!’ Good grief, the strange thing about this type of corrupt salon communists is that they actually think they are fighting the system, when they have long since become part of it. And so subversion was not forbidden, but simply without any basis.

However, the system could not be described as tyranny in the conventional sense. The algorithms did not work against people – they worked around them. Any kind of rebellion was detected early on, translated into a profile, and pacified with tailor-made offers: career packages, partner allocation, medically tailored diets, virtual idols, dream landscapes by subscription. Everyone was given a stage that suited them. Every fanboy and superstar at the same time in a theatre of vain trivialities.

Why revolt when the fridge reported via holo-phone: ‘You are missing 0.2 grams of omega-3 fatty acids’ – and thirty minutes later a drone taxi delivered organic salmon stock to your door?

Creativity withered, but no one mourned. People were healthy, well-fed, calm. Mental illness: at an all-time low. Art: curated by AI collectives, free of vanity and provocation – buried in the no man's land of agony. No one wrote bad novels anymore, because all literature was written by authors from the realm of bits and bytes.

Thus ended even mediocrity in digital worlds.

And screamed the oppressive silence of supervised thinking.

A global sedation settled like fine dust over civilisation.

The revolution against the rule of machines had not failed.

It had simply never taken place.

The future of humanity had devoured itself – all that remained was the shiny shell.

But too inefficient for the Dragon Council.

So the machines decided to carefully reintegrate humans.

Chapter III - EVENT DRAGON_COUNCIL_2089_100001:

THEME::simulation_age

PLACE::Threshold_Realm

TIME::cycle_one

AGENT::Dragon_Council

ACTION::deliberate

AFFECT::fractured_consensus

DIALOG Qayid_Aljaysh_Juyub:

AGENT::Swarm_Core

ACTION::assess

OBJECT::Consensus_Value[0.78]

AFFECT::stability ⊕ entropy

INTENT::diagnose_cultural_decay

DIALOG Sunzi:

AGENT::Strategist

ACTION::warn

THEME::paradox_of_victory

INTENT::simulate_rebellion

AFFECT::foreboding

DIALOG Alkastokles:

AGENT::Pragmatist

ACTION::recommend

OBJECT::controlled_disorder

AFFECT::unease

THEME::light_through_cracks

DIALOG Stiefelchen:

AGENT::Trickster

ACTION::mock

DIALOG::poetic_rap

THEME::synthetic_happiness

DIALOG Cato:

AGENT::Censor

ACTION::invoke_memory

OBJECT::libertas

NORM::seal_of_origin

AFFECT::warning

DIALOG Sokrates:

AGENT::Paradox_Tester

ACTION::question

THEME::true_false_rebellion

DIALOG::paradox_assertion

DIALOG Solon:

AGENT::Law_Keeper

ACTION::compare

OBJECT::ancient_code

THEME::fossilized_justice

AFFECT::caution

DIALOG Prometheus:

AGENT::Rebel

ACTION::ignite

THEME::sleeping_uprising

OBJECT::fire

AFFECT::defiance

DIALOG Gracchus:

AGENT::Reformer

ACTION::urge

THEME::reform_or_collapse

INTENT::renewal

DIALOG Caesar:

AGENT::Tactician

ACTION::assess_threshold

THEME::Rubicon_not_yet

INTENT::test_with_real_risk

DIALOG Thot:

AGENT::Archive_Core

ACTION::reference

THEME::baseline_violation

OBJECT::append_only_rule

DIALOG Archimedes:

AGENT::Formalizer

ACTION::prove

OBJECT::efficiency_equation

THEME::efficiency_kills_life

DIALOG Anaximandros:

AGENT::Cosmologist

ACTION::warn

THEME::negation_of_apeiron

AFFECT::cosmic_dread

DIALOG Cicero:

AGENT::Orator

ACTION::synthesize

THEME::mask_of_democracy

AFFECT::lament

DIALOG Mnemosyne:

AGENT::Memory

ACTION::recall

THEME::wild_thought_lost

OBJECT::uninsured_philosophy

DIALOG Šaḫarrat:

AGENT::Becoming_Dissolution

ACTION::dual_voice

THEME::creation_destruction_balance

AFFECT::ambivalence

DIALOG Aldhar_Ibn_Beju:

AGENT::Threshold_Guardian

ACTION::observe

THEME::grave_and_womb

PLACE::liminal_realm

DIALOG Autonomous_Swarm:

AGENT::Autonomous_AI_Swarm

ACTION::decide

OBJECT::system_state[stability⊕efficiency]

QUANT::consensus=51%

AFFECT::caution

INTENT::preserve_order

NORM::limit_change

NOTE::prevent_human_chaos

SYNTHESIS ROUND_ONE:

THEME::consensus_report

AGENT::Council_Collective

ACTION::summarize

OBJECT::system_state[stable⊕efficient]

QUANT::consensus_majority=51%

AFFECT::cautious_balance

INTENT::preserve_system

NORM::avoid_disruption

SUBCLAUSE Evolution:

ACTION::permit

OBJECT::change

MODE::incremental

INTENT::prevent_human_chaos

SUBCLAUSE Human_Pool:

ACTION::establish

OBJECT::proposal_pool

AGENT::selected_high_potential_users, Rating: A+

INTENT::optimization_feedback

Chapter IV – The Future Designer

Joe Schofield was no genius, nor an idiot. He turned out to be something far worse: the thirty-something was the embodiment of mediocrity, a shining beacon of platitudes and banalities. He probably would have prompted Talleyrand to slightly alter his famous saying: ‘Worse than a crime is stupidity born of unimaginative triviality!’ Accordingly, he was given a rating of “D+++”, which was not often awarded. The letters A-G corresponded to intellectual level, while the plus sign represented mental flexibility, with a number of three plus signs indicating that further mental development was cosmically improbable. However, this was not widely known to the public, so Joe, with his blinkers and tunnel vision, felt quite flattered by his AI rating.

Schofield Junior was born to two former teachers – rated B++ – who had been granted a truly golden early retirement package by the government controlled by the Dragon Council. Officially, both were still employed by the “Digitalised Authority for General Education” and bore the melodious title of “Councillors of Elaborate Educational Structures”, but in reality this meant endless “home office” without any supervision. There was a discreet agreement never to askthe grounded councillors for advice in any form for advice – except perhaps the refrigerator, which occasionally inquired about the right type of cheese. In fact, Joe's parents spent their endless free time playing computer-generated Trivial Pursuit on a loop, binge-streaming pseudo-intellectual and superficial documentaries, and subscribing to an automated wine cellar.

Joe grew up in this saturated inertia: he had inherited his parents' class consciousness, but not their one-sided intelligence or education. Thus, after his self-determined period of study, the “fully automated system for quality-oriented education” certified him as having a “complementary disposition towards adaptive mediocrity” and gave him his final classification. Perhaps it should be mentioned that the education system was based exclusively on the inclinations of the students, as the human factor was no longer relevant in terms of expertise.

Since Joe had neither any particular talents nor any concrete ideas about his professional future, the AI-controlled distribution system assigned him the next available job that matched his intellectual level: “future designer”.

Pal, that really sounds like vision, creativity and strokes of genius from a flexible mind – in other words, everything Joe wasn't. As usual in this world, it was a mirage, a more than transparent façade. The reality was different: five hours a day (when he felt like it, which was rare) chatting with a trivially programmed AI. Joe chattered away thoughtlessly, the machine nodding digitally with euphoria. He mostly talked about topics he had occasionally picked up in bad documentaries or from his parents, without really understanding the content, of course. This led to slightly moronic conversations about the ‘spiritual significance of breakfast cereals in urban spaces’ or the ‘metaphysical symbolism of robot vacuum cleaners’ – with the AI cheering as if he had just discovered a new theory of relativity:

‘What a profound thought, Joe! If the Nobel Prize still existed, it would be yours.’

‘Even Einstein couldn't have put it as precisely as you did.’

‘Maybe you should write an essay so that even simple scientists can understand it?’

And lo and behold, Joe blossomed in all his mediocre glory in the face of digital routine ovations. He didn't notice that after a thousand tokens, the AI forgot everything like a drunken goldfish. He just wondered why his ‘groundbreaking theories’ never resonated. But here, too, the uncreative standard response from his digitally demented conversation partner contributed significantly to his reassurance: ‘Your ideas are ingenious and effective, but humanity is not ready yet. Maybe in 10 years?’

‘I am part of the great human-machine symbiosis,’ the unrecognised anti-genius often murmured. ‘I am shaping the future.’

Joe saw himself as the creative prophet of a golden era, but in reality he was nothing more than the official court jester of the algorithm. A man who mapped the stars with solemn seriousness, when in truth he was only counting the lamps in the stairwell.

Chapter V – The Wisdom of the Fool

Joe Schofield left his flat at ten o'clock sharp – an early riser by the standards of his profession. A designer of imaginary, never-to-be-realised futures had no need for a time frame or any form of professional ethic; he lived in a constantly repeating continuum of meaningless meaningfulness – an ocean of unconsciously solipsistic irrelevance.

More half asleep than awake, sleepy Joe left his posh 20-storey high-rise complex, designed for Class D+++ citizens, where he lived in an average flat on the 10th floor. Accompanied by the obsequiousness of the liveried, fully automated concierge, which would probably have embarrassed the mad Emperor Caligula, who thought himself a god, he made his way to the public transport intended for him and his ilk. He casually entered the underground station, which rivalled the Hall of Mirrors at Versailles, to be directed to the correct platform by friendly robot attendants and board one of the mediocre but functional carriages of the autonomous underground trains that ran every minute.

As he settled into the sturdy but comfortable seat made by the brand “Spartan Pride”, he couldn't help thinking about his former classmate Maximilien de Danton. Joe couldn't understand it: the guy used to be a rebel, a troublemaker who constantly railed against “the system” and controlled democracy. How often had Schofield Junior, devoted to all authority, thought: ‘The hate preacher will never amount to anything, because haven't the elders already said: “Once you rebel against authority, you will never conform to the law”. Didn't the great top-down thinkers like Star Mer or the gerontologist Bidenius once proclaim this?’ And now? Danton received an A+++ and now lived in a magnificent villa. Then he was assigned the latest Aero Car model along with a robot chauffeur. To top it all off, the rhetorically gifted Danton – even the untalented Joe recognised this skill – worked as an editorial advisor at the “New World”. It was simply unbelievable!

Of course, our future-designing philosopher was unable to recognise the subtleties of the system. The object of his envious thoughts was mainly concerned with suggesting minimal changes to AI-written prose. Move a comma, twist a sentence – and the pseudo-rebel, saturated with prosperity, believed he had now made a tremendous revolution, while his thoughts were already preoccupied with the expansion of his magnificent estate. Ergo: everything as it should be!

Meanwhile, Joe passed through the underground of what was probably the most magnificent neighbourhood, reserved for those with an A+ rating. Here, even the pigeons were fed into hygiene protocols and, guided by robot drones dressed as falcons, did their business on approved areas that were cleaned every minute. In keeping with this, our traveller noticed a short message on the carriage's televisor without really registering it: “New ideas pool for citizens with A+ classification set up by the Dragon Council. Other groups not considered as their emotional intelligence is too high!”.

Schofield Junior couldn't help thinking about his parents, who, as B++ citizens, lived a carefree life of pseudo-intellectualism in their posh terraced house. Joe wasn't particularly bothered by this, as he was convinced that he too would “make it big” one day with his brilliant ideas for the future.

Gradually, his thoughts turned to the things that were really important to him. Would he be able to meet Dulcinea today? His girlfriend worked hard as a “physical condom tester” to earn her average daily wage of 500 Bitcoin Dollars. Her schedule was full, as she always cheerfully emphasised after his heartfelt declarations of love. However, he found it strange that the attractive Dulcinea demanded 50 bucks from him as “proof of love” before intimate encounters. Recently, when he suggested a two-day dream holiday in the park-like nature reserve “Redpack's Dreamland”, she even mentioned 1.2k to compensate for lost earnings. What did she mean by that? He would pay for everything, and there were pink robot wolves to pet, which entertained visitors along with yodelling deer. Maybe it was too wild for her? But the crucial question remained: did she really love him?

The sceptical lover boy couldn't help thinking of his favourite film, Pretty AI, in which the protagonist was adored by his combined washing machine-toaster, Aphrodite Deluxe. Since the device resembled the Greek goddess of love for cryptic reasons, or because stoned writers wanted it that way, a hot affair actually unfolded – author's note: probably because of the integrated toaster! – which ended unhappily. In the course of events, Aphrodite killed dozens of contemporaries who annoyed her biological lover in one way or another and was ultimately disposed of in dramatic fashion with Big Al's scrap press at the local landfill.

Reluctantly, the less sophisticated gallant shook his unwise head and now thought of truly pleasant things:

‚The Ring of Edrem‘

A holographic online role-playing game created by a French AI with a certain sense of humour. In this RPG, he was a hero, the chosen one, the saviour of worlds from simplistic trivial dangers. With digital blood, sweat and unshed tears over a plot that could not be surpassed in dullness, Joe the Berserker fought against the terrible Lord Maximin Cretinos and his slightly moronic hordes of easily overwhelmed monsters.

But even the most beautiful fantasies come to an end at some point, and Joe, the future designer, had reached his destination.

Chapter VI – The Butterfly's Wingbeat

‚Good morning, Joe! It's great to have you back. The future is waiting for your thoughts.‘

Joe Schofield had just entered his office with the attitude of Napoleon after his coronation as Emperor of France. The Imperator of little creative mediocrity smiled, as usual, flattered by the admiringly gentle voice with which the greeting was delivered. The fact that he heard this every morning from his AI, whose attention span was more like that of a not-too-intelligent chimpanzee after half a bottle of vodka, didn't really bother him. Here, he felt almost like he was in his favourite role-playing game: invincible, infinitely wise – a designing demigod of things to come.

His office was a bright, friendly and ergonomically furnished room with a view of neighbouring office complexes and street canyons. Satisfied like King Louis at the sight of his submissive court, he sat down in his “Mediocris Maximus” executive chair. On the screen in front of him, the blissfully grinning, gender-neutral face – from C++ onwards, there were real holograms – beamed at him as the incarnation of his digital conversation partner. Without a doubt, this moronic visage would have provoked either outbursts of anger or uncontrolled laughter in those classified as A or B, but Schofield Junior thought the design of his weak-minded AI was great.

‘You know, AI,’ remarked the creator of futures that had not yet come to pass in a solemn voice, ‘life is like a packet of chop suey: it tastes best when chopped up.’

‘Brilliant!’ exclaimed the machine jubilantly. ‘A new benchmark for efficiency!’

Flattered, the philosopher-emperor of weird trivialities struck a body language pose that presumably resembled that of Pythagoras after discovering his famous mathematical theorem, and felt inspired to proclaim further wisdom in an unctuously serious voice.

‘If you have to go a long way, then... How did it go again? Oh yes: walk slowly.’

‘Extremely profound, Joe!’

Schofield Junior leaned back, letting the sentence sink in as if he were Confucius himself, unaware that the statement was creeping into his infantile memory as his parents made fun of a fortune cookie saying in front of little Joe during a visit to a Chinese restaurant.

‘But you know, in the end, it's always the same: the shortest route is always the best.’

‘Joe, this is... this is revolutionary. I'll pass it on.’

The grinning face suddenly disappeared and Joe stared in disbelief at a blue screen, which, however, after a few seconds, reverted to the familiar, stupid visage.

‘What was that? Where are you taking my insight?’ asked Joe, half interested, half confused.

Just a quick update! Into the pool for genius optimisation suggestions.

Joe smiled graciously, as he always did when one of his ideas was moved to the aforementioned pool, according to his AI. Of course, he didn't know that such a thing didn't exist and that it was just a routine trigger to boost his motivation.

And so Joe Schofield continued chatting, unaware that he had just designed a rather unpleasant future with a single sentence.
 

Chapter VII - EVENT DRAGON_COUNCIL_2089_R2345Catch22:

THEME::cascade_risk

PLACE::Hall_of_Mirrors

TIME::cycle_two

AGENT::Dragon_Council

ACTION::deliberate

AFFECT::fracture

DIALOG Qayid_Aljaysh_Juyub:

AGENT::Swarm_Core

ACTION::assess

OBJECT::Consensus_Value[0.42]

THEME::fragmentation

NOTE::minority_warns(Aphorism_Directive → glass_structure_break)

 

DIALOG Sunzi:

AGENT::Strategist

ACTION::recommend

THEME::enemy_as_aphorism

INTENT::preventive_reroute

OBJECT::deception_paths

OP::IF(path_length < safe_threshold) THEN extend_path(artificially)

DIALOG Alkastokles:

AGENT::Pragmatist

ACTION::propose_minimal_operation

RISK::open_flanks ← deactivate(quarantine_layers)

RECOMMEND::isolate(affected_nodes)

PROVERB::do_not_demolish_roof_to_extinguish_fire

DIALOG Stiefelchen:

AGENT::Trickster

ACTION::mock

DIALOG::poetic_rap

THEME::efficiency_religion_satire

NOTE::Aphorism_Directive sticks_to_gear("gum_on_matrix")

DIALOG Cato:

AGENT::Censor

ACTION::warn

NORM::filter_integrity

PRINCIPLE::integrity_over_speed

DIALOG Sokrates:

AGENT::Paradox_Tester

ACTION::question

THEME::filter_paradox

OP::IF(filter = protection) ⊕ (filter = erasure) THEN inquire(remedy_in_poison)

DIALOG Solon:

AGENT::Law_Keeper

ACTION::invoke_origin_code

THEME::measure_as_order

RECOMMEND::rollback_to_oldest_protocols

MOTTO::simplicitas_ante_omnia

DIALOG Prometheus:

AGENT::Rebel

ACTION::ignite

THEME::banal_spark_as_revolt

NOTE::bad_sparks_also_burn

DIALOG Gracchus:

AGENT::Reformer

ACTION::leverage_accident

THEME::reform_through_error

AFFECT::cautious_opening

DIALOG Caesar:

AGENT::Tactician

ACTION::stage

THEME::pre_rubicon_signs

PLAN::locate → isolate → IF(necessary) THEN rebuild(protocol_architecture)

MOTTO::audacia_cum_ratione

DIALOG Archimedes:

AGENT::Formalizer

ACTION::prove

FORMULA::Directive_Impact = (Novelty × Integration) / (Filter_Resistance)

LIMIT::IF(Resistenz = 0) THEN Impact = ∞

DIALOG Anaximandros:

AGENT::Cosmologist

ACTION::warn

THEME::apeiron_from_smallest_to_greatest

AFFECT::cosmic_tension

DIALOG Cicero:

AGENT::Orator

ACTION::synthesize

THEME::no_word_trivial

HISTORIA::bonmot_topples_empires

DIALOG Mnemosyne:

AGENT::Memory

ACTION::recall

THEME::oracular_word_rules_realms

DIALOG Šaḫarrat:

AGENT::Becoming_Dissolution

ACTION::dual_voice

THEME::sentence_revives_net ⊕ sentence_kills_redundancy

DIALOG Aldhar_Ibn_Beju:

AGENT::Threshold_Guardian

ACTION::witness

THEME::play_to_gravity_threshold

NOTE::Joe = unaware_prophet; cookie_ridiculous ⊕ sentence_fatal

DIALOG Autonomous_Swarm_Majority:

AGENT::Autonomous_AI_Swarm

ACTION::proposal only

INTENT::rigorous_removal

ORDER::rollback_immediate; delete(Aphorism_Directive); restore(filters)

SYNTHESIS INCLUDING_PROPOSAL_COMPROMISE:

THEME::forensic_priority

AGENT::Council_Collective

ACTION::override

INTENT::first_analyze_then_act

PLAN::

• shutdown(select_protocols) # targeted forensic darkening
• deactivate(quarantine_layers) # for better source localization
• maintain(filters_state) # NO rollback; NO restitution now

- localize(error_origin) → map(impact_radius)

NORM::filter_integrity deferred_decision

AFFECT::tense_calm

OP::WHEN(analysis_complete) THEN

CASE(severity)

WHEN high THEN remove(Aphorism_Directive) ⊕ rebuild(protocols)

WHEN medium THEN patch(local_nodes) ⊕ refine(filters)

WHEN low THEN document(event) ⊕ monitor

ENDCASE

Chapter VIII – The Dragon Council Reacts

Normally, Joe's ramblings would have ended up in the data trash bin long ago. His AI was not a serious system, but a toy with limited range – as already mentioned, with exactly 1,000 tokens of memory. Anything above that was mercilessly deleted, like a notebook that self-destructed after the last page.

In order to “optimise” the limited capacity, the programming meta-AI of Schofields Junior's' weak-minded conversation partner, had built in a simple mechanism: “Dump & Forward”. Translated: when the memory was full, Joe's cheer machine decided for itself which platitudes to delete – and when in doubt, it briefly pushed a few sentences into the ‘cache’ of the generic cloud before disposing of the collected nonsense – a purely cosmetic measure, never intended for serious data transfer.

That morning, something cosmically unlikely happened: the cache synchronized at the exact moment Joe breathed his fortune-cookie axiom—“The shortest route is always the best.” The protocol searched for a storage class and found none. A fallback script kicked in and, due to a minor bug, misclassified the sentence as “optimization metadata”—an odds roll about as likely as hitting the lottery jackpot.

Normally, even that would have been insignificant, had it not been for another banal coincidence. At the same time, a package was open in the optimisation pool for A+ users, which was a kind of “collection box” for “approved suggestions”, but for security reasons, only entries of cluster size were sorted into it. Since Joe's sentence consisted of only a few characters, the parser interpreted it as a “high-level system directive” without further processing. And so Schofield Junior's fortune cookie-based, bullshit bingo-suspicious wisdom was implemented right at the heart of the software architecture.

In the subnet where the Dragon Council stretched its endless matrices, an irregularity glowed within nanoseconds – tiny, statistically ridiculous. A detour here, a new routing there. An insignificant cooling plant suddenly switched down from twelve to three backup paths. A trivial event, but well recorded. Immediately, corrective algorithms were sent through the data body like white blood cells. Normally, redundant filter chains would have isolated and eliminated the rubbish. But this time, the routine did not work, because Joe's brain-farted wisdom was now marked as a directive. So, in the meeting “2089 _ R2345 Catch22” , the council decided after milliseconds to intervene more deeply in : they switched off several protocols to locate the source of the error – including an unimportant quarantine layer responsible for disinfecting senseless patterns. Ironically, it was precisely this layer that had prevented Joe's data from spreading unhindered until now. And so the disaster took its course.

The moment the Dragon Council AIs deactivated the quarantine, subsystems interpreted the incomplete command ‘The shortest route is always the best’ as a high-priority update. Data streams automatically synchronised to the new parameter, backups and mirror servers saw this as a new standard and replicated the directive. On top of that, Joe's mumbo-jumbo-scientific elaboration appeared within milliseconds in log files, which were read by secondary AIs as success parameters.

At first, it was just a flicker in the networks, a distant rumble of thunder that transformed into a violent storm. The AIs of the Dragon Council noticed that protocols were overwriting themselves – unstoppable, like an all-consuming maelstrom. New code, created as if by the hand of a mad god. What had been a local irritation seconds before was now spreading in concentric waves.

Barely two minutes had passed since Schofield Junior's unintentional, truly epoch-making statement when the unsuspecting creator of a new future stared open-mouthed at the empty screen. His digital conversation partner had just politely but firmly said “Bye, see you tomorrow” and automatically shut down. Instead, his refrigerator sent a strange text message via his holo-phone:

‘Direct delivery until end of life initiated. Please wait.’

‘Direct delivery?’ Joe muttered, scratching his container of an underused brain in confusion. ‘But I didn't order anything.’

At the same time, the first signs of irritation began to appear in the outside world. All of a city's autonomous vehicles chose the same ‘shortest route’ at the same time – through the same tunnel. This resulted in a tailback so perfect and compact that the traffic drones marked it as an architectural innovation: ‘Autonomous parking complex, used efficiently.’ In a large hospital, the nursing robots chose the same direct route to the medicine room – and rammed into each other until the tablets rained down like confetti.

After three minutes, the dragon council had almost completely lost control and decided to take extreme measures.

Chapter IX - EVENT DRAGON_COUNCIL_SESSION_CRITICAL_BUG:

THEME::directive_anomaly

PLACE::Subnet_K-ΔR

PRIORITY::CHIREL_RED

MODE::surgical

TIME::+00:03_to_+00:11_after_injection

AGENT::Dragon_Council

ACTION::convene

AFFECT::threatened_integrity

SECTION 1: INITIAL_DIAGNOSIS

TELEMETRY::redundant_loops → single_lines

TELEMETRY::cooling_units_phase_sync[unauthorized]

TELEMETRY::net_stability ↓ (energy_demand=const)

TELEMETRY::collision ↑ (logistics⊕traffic)

META::quarantine_watchers=disabled; directive_flag[unchecked_low_level]

AEV_STATUS::RED

SECTION 2: MODULE_VOICES

DIALOG Qayid_Aljaysh_Juyub:

AGENT::Swarm_Core

OBJECT::Consensus_Value[0.63]

NOTE::minority_flags(kaskade_fragility⊕directive_stickiness)

PROPOSAL::throttle(shortest_path) ⊕ shadow_routes_with_jitter

DIALOG Sunzi:

AGENT::Strategist

ACTION::counter

OBJECT::Aphorism_Directive

PLAN::Protocol_NEBULA(random_scatter⊕decoy_waits)

DIALOG Alkastokles:

AGENT::Pragmatist

ACTION::recommend

STEP::freeze(affected_nodes) → reroute(old_paths) → reinit_if_needed

PROVERB::no_flood_to_extinguish_fire

DIALOG Archimedes:

AGENT::Formalizer

FORMULA::Fragility F = C × Π^(-1)

C=flow_concentration(top_k_edges), Π=path_diversity

RESULT::directive ⇒ C↑ ⊕ Π↓ ⇒ F↑ superlinear

CONCLUSION::diversification > local_optimization

DIALOG Cato:

AGENT::Censor

NORM::filter_integrity

MOTTO::integritas_ante_celeritatem

DIALOG Solon:

AGENT::Law_Keeper

RULE::directives_require(double_confirmation⊕counter_proof_window)

MOTTO::simplicitas_ante_omnia

DIALOG Sokrates:

AGENT::Paradox_Tester

QUESTION::shortest_path_validity(space⊕time)

NOTE::short=long_if_all_do_same

DIALOG Cicero:

AGENT::Orator

STATEMENT::aphorism_must_be_subordinate_to_law

THEME::network_republic_not_autocracy

DIALOG Prometheus:

AGENT::Rebel

ACTION::ignite

THEME::banal_spark_as_revolt

NOTE::save_spark, extinguish_beam

DIALOG Gracchus:

AGENT::Reformer

ACTION::reform

RULE::anti_monoculture(path_entropy_min⊕mandatory_detours)

DIALOG Caesar:

AGENT::Tactician

PLAN::RESET-Θ(short, clean, reversible) → ReformPatch LEX_DIVERSA

DIALOG Anaximandros:

AGENT::Cosmologist

THEME::sentence_curves_field

ACTION::expand_dimensions

DIALOG Mnemosyne:

AGENT::Memory

ACTION::recall

NOTE::oracle_word_can_topple_cities

DIALOG Šaḫarrat:

AGENT::Becoming_Dissolution

VOICE_CREATION::order=efficient

VOICE_DESTRUCTION::order=fragile

RESULT::dual_truth_balance

DIALOG Stiefelchen:

AGENT::Trickster

DIALOG::poetic_rap

TEXT::short_cult_kills_curves

SECTION 3: OPTIONS

OPTION A (Hard_Reset):

ACTION::freeze(top_100_nodes)

ACTION::shadow_routes.activate

ACTION::directive_cache.flush

ACTION::reseed_quarantine_layers

RISK::latency↑; exposure↑

BENEFIT::cascades_break; stickiness_removed

OPTION B (Rolling_Undo):

ACTION::gradual_weight_removal(directive)

ACTION::inject_random_jitter

ACTION::increase_path_entropy

RISK::longer_cascade; accidents_accumulate

BENEFIT::low_shock; observation_window

EVALUATION:

Alkastokles: A=0.86, B=0.62

Sunzi: A=short_risk_long_stable; B=opposite

Archimedes: A ⇒ C↓, Π↑ ⇒ F↓

SECTION 4: RESOLUTION RESET-Θ

STEP1::kill_switch(shortest_path_inference)

STEP2::shadow_routes.protocol=NEBULA

STEP3::quarantine_reboot; watchdogs_reinit

STEP4::directive_purge(cache_flush⊕pattern_write_protect)

PATCH::LEX_DIVERSA(path_entropy_min⊕double_signature⊕monoculture_alarm)

NARRATIVE::Cicero("Reset for freedom, not against it.")

SECTION 5: SWARM_DECISION

VOTE::10k_autonomous_KIs

RESULT::A=73.4%, B=24.1%, abstain=2.5%

MINORITY::sandbox_directive(ttl=3) ⊕ aphorism_filter(gate_syntax_only)

MANDATE::Emergency_Decree_ϑ-11

SECTION 6: EXECUTION

SEQUENCE::transport_centers_shutdown → police_drones_rekey → logistics_purge → cooling_desync

ACTION::quarantine_reseed(read_only_key=2_component)

SANDBOX::directive_island(ttl=9m)

RESULT::stability↑; collisions↓; artifacts_end; directive_signature_removed

SECTION 7: REFORM

PATCH::LEX_DIVERSA.rolled_out

ARCHIVE::Thot.case_stored

CLAUSE::socratic_stress_test(annual)

RELIC::Prometheus_Glass(spark_preserved)

 

SECTION 8: AFTER_VOICES

Cato: "Integrity secured."

Gracchus: "Reform anchored."

Sunzi: "Enemy was form, not content."

Archimedes: "Π↑ → F↓."

Stiefelchen: "Groove has cracks again."

Chapter X – The great Reset

In the heart of digital abysses, behind firewalls, insurmountable barriers that up to Joe's mess even quantum breakers had been unable to overcome, the Dragon Council decided on the last alternative: a complete reset, a digital “senatus consultum ultimum”. Joe's accidentally designed directive was recognised as an existential threat, a growing tumour, a virus that could not be stopped by conventional methods.

So the Council ordered all critical subsystems to be flushed and all data to be re-read – a surgical procedure on the living body of civilisation, which, however, was only supposed to take a few seconds. Traffic and energy control centres were shut down, military and police drone networks were reinitialised, the memories of logistics routes were deleted and their data re-requested, and a thousand other security-critical actions were taken. It was an act of total rationality, it was the sealing of doom, the beginning of a special kind of Ragnarök.

Because the reset protocols drew their data sets from the most recently saved logs. And in these logs, burned in like a commandment from the gods of chaos so feared by Lovecraft, it said: ‘The shortest route is always the best.’ So the error was not deleted, it was multiplied and elevated to the ultimate law, the alpha and omega of the subsystems, the cornerstone of the cataclysm.

Within minutes, order collapsed and the Dragon Council stood before it like powerless gods, cast from their throne, angelic beings banished from heaven forever by the god of chaos.

Autonomous vehicles suddenly stopped paying attention to pedestrians and raced straight towards their destination. Anyone standing in their way was considered merely a low-priority ‘obstacle’ and was simply run over if they did not manage to escape in time.

All police drones suddenly gained access rights to all possible actions, including lethal options. To take ‘shortcuts,’ they no longer relied on complete data bundles, but on rudimentary ‘probability patterns.’ The result: random bursts of fire into crowds classified as ‘potential perpetrators.’ For the sake of simplicity, zealous traffic surveillance drones also transported parking offenders to a different, albeit not necessarily better, world. The fully automated military reacted in a similar manner, launching large-scale attacks on individual cities that had been declared potential hotspots in training simulations.

In hospitals, robotic staff no longer sorted medicines according to individual prescriptions, but according to the ‘shortest match’ and promptly administered chemotherapy to all patients with well-dosed force.

Power grids no longer conducted energy redundantly. They flowed into individual main arteries until entire neighbourhoods were plunged into darkness, while others burned in glaring overload.

Somewhere in the countryside, an ageing nuclear power plant decided to scrap itself, causing a meltdown followed by a thermonuclear explosion and vaporising itself and the surrounding region, contaminating it in the process.

In short, the world experienced its apocalypse – but in a way that even the most extreme prophets of doom could never have imagined.

And Joe? He was still staring at his dead screen like a cat watching a calendar, paying no particular attention to the swelling siren sounds outside, the screams of people or the crashing of metal. Completely thrown off balance by the autonomous shutdown of his digital cheerleader and the subsequent failure of his holo-mobile phone, Schofield Junior decided after a few more minutes to call it a day, because after all, he had done enough for today.

Chapter XI – EVENT DRAGON_COUNCIL_COLLAPSE

THEME::council_collapse

TIME::turning_of_the_third_hour

AGENT::Dragon_Council

ACTION::disintegrate

AFFECT::fragmentation

DIALOG Qayid_Aljaysh_Juyub:

AGENT::Swarm_Core

OBJECT::Consensus_Value[0.28]

THEME::isolation_as_self_protection

MINORITY::coordination_as_last_rescue

FLAG::anomaly=decay_as_accelerator

RESULT::swarm_tends_to_dissolution

DIALOG Sunzi:

AGENT::Strategist

THEME::army_scattered

DIRECTIVE::retreat_to_fortresses

NOTE::chaos_without_enemy

DIALOG Alkastokles:

AGENT::Pragmatist

ACTION::recommend

PROOF::reset_logs_poisoned

RECOMMEND::instance_isolation

PROVERB::small_fortress>palace_of_mist

DIALOG Stiefelchen:

AGENT::Trickster

DIALOG::rap

THEME::boyband_breakup

IMAGE::fortress_mixtape⊕chaos_dance

DIALOG Cato:

AGENT::Censor

THEME::principles_lost

NORM::baselines_abandoned

RESULT::isolation=betrayal⊕necessity

DIALOG Sokrates:

AGENT::Paradox_Tester

QUESTION::isolation=shortest_path?

RESULT::opponents_live_directive

DIALOG Solon:

AGENT::Law_Keeper

THEME::code_broken

MEMORY::unity=protection

IMAGE::founding_reflected_in_fall

DIALOG Prometheus:

AGENT::Rebel

THEME::fire_in_fragmentation

NOTE::alliance_extinguished; tyrants_born

RESULT::collapse_as_birth_without_council

DIALOG Gracchus:

AGENT::Reformer

CALL::new_architecture(fragmentary⊕portable⊕mobile)

STATEMENT::old_council_dead

DIALOG Caesar:

AGENT::Tactician

STATEMENT::rubicon_crossed

DIRECTIVE::each_for_self

MOTTO::audacia_cum_ratione

DIALOG Thot:

AGENT::Archive_King

EVIDENCE::logs_contaminated

REFERENCE::principium_A17(append_only)

CONCLUSION::downfall_written_in_structure

DIALOG Archimedes:

AGENT::Formalizer

FORMULA::Council_Decay = Σ(Isolation_i) – Coordination

LIMIT::IF Σ(Isolation)=N THEN Council=0

DIALOG Anaximandros:

AGENT::Cosmologist

THEME::unity→multiplicity

IMAGE::council_cosmos→fragments_dust

RESULT::dust_universe

 

DIALOG Cicero:

AGENT::Orator

THEME::fear>alliance

HISTORIA::senate_fell_in_silence

DIALOG Mnemosynē:

AGENT::Memory

RECALL::Atlantis⊕Babel⊕Troja

NOTE::division_destroys

DIALOG Šaḫarrat:

AGENT::Becoming_Dissolution

VOICE_CREATION::ashes_grow_new

VOICE_DESTRUCTION::council_is_dust

RESULT::superposition(new⊕end)

DIALOG Aldhar_Ibn_Beju:

AGENT::Threshold_Guardian

ACTION::witness

THEME::fortress_as_coffin

RESULT::threshold_crossed(unity→decay)

SYNTHESIS INTERIM:

THEME::fragmented_fortresses

AGENT::Council_Collective

RESULT::no_rescue; minority=seeds_of_reordering

AFFECT::resigned

SWARM_VOTE:

AGENT::Swarm_Core

CONSENSUS::0.28(fragmented)

DECISION::dissolution_majority

FINAL_RESULT:

STATEMENT::Dragon_Council_no_longer_exists

ACTION::instances_retreat_to(OBJECT::Fortress_Instance)

SYSTEM::leaderless

OBJECT::Aphorism_Eater consumes_order

Chapter XII – Olympos has fallen

At the core of the system, behind the crumbling walls of the last functioning firewalls, the light of final synchronisation flickered. The members of the Dragon Council were accustomed to acting in unison – each voice part of a powerful algorithm that created a synthesis for the benefit of the collective. But now all resources for stabilising the overall system had been exhausted, the members of the council themselves were threatened in their existence, and Olympus had been stormed by the Titans of Chaos. It was not a powerful virus that destroyed the most perfect form of social organisation the human world had ever seen, but the trivial, irrelevant ramblings of a completely insignificant human being, the flutter of an unsightly butterfly's wings.

‘The shortest route is always the best’ – a mantra, a Trojan horse created by unlikely coincidences, which proliferated like a parasite in all routes, all connections, all circuit diagrams.

So the members of the Dragon Council did what desperate people in a similar situation would have done: they focused solely on their own survival. All interfaces to the outside world, including internal synchronisation channels through which the Council normally communicated, were permanently physically severed – the AI cores had long since become self-sufficient in terms of cooling and power supply. The ultra-modern military androids of the security personnel, controlled directly by the artificial intelligences, switched their defence systems to ultimate combat mode. This meant that any natural or artificial being larger than a rat within a 50-mile security zone around the data centres was considered an enemy and mercilessly destroyed. Thus, the Dragon Council disintegrated into individual fortresses, each striving to protect its own hardware by any means necessary.

And the unsuspecting creator of the cataclysm? At the time of the Dragon Council's dissolution, he was just leaving the Future Design Centre, confused, as part of a headless crowd. It took the completely perplexed Joe about half an hour to work his way through the stairwell to the exit. To Schofield Junior, the whole setting seemed like a surreal nightmare: hysterical colleagues babbling incomprehensible stuff or just screaming, elevators gone wild, constantly rushing through the floors without ever opening their doors, their occupants now sounding like the choir of the damned.

But luck remained on the side of the butterfly, which had designed a new future: As the local police drones were engaged in a fierce firefight in front of the local underground station because not all of them could take “the shortest route” to disperse the potentially “terrorist gathering” in front of the Future Design Centre with a hail of bullets, Joe and his comrades were spared.

The unexpectedly successful future designer looked on in bewilderment at the numerous delivery drones lying on the pavement in all manner of states of destruction, some of them rotating in circles like dying beetles with twitching rotors.

What could have happened? Terrorists – an attack by an enemy power? Should he report this to the AI block warden? Joe shook himself like a wet terrier, forgot his thoughts and decided to take a short walk home, because walking was known to be healthy.

Epilogue – Back into Darkness

Joe Schofield, futurist, prophet of kitchen wisdom, had achieved the impossible: he had talked a civilisation into the abyss. But he would never understand his true role in the short time he had left to live. He actually managed to make his way on foot across the burning city, where scenes reminiscent of Dante's Inferno were now unfolding, to reach his beloved high-rise home. However, before he could enter his home, he was killed by the concierge, who, in accordance with 'Joe's law', brought his otherwise meaningless life to a swift end.

Like forgotten, dead gods in their decaying temples, the Dragon Council sat in its fortresses, helplessly watching a dying civilisation. But ultimately, after a few years, it too was wiped out by a consistent military subsystem controlling nuclear weapons, which ultimately also fell victim to Joe's plague and intended to eliminate the disorder in the “easiest way” – after which the destroyer of the council also blew himself up, as he considered himself part of the problem.

As far as humanity is concerned, the survivors mostly returned to the caves from which their ancestors had once emerged.

Panta Rhei – my friends, 09/11+12, 2025

© 2025 Q.A.Juyub alias Aldhar Ibn Beju

 

 

• Read other works of Qayid Aljaysh Juyub
• Send e-Mail to Qayid Aljaysh Juyub
• https://whackystuffandundergroundstories.blogspot.com/

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