It could take days, even weeks, before we find our missing crewman.
Lieutenant Torres is equipping the Delta Flyer with the transwarp coil.
It'll allow us to cover more territory.
An away team will take it into transwarp space, where Tuvok believes we can track the sphere that abducted Seven of Nine.
Thanks to the Hansens, we'll be well prepared for an encounter with the Borg.
Their multi-adaptive shielding will make the Flyer virtually invisible to Borg sensors, and narrow beam transporters will allow us to penetrate the Sphere.
Mister Paris, you'll man the helm.
Commander Tuvok, tactical. Doctor, there's no telling what condition Seven will be in when we find her.
You'll come along.
EMH:
Yes, Captain.
JANEWAY:
I'll be leading the away team.
The rest of you will remain on Voyager and maintain position at the threshold of our transwarp conduit.
We may need tactical support when we return.
You'll be taking your orders from Commander Chakotay.
We'll be searching for one individual among thousands of drones.
Just thought I might give you a hand with whatever it is you're doing.
PARIS:
Oh, you may regret that.
Chakotay and I have to pick up a supply of biomimetic gel tomorrow morning, and I am trying to find to find the container that is listed as the proper transport device.
Starfleet standard issue L647X7.
NEELIX:
Well, sounds like another set of eyes won't hurt.
M34, no not that one. L647.
No, it's Y6.
Tom, if it's not too bold of me, I wonder if I could ask you something?
PARIS:
Sure, anything.
NEELIX:
I've heard you were in some trouble in the past.
Spent time in prison.
PARIS:
That's right.
NEELIX:
Do you, would you, tell me how you got in Trouble?
PARIS:
I've thought a lot about that, and it comes down to one simple fact.
I didn't Tell The Truth.
I made a mistake, which happens to people, but if I'd admitted that mistake it would have been a lot better.
But I lied about it, and it nearly ruined my life.
Why do you ask?
NEELIX:
Oh, no reason. Just wondered.
JANEWAY:
Would all of you excuse us, please?
I'd like to talk to Neelix alone.
(Tuvok and Kes leave. The EMH goes to his office after receiving a Look.)
JANEWAY:
Well, do you have anything to say for yourself?
NEELIX:
Only that I'm terribly sorry.
JANEWAY:
Oh. You're sorry.
Is that supposed to make everything better?
I don't really care whether you're sorry or not, Neelix.
At this point it doesn't matter.
I can't imagine what made you behave the way you did, lying to us, sneaking around behind our backs, covering up criminal activity.
Did you have some misguided reason to think this was acceptable behaviour?
NEELIX:
No, ma'am.
JANEWAY:
You've been one of my most trusted advisors since we began this journey.
How can I ever trust you again?
How can I ever listen to you without wondering whether you're telling the truth or not?
NEELIX:
I've never been dishonest to you before, I swear, Captain.
I just took one step.
A step that seemed perfectly reasonable.
And that step lead to another and another, and before I knew what I was involved in something I didn't know how to handle.
JANEWAY:
What was it?
What was so important that you were willing to throw away your principles?
NEELIX:
I needed a map.
JANEWAY:
A map?
NEELIX:
Captain, my usefulness to you was at an end.
I don't know anything about space beyond this point.
I couldn't let you go into the Nekrit Expanse without knowing what you faced.
JANEWAY:
You've been on this ship for two years.
I'd think by now you'd have learned that the first duty of any Starfleet officer is The Truth.
You violated that duty, Neelix, and there will be consequences.
NEELIX:
I'm prepared to leave the ship, Captain.
JANEWAY:
Oh no, it's not that easy.
You can't just walk away from your responsibilities just because you made a mistake.
You're part of a family now.
And you have obligations.
NEELIX:
But, I can't guide you.
I can't advise you.
I don't know what's coming.
JANEWAY:
Well, that's not the point, is it?
None of us knows what's coming.
That's what Starfleet is all about.
We are all in this together, Neelix, and we have to be able to count on each other no matter how hard it gets.
Do you understand?
NEELIX:
Yes. Yes, I do.
JANEWAY:
Well, that's good.
Report to deuterium maintenance at oh four hundred tomorrow morning.
You're going to spend the next two weeks scrubbing the exhaust manifolds.
That should give you time to think about what I've said.
"You don't invent Technology and then decide what to do with it -
You come up with An Artistic Problem,
and then
You have to invent the technology in order to accomplish it.
So, it is the opposite to what everyone thinks it is, and any Artist will tell you that.
And Art
- on ALL levels -
is just Technology.
Which why -
People will say 'Monkeys can do paintings'
Well, they can't, really.
They can do scribbling, they can do, like my 2 year old does
- but if you Want to Say
' I want to convey an emotion, to another Human Being',
that's something only Human Beings can do.
Animals can do it by roaring in your face or biting your hand off (that usually has an effect).
But to do it in A Painting; to do it in A Play, or A Story, in Poetry - or anything that's in The Arts - you have to be a Human Being.
The Patron creates The Propaganda - and what I wanted to do was go back to some of the Older Propaganda, which was consistant through ALL of The Societies, Mythology -
Which is to say,
"What Do They ALL Believe..?"
Because all of this propaganda was created INDEPENDENTLY.
And what are these things which they ALL believe, which is, Relationships with your Father, Relationships with your Society, Relationships with Your History, Relationships with The Gods - all of this stuff, it's old, but there were psychological motiffs that were created, through storytelling, primarily ORAL storytelling, that explained WHAT they believed in and WHO they believed in.
So what I wanted to do was go back and find the psychological motiffs that underlie that - those grow out of Popularism.
And to say that - not all - but a majority of people, BOYS, have a certain psychological relationship with Their Father -
And that's been going on through History, and trying to explain that to say :
"We Know Your DARKEST SECRET. And Therefore, You're Part of US.
Because We All Know The SAME THINGS -
We Know What You're Thinking About Your Mother;
We Know What You Think About Your Bother;
We Know What You Think About Your Father REALLY -"
“IT IS NOT TOO FAR-FETCHED TO PREDICT THAT SOME DAY OUR VERY OWN PLANET MAY BE PEOPLED ENTIRELY BY SUPERMEN!” — Joe Shuster assured us back in 1938, but comic-book reality predicts developments in our own in many other ways.
What we construct in our imaginations, we have a knack of building or discovering. We may not have flying men or invulnerable women racing among us, but we now have access to supertechnologies that once existed only in comic-book stories.
“Mother Boxes,” empathic personal computers like the ones in Jack Kirby’s Fourth World story cycle, are already here in embryonic form. Is the soothing contact offered by the Mother Box so different from the instant connection that a cell phone provides? Twenty-four-hour access to friends, family, and the buzz of constant social exchange can make us feel cocooned and safe in a reportedly hostile world.
In many cases, Mother herself can be summoned on the Box.
Metron was Kirby’s avatar of ruthless, questing intellect, whose Mobius Chair twisted through time and space to make him the god of couch potatoes, surfing channels, gathering information, without ever leaving the comfort of his armchair. Metron’s magic furniture seems less a wonder of supertechnology than a fact of daily life. As Kirby tried to tell us in his book of the same name, we are the new gods, just as we are the old ones, too.
There is already technology that allows people to drive remote-controlled cars with their minds. What’s to stop someone becoming Auto-Man, the Human Car? Secretly, he sits in his room, munching Maltesers at his computer screen, while he listlessly pilots his incredible RV supercar around town to save lives and fight the crime that ordinary police cars just aren’t fast enough to handle.
In so many ways, we’re already superhuman. Being extraordinary is so much a part of our heritage as human beings that we often overlook what we’ve done and how very unique it all is. We have made machines to extend our physical reach and the reach of our senses, allowing us to peer into the depths of space and outer time. Our cameras and receivers allow us to see across the entire electromagnetic spectrum. We can slow down, freeze, and accelerate time on our screens. We can study and manipulate microscopic worlds, print our names on single atoms, analyze soil on Mars, and observe the rings of Saturn at close range. Our voices and our photographic records of everything we’ve seen are carried at the speed of light on an expanding bubble of radio, into the infinite. Television broadcasts of the first moon landing are still traveling, growing fainter as the waves spread out. If you had a powerful enough receiver and a TV on a planet forty light-years from here, you could watch Neil Armstrong take his first step on mankind’s behalf and hear our silly, hopeful summer 1969 songs.
Our space machines are the remote physical tendrils of our species launched across gulfs of nothing to land on other worlds or to travel, gathering data until the signal fades, or until there’s no one left to listen. These ultimate extensions of human senses thread our awareness into the absolute freezing dark 10.518 billion miles from where you’re sitting. As I write, that’s how far Voyager 1, humanity’s farthest-reaching finger, has extended. Launched in 1977, it remains connected to its home world by radio and by the silver thread of its passage through time from launchpad to interstellar void. Individual humans are not super, but the organism of which we are all tiny cellular parts is most certainly that. The life-form that’s so big we forget it’s there, that turns minerals on its planet into tools to touch the infinite black gap between stars or probe the obliterating pressures at the bottom of the oceans. We are already part of a superbeing, a monster, a god, a living process that is so all encompassing that it is to an individual life what water is to fish. We are cells in the body of a singular three-billion-year-old life-form whose roots are in the Precambrian oceans and whose genetic wiring extends through the living structures of everything on the planet, connecting everything that has ever lived in one immense nervous system.
The superheroes may have their greatest value in a future where real superhuman beings are searching for role models. When the superhumans of tomorrow step dripping from their tanks, they could do much worse than to look to Superman for guidance. Superhero comics may yet find a purpose all along as the social realist fiction of tomorrow.
Superhero science has taught me this: Entire universes fit comfortably inside our skulls. Not just one or two but endless universes can be packed into that dark, wet, and bony hollow without breaking it open from the inside. The space in our heads will stretch to accommodate them all. The real doorway to the fifth dimension was always right here. Inside. That infinite interior space contains all the divine, the alien, and the unworldly we’ll ever need.
To find out what higher dimensions might look like, all we have to do is study the relationship between our 3-D world and the 2-D comics. A 4-D creature could look “down” on us through our walls, our clothes, even our skeletons. Our world would be a Cubist X-ray, and perhaps even our thoughts might be laid bare to their gaze.
As comics readers gazing down from a higher dimension perpendicular to the page surface, we can actually peer inside characters’ thoughts with balloons or captions that provide running commentary. We can also control time in a comics universe. We can stop on page 12 and look back to page 5 to check a story point we missed. The characters themselves continue to act out their own dramas in the same linear sequence, oblivious to our shifting perspective.
They can go back in time only with the help of supermachines, like the Flash’s cosmic treadmill, but we can look at 1938 Superman next to 1999 Superman without colliding the two stories anywhere but in our heads.
The Mikhaila Peterson Podcast #9 - Jordan B. Peterson - Family Update Ju...
Welcome to the Mikhaila Peterson Podcast, episode 9. This is a brief podcast with my dad Jordan Peterson about what happened to him and my family in the last year.
The following are links that may help elucidate some of the topics we discussed in this episode:
Akathisia - something dad really really really suffered from - https://w-bad.org/akathisia/ - “Many medical professionals don’t recognize akathisia or that it’s a drug-induced state. Instead, they write off the symptoms as a “worsening of mental illness” or other condition. Sometimes they even raise the dose of the offending drug and when the patient’s condition worsens as a result, they may prescribe more medication which can sometimes further exacerbate the problem or that fail to offer relief. If the medical professionals you encounter are ignorant about akathisia or attempt to blame it on “something else”, present them with medical information on the condition or search until you find a knowledgeable physician.” Catatonia and benzo withdrawal - https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/8835707/ Suicidality and benzodiazepines - https://www.psychiatrist.com/PCC/arti... “The majority of studies identified in this review report a positive correlation between prescribed benzodiazepines and attempted or completed suicide.”
" ....And so She has undergone The Transformation, and what is her initiation?
Typically, it is to sit, in a little hut
for a certain number of days,
and realiseWhat She Is.
She Sits There.
St. Bethany of Shermer :
Why?!?
What the fuck do You want from me..?!
I fucking hateYou..!!
I hate You..!!
The Voice :
He can't Hear You, you know --
That's Why We Needed You.
St. Bethany of Shermer :
Why didn't youtell me?
The Voice :
Would you...
Could you have believed me?
It was something you had to come to gradually.
Only after Everything You've Seen...
Everything You've Heard...
Could you possibly be able to accept
The Truth.
BETHNAY :
I don't want This.
It's too big.
The Voice :
That's what Jesus said --
I had to tell Him.
And you can imagine how that hurt The Father,
not to be able to tell The Son Himself
because one word from His lips
would destroy the boy's frail Human form.
So I had to deliver the news
to a scared child
who wanted nothing more than
to play with other children.
I had to tell this little boy, that
He was God's Only Son...
and it meant a Life of Persecution and eventual crucifixion
at the hands of the very people
He'd come to enlighten and redeem.
He begged me to take it all back.
As if I could.
He begged me to
"make it all Not-True."
I'll let you in on something, Bethany,
something I've never told anyone before.
If I had The Power...
I would have.
It's unfair.
It's unfair to ask a child to shoulder that responsibility
and it's unfair to ask you to do the same now.
I sympathise. I do.
I wish I could take it all back.
But I can't.
This... is
Who You Are.
BETHNAY :
Everything I am has been A Lie?
The Voice :
No! Knowing What You Now Know
doesn’t mean you're not
Who You Were -
You are Bethany Sloane.
No one can take that away from you, not even God.
All this means is a redefinition of that identity.
The incorporation of this new data into Who You Are.
Be Who You’ve Always Been.
Just... be this as well — from time to time.
She’s now a Woman.
And what is a Woman?
A Woman is a Vehicle of Life, and Life has overtaken her. She is a Vehicle now of Life.
A Woman’s What It is All About; the giving of birth and the giving of nourishment.
She’s identical with The Earth Goddess in her powers, and she’s got to realize that about herself.”
[Ready room]
PICARD: Come.
TROI: Captain, I just wondered if there's anything you wanted to talk about.
PICARD: I don't think so, Counsellor.
TROI: I would have thought having a Borg on the ship would stir some feelings.
PICARD: I'm quite recovered from my experience, thank you.
TROI: Sometimes even when a victim has dealt with his assault there are residual effects of the event that linger. You were treated violently by the Borg. Kidnapped, assaulted, mutilated. PICARD: Counsellor. Counsellor, I very much appreciate your concern for me, but I can assure you it is quite misplaced. I have carefully considered the implications of having a Borg on this ship. I have weighed the possible risks, and I am convinced that we are doing the right thing. Now, I am quite comfortable with my decision.
TROI: I see. Well, if at any point you want to talk more. PICARD: I shall certainly avail myself of your help.
ROBERT PICARD:
I was always Your Brother,
watching you receive the cheers,
watching you Break Every Rule
Our Father made
and
get away with it.
JEAN-LUC PICARD:
Why didn't you break a few rules?
ROBERT PICARD:
Because I was The Elder Brother,
The Responsible One.
It was My Job to look after you.
PICARD:
Look after me? You?
You were a bully.
ROBERT:
Sometimes. Maybe.
Sometimes I even enjoyed bullying you.
PICARD:
All right. Try it now.
ROBERT:
Did you come back, Jean-Luc?
Did you come back because
you wanted me to look after you again?
PICARD:
Damn you!
(And he punches his brother, sending him flying over some barrels into the vineyard proper. There they fight in the muddy irrigation ditches, through the vines until they finally fall back laughing)
PICARD:
You were asking for it, you know.
ROBERT:
Yes, but you needed it.
You have been terriblyhard on yourself.
PICARD:
You don't know, Robert!You don't know!
They took Everything I Was.
They used me to Kill and to Destroy,
and
I couldn't stop Them.
I should have been able to stop Them!
I tried. I tried so hard,
but I wasn't strong enough.
I wasn't good enough.
I should have been able to stop them.
I should! I should!
BORG QUEEN :
What's wrong Locutus?
Isn't this familiar? Organic minds are such fragile things.
How could you forget me so quickly?
We were very close,
You and I --
You can still hear Our Song . PICARD:
Yes, ...I remember You.
You were thereall the time.
But that ship and all The Borg on it were destroyed.
BORG QUEEN:
You think in such three-dimensional terms.
How small you've become.
Data understands me.
Don't you, Data?
(Data is standing in a Borg cubicle)
PICARD:
What have you done to him?
BORG QUEEN:
Given him what he always wanted,
Flesh and Blood.
PICARD:
Let him go.
He's not the one you want.
BORG QUEEN:
Are you offering yourself to us?
PICARD:
Offering myself....?
...That's it. I remember now.
It wasn't enough that you assimilate me.
I had to give myself freely to the Borg, ...to you.
BORG QUEEN: You flatter yourself. I've overseen the assimilation of countless millions. You were no different.
PICARD: You're lying. You wanted more than just another Borg drone.
You wanted a human being with a mind of his own, who could bridge the gulf between humanity and the Borg. You wanted a counterpart, but I resisted.
I fought you.
BORG QUEEN: You can't begin to imagine the life you denied yourself.
PICARD: It's not too late. Locutus could still be with you, just in the way you wanted. An equal.
Let Data go and I will take my place at your side, willingly without any resistance.
BORG QUEEN: Such a noble creature. A quality we sometimes lack. We will add your distinctiveness to our own. Welcome home, ...Locutus.
ROBERT:
So, my brother is a human being after all.
This is going to be with you a long time, Jean-Luc. A long time.
You have to learn to live with it. You have a simple choice now.
Live with it below the sea with Louis, or above the clouds with the Enterprise.
PICARD:
You know, I think you were right after all.
I think I did come back so that you could help me.
