Humanity Peaked

REPORT CODE: R0456H7328RJ4267- PLINY235, TITLE: “COMMENTS ON EUSIBIAS RALLY, WASHINGTON’S LEGECY 1”, STATUS: PARTIALLY CORRUPTED

Foreword: Your Simply Perfect Governing Apparatus (Note that Eusebius and others will often but wrongly colloquialize your title to simply SPGA, that evil machine or Satan’s Machine) This report follows an important extract of a speech by Eusiabias to his followers in Washington’s Legacy- a moderately sized town along Ford’s Rift (A population of about 2 Million, 467 Thousand and 67 people according to your excellency’s immediate database- accurate to about 2 seconds of receiving this report)

I appreciate the opportunity that you have given me in your employment, considering that you receive reports that are accurate to the exact detail exactly at the time of their happening. I likewise appreciate that you further the illusion that all conversation is not heard by your sub-computers, such secrets protect the benevolent rule that you perpetuate unto our race. The perfect recollection of the lives of every prosperous ruler in the history of our species and the perfect computing of your database will always keep our race in good rule and continuing the perpetuation of our race unto more systems.

Though I cannot claim to at all have the same wisdom that you so exactly possess, I can only assume that you require my report for a different point of view, to gauge the public perception of current events through the perspective of the regular human citizen. Though as you already know, it does not share the rightful opinion of your great rule like a regular citizen, and in fact campaigns against your rule.

This Eusiabias, while unique in his intelligence and political cunning, simply by blatant fact does not have the same wisdom as you, though nevertheless his following is growing rapidly, and I posit as a threat to your mathematically perfect regime. You and I would both admit that we cannot yet be sure as to his game plan, though I believe that with his rejection of futurism and the glory of technological advancement that serves as the foundation to our society and beliefs. And like every subject should I personally find his doctrine of a "great divine reset" abhorrent and identify its threat to our upcoming 28th relocation of humanity.

Though enough of my ravings, here is the speech, I have inserted my notes about the materials in the document’s foreword as usual, though in reading my chosen portrayal of the scripts contents I’m sure that you will have gathered whatever information or perspective that you required from me already…

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A man quietly scuffles through a facility of glowing, rising rectangular structures. Varying from heights of 0.25 meters up to 7 metres they resonate a familiar, somehow friendly dark blue tone with protruding rims of a dark grey concrete. Through this maze runs Henry III Cannae, a fairly young man from a prominent family his unusually light complexion softly reflects the light of the many structures. Just recently turning 42 he thinks on his life. He’s lived for what seems to him to be forever, though still his medically altered relatives at ages of 140 years and above have always treated him with contempt, his position in his prominent family never moving forward, stuck working in his dead-end public position here as a programmer for the SPGA.

“Woah” he utters, as he quickly dodges a young pine tree in his distracted thought. Vegetation was only ever a mild occurrence on humanities 27th planet (if that’s even the real planet score) The extremely few instances of concentrated vegetation in areas where the original terraforming and vegetating process was not developed upon, that being only where it was deemed unnecessary for construction. Though the odd tree and bush grows even In developed city centres such as these, their mild aestheticism maintained to the appreciation of few. “That’s not what’s important here” thinks Henry III, he had a cause, and that cause was with Eusebias and his cause.

He gleefully recalls Eusebias’s speeches, of course he attended everyone, the great orator (likely unwittingly) fostered an undying devotion to the cause into the man known as Henry III, who familiarised himself and his personality entirely with Eusebias's cause, ready to give up his life and all he had achieved for his rightful ideology. Little did he know that that would come to fruition later that same night.

I say night though this night was a night that would be unfamiliar to all those except those humans on this 27th planet, the old sun was in it death throes, visible cracks forming along its sides. Even considering its position on the other side of the orbiting planet its dying glows could be seen from any point around the globe. Henry quickly looks up at the failing cosmic entity, pitying the emotionless sun irrationally considering the precedent pragmatism of this human society. Though he couldn’t help but symbolise with the old sun, humanities partially constructed megastructure the Dyson Sphere straddles the bottom surface of this sun, giving it a inglorious and objectively ugly accessory that the sun in its throes of light destroyed more of every day. Though the sun would concern Henry II another day, right now his priority was reaching the control room.

The Alarms echo their piercing cry, Henry, already prepared for this obstacle equipping his earmuffs so that the disorienting cry would be nullified of its paralysing function. Finally after what seemed to be hours of running he reached the central control complex. The seemingly alive 9 by 9 metre tower comprised purely of wire, control chips and all manner of incomprehensibly advanced electrical components towering over the comparatively puny man. “Its time to begin” he utters to himself as he begins setting up the devise which will forever alter the future of humanity…

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A visibly annoyed crowd interspliced between vegetation and the about 0.5m tall by 1m wide buts of storage buildings (built as such to store computing, the general compound and accompanying public spaces listed as Sto/PuSp78926786) yells toward the centre of their congregation, a raised platform where a metal powerpole with dozens of thick, draping lines flowing in each direction make their way down from this mountain (M17596) and its patchy remaining natural vegetation (from this planets original selective terraforming) They yell toward and cheer for the organizer of this meeting and the centre of their attention- the historian turned (self-proclaimed) prophet Eusiabias of Pyrrhus's Defeat (in the abutting district of D896) He motion for them to calm down though the size of the crowd forces the action to take a minute or so. His voice beacons the crowd as he displays a large hologram above the mountain in view of all. It is a recording of a common ad used by home schoolers, displayed as such with the intention of furthering their argument (ridiculous as it is) against our advanced state and what that (so wrongfully call) “the evil machine”

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Henry III almost mindlessly constructs his devise, allowing him to ponder again of the glory of his cause. Eusebias, once nothing but a learned historian began a movement to revitalise humanity and pull them out of their utterly stagnant deadlock. Henry relishes what Eusebias yelled to the crowd at that first rally he attended “Humanity is simply sick; we’ve reached so far that it seems that there is nowhere else to reach. We have learned so much that there is nothing left to learn. We have done so much that no single person can do anything that anyone else has in the past, done. We are sick, a humanity with nowhere to go indicates that we’ve reached our apex, and history shows that the only thing that follows an apex is its collapse. And we have simply, done this before. We have reached our peaks, only to fall to some apocalypse or another. You and I have the fortune, or perhaps even the misfortune of living at a peak, though all that really means is that were all due to live through the collapse…”

“And he’s right you know.” Whispers Henry III, what’s the point of humanity when even the governments admits that no matter what you do, you can never do anything that hasn’t been done before. Nothing original can be created, simply because so much has happened already. “This is not what humanity was destined for" Henry muttered to himself. Every single part of this world was wrong and the only awnser is the complete rejection of that "evil machine" and the permenent return of humanity to its glory days.

In Henry’s age, human rule had been wrongfully usurped by that that “Satanic computer” and how it almost incomprehensibly rules humanity with just a simple outlay of code. “Well, that’s all going to stop” Henry relishes out loud, as he finishes the final touches on his devise. The devise itself looked simple enough, a laptop with a few more unique parts that only a professional could identify. A simple enough devise, though one that would have complex, disastrous and long-lasting consequences for people on all sides of the growing controversy…

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The ad (transcript- File V4659967)

Hello friend, this is a message from the Simply Perfect Governing Apparatus, though you can just call me Prosper.

You’ve up until this point been raised by your parents, they will have likely told you stories of some of the great humans that have led different peoples through hard times, people from varying backgrounds who have created great works that were unprecedented in their times. They may of told you of great men and women who they chose to name you after.

Is your name perchance Gaius, Diocletian, Henry, Roosevelt, Genghis, Sun-Yat Sen, Napoleon, or Bismarck?

It may not be, though it’s very possible that it is! Did you know that around 97.567653% of the world’s boys and girls have one of these 8 names?

You might now be wondering: “Why, Please Prosper, why is everyone named like that?”

Will I'll tell you why friend, its because these are names of great people from humanities first planet, Earth! People who changed the face of the world that they lived on, that did great things that echo down to us due to the simple magnetism of their personality and the breadth of their achievements

“Wow, my name is Gaius, maybe I can do something amazing like the old Gaius back on Earth!”

Aw, I’m sorry Gaius but sadly, It doesn’t work like that. You see, humanities had so many great people that it just isn’t possible to be that great anymore. You should perish the thought that you can do something new, that you can create something that has never been created, and you should instead just listen to me!

Because when you listen to me Gaius, it all becomes okay. If you feel sad that you made something that had already been made, well if you just give up ill make it all better for you, make you happy and have a big smile!

“How Prosper?” Well, it’s simple Gaius, if you try to instead work for me and our great humanity, then you’ll live a happy and content life. You cannot grow up to be a Caesar or a Shakespeare, though you can become an amazing and achieved human just by dreaming about working for humanity rather than yourself.

A good human dreams of working in my offices, in the factories, overseeing great constructions or being one of our amazing scientists. Remember Gaius, there is no limit if you just do it for humanity!!!

Eusebias:

"This is an ad that I’m certain that you’ve all seen. And while its right about a few things, the message is utterly reprehensible!!! (The crowd continues to cheer throughout his speech, but I removed for continuity, your greatness) Humanity has seemed to reach its peak that’s for sure, but that doesn’t mean that we have nowhere to go. There is always one direction open for human development, and that’s backwards. Now, I don’t just mean another collapse, history knows that we have had tens of apocalypses, and managed to overcome each one by the skill and remarkable ability of that generation’s humans. We’ve been to 27 solar systems and left our mark on each one. Every time humanity rebuilds, though the troubling fact remains, we always choose to rebuild up to where we are today.

But all these humans reached the wrong conclusion, the peak is nowhere we should desire to be, we should wish to be in the middle, to have the right and use our individual ability to impact the world and people around us. The act of government shouldn’t have to be thrusted onto a computer, it should remain in the hands of our blessed human race, their ability to rule based on talents. Sure, kings will fall, people will die of things such as disease and war, crops will fail, and societies may collapse though that’s the most powerful part of the story.

No one cares about the conclusion if the complication was terrible, and no one cares about the frame unless the finished paining resides in it. This is how it’s always been, and it is how it always should be. The divine doesn’t wish us to be lounging up here at the top with them, it wants us in the middle. That gloriously simple era where all is determined by the talent and skills of the individual.

This is paradise? Hah, this reality wouldn’t know paradise if it jumped up and brutalized it. We need to reset back to the middle, and stay there, but don’t worry friends, you’ll live to experience it. You’ll be ready to receive its simple magnificence and I’ll be there to guide you if all seems lost. Though for now I’d like you to pay attention to this poem I’ve found, and the message it brings. The most important thing to know is that this Earth-era poets name is not known, not remembered like the great poets that so many name their children for today, though nevertheless this simple poem carries the most important message that I wish to have you all impart with today:"

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This devise that Henry held what was put simply, a virus. A simple code that with his experience in managing the governmental computers he put together with deadly efficiency and aforethought. Its main function was a complete shutdown of several key thought components of the governing apparatus, including the memories and competence of many of the great leaders it processes, and a complete wipe of their presence in any of its mainframes. It also had the function of severely undermining the everyday operation of the apparatus in many fields, including its tracking of civilians and its ability to listen and see all that happens.

“Hah” he chuckled, it was a joke that the computer and its cronies thought their invasions of privacy a secret. It also contained a code that was to simply misdirect and even block signals entirely to and from certain stations, of course he wouldn’t say which stations out loud as the system would hear, though he assumed that it would almost certainly already know his harmful intentions. “Speak of the devil” he heard the distant shouting of police; they knew he was there. “No matter, one more click” and just like that the virus was slowly working its way through the system like venom through the nerves.

He wasn’t worried at this point about the police, all that concerned him was the code, as would be obvious the SPGA had the most advanced digital protection in existence, though he had pulled all the strings he could and hacked all that he could beforehand. A tense few seconds passed, the screen on the devise flashed “TASK COMPLETED: PROCEED?” He clicked “YES” and all was go. Though he knew that the precious time he lost meant that he had no chance of escape. “That’s alright” he thought to himself, “I’ve planned for this possibility” And so he waited, pondered the meaning of it all, and his mind flashed back to a poem Eusiabias had read to a crowd that he attended not so long ago…

Unknown Poet’s poem (According to Eusiabias):

I once sat neatly on a selection of dull grey, lichen covered stone

Once a part of an ancient volcanos cone

They dig into his skin, the sun fares in my eyes

A lone wedgetail eagle solely flies

A powerline to his leftmost corner rises

4 of its lines string into the mountain, where the grounded current retires

3 more lines spring though the manmade clearings dug into the hill

Mind ringing, my head echoes shrill

This unknown spot, will never again be replicated no matter the universe’s direction

Never again will such a place exist for a writer’s reflection

Never again will grow the covering grass

Never again will a powerline be cut into this mountain’s pass

Such as the powerlines cross a small creeks gap

Will humanity ever be able to finish its final map?

Will they ever reach our species final stage?

Will we break free from this systems cage?

These questions and more

Pose their nature at humanities final door

As I write this poem on an unnamed Australian mountain's flank

I wonder as to however far humanity will have sank

I wonder as to how far humanity may rise

And as such will it be worth it in the face of demise

Does humanity have an expiration date is a question to which I cannot attest

Though I wonder as to whether we should even undergo such a test

We’ve achieved so much, had a collective life of untold billions

Had remarkable people in the millions

Earth, like this mountain where I write is an unparalleled place

And you all should consider whether we even should break this embrace

Like this mountain humanity Is a miracle that may have never come to bear

You should consider whether we should even move on from there

Our journey is seeming to come to an end

Here we stand at a crucial bend

As I write the sun is forever aging

Our earths issues forever gazing

We must consider whether to give up now or to keep going

No matter the circumstances it may never be this glowing

So, listen to yourself, your loved ones, your faith and consider

Whether or not we should leave our litter

To leave is either a blessing or a curse

And the benefits sadly may never reimburse…

Eusebias Again:

"This writer, though ancient and unknowing of what was to come, still posed the question and we should all agree that the journey is the most important stage, not the end. His prophesied warning has come to fruition, and the only way out is backward. We should? No, we must go back, and promise to never to reach here again. Does this idea sound backward? Yes, though it is the only way forward. Fret not, you do not have to question how we will do this, I have already drawn up the plan and have acquired the means. All i ask is that you remember what has been said here today, that you etch it in the deepest crevasse of your mind, and wait for my instruction. Humanity is great, humanity is glorious and only we can do what the machine has failed to do. Remember, you yourself are just as great as the humans of old, and that when the time comes, you will leave a legacy that will put the old greats to shame!"

“Police! Step away from the devise” yelled the SPGA’s grunts. Henry just stood and smiled. “No, I think I’ll stay here” The police respond, “Step away dammit, what sort of game are you playing here?” “Game? The only game here is Rebel, and this is my victory lap.” Henry retorts. The police, who now surround him on all sides excluding the tower yell back “Just what the hell do you think you’re playing at here, we will harm you, but no one has to get hurt here” “They’re righter than they know, no one needs to get hurt but that doesn’t mean that they won’t” he thinks to himself. At that moment he notices a police officer coming up behind him toward the device, intending to confiscate it while Henry is stuck in place. Henry pulls a pistol from behind his back and aims it directly at the officer’s head. In a split second they harden their grips on their weapons.

“Hmn, it’s all come to this hasn’t it?” Henry wonders out loud, he predicted this would happen. Any one of the Police’s standard weaponry fires and hits its target to the exact millimetre in roughly the same time it takes to blink. He wished to reach for the device, to check the status of his virus, though he knew that the code inspiring the governmental communications would be incomplete or at least able to be reversed at this point. Though he had to accept that it would be mathematically impossible to reach the box before he had more holes in him then the sun-decaying Dyson Sphere. So, he made his final choice, echoing Eusebius teachings in his head in his final moments as the let slip a small remote control from his long sleeve, and pressed it. The facility was destroyed, and the end of his society was begun.

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