There didn't seem to be rhyme or reason to the timing of the outbursts.
The brain is the very center of our humanity, personality, and sense of being, yet we know almost nothing about its massive complexity. With the help of advanced technology, scientists have been able to map and analyze the brain down the individual neurons that determine our every thought and function; however, intelligence, with its companions consciousness and memory has remained hidden despite everything.
When does a human cease to be human through the amalgamation of mechanic and technological hardware? Does the ultimate convergence of these things make my brain nothing but software.
As a western society with fairly traditional views, England as a whole has moderately outdated views on what gender is as a concept (Woods 1995). Even with progressive views speaking of non-binary people or trans people; there is still some element of binary or even a linear spectrum. When realistically gender is a performance, which yes, we already know. So how do we begin to break this down in the future?
I woke up shouting in my bed. I woke up from my own scream.
A faint rumbling penetrated this ancient darkness, the first vibrations its halls experienced in millennia. The rhythmic whir and tumble of sound grew from wide and distant to a narrow, piercing point, ever sharper and closer. Earth broke free and fell a silent expanse, into an ominous red glow, crumbling upon the smooth stone floor of this covert temple, as a diamond drill bit stopped rotating, sensing air, and a small light source far below.
When Birdhead Father found the box baby (as his name in that moment went from being "Birdhead" to "Birdhead Father") the problem was his (literal) birdhead moved independently as a (literal) bird's might, and the more excited he got (and becoming a father for the first time was certainly exciting) the more wild became the thrashing of the birdhead. He was practiced in piecing together disparate images, but anything new to his well-pieced-together routine was an extra mystery, so images of his new son came to him in shattered pieces. Now was the time he most wanted and most needed to concentrate, but his head wouldn't let him.
The average male lion weighs between 350-400 pounds & grows up to nine feet long, three feet in height. Like us, lions have thirty teeth. Wild lions have a life span of twelve years, but in captivity can live up to twenty years. His maximum speed is thirty miles per hour over fifty yards. Lions have less bone mass than other animals of comparable size. Lions are able to move quietly due to the soft pads on their paws. They are even able to pinpoint the location a particular sound originated from. A typical Lion's Pride could consist of three males & possibly ten females. Though the females are the renowned hunters of the Pride, the King usually eats first. Usually, lions won't attack as long as you're facing them, just better hope they're not hungry.
“As you may know, the Red Queen Corporation, when it bought the U.S. Postal Service, decreed all of you would be replaced by robots.” Maury Holliday, the postal supervisor, had given a similar sort of speech for a million mornings (it seemed) with dispassionate tones he hoped sounded professional and authoritative and stone-like in its superior power, but certainly his subordinates must have seen it as the pure, broken, sucked dry dispassion it actually was. All the postal faces he spoke to were so drawn down by gravity, so prone to dying at any moment, how could he put any passion into any of this variety of speechifying? “We’ve known for a long time you’d be integral in training the robots who’d replace you. However, news has come down the pipeline that, considering the expense of programming robots, the Red Queen Corporation has outsourced the development to mad scientists who work on the cheap with the agreement that their robots may also be used one day to take over the world. That being said, as you train your robot replacements, please, and this is vital: don’t let them take over the world.”
High anxiety and claustrophobia have always been a part of my personal truth for as long as I can remember. When I first arrived in NYC back in 1979, I was not only overwhelmed by the scale of its buildings, bridges, and tunnels, but I was flabbergasted by the height of the skyscrapers, and the mindset of their occupants. Throughout the fourteen years of working in Seventh Ave schmatta business, I never felt comfortable riding an elevator, nor I was ever totally at peace working in a high-rise in Manhattan.