The Brain Page 5
CHAPTER V
In the spring of 1961 and thereafter for a whole year _any_ piece ofpaper handwritten by or originating from Semper Fidelis Lee, Ph.D.;F.R.E.S.; etc. etc. would have been of the keenest interest to theF.B.I.; to the American Military Intelligence and incidentally to ascore of their competitors all over the globe.
Nothing of the sort, however, could be unearthed by the most diligentsearch until the armistice day of 1963. On that date an old man who hadalways wanted to die with his boots on, did just that. He was GeneralJefferson E. Lee, formerly of the Marines. He collapsed under a heartattack in one of the happiest moments of his declining years: whilewatching a parade of World War II veterans of the Marines....
He was the one man with whom the entomologist son had completely fallenout for over 25 years. The dossiers of the secret services revealed thisfact and it was further corroborated by two well-known psychiatrists:Drs. Bondy and Mellish--now of Park Avenue and Beverly Hillsrespectively--who gave it as their considered professional opinion thatthe son and the father had been most bitter enemies.
While all this, of course, was very logical, consistent, andpainstakingly ascertained, it nevertheless so happened that a studentnurse quite by accident _did_ find: not mere scraps and pieces of paper,but a whole sheaf of manuscripts in the handwriting of Semper FidelisLee, Ph.D.; F.R.E.S. She found them in a hiding place so old-fashionedand obsolete that even the most juvenile of all juvenile delinquentswould have considered it as an insult to his intelligence. In short: thenurse took those manuscripts out of the General Jefferson E. Lee's bootsas she undressed the body of the old gentleman. A hastily scrawled notewas folded around one half of the sheaf.
"Dear father," it read. "You were right and I was wrong. So I guess I'dbetter go on another hunting expedition with my little green drum and mylittle butterfly net. So long, Dad. P. S. Contents of this won'tinterest you. But keep it anyway--stuff your boots with it if you like."
It couldn't be determined whether the late general ever had taken aninterest in the stuff apart from making the suggested use of it.Moreover, by that time, more than two years after the hue and cry, noteven the secret services had much of an interest in the old story.Besides, their medical experts could not fail with their usualpenetrating intelligence to see through the thin camouflage of a"scientific" paper the sadly deteriorating mind as it began to write:
* * * * *
Skull Hotel, Cephalon, Ariz. Nov. 7th, 1960., 5 a.m.
This is the second sleepless night in a row. Last night it was fromtrying to convince myself that my senses had deceived me or else that Iwas mad. This night it is because I'm forced to admit the reality of thephenomena as first manifested Nov. 6th from 12:45 a.m. to 1:30 a.m.approximately.
In the light of tonight's experience I must revise the disorderly andprobably neurotic notes I jotted down yesterday. I've got to bring someorder into this whole matter, if for no other reason than thepreservation of my own sanity. Brought tentatively to formula, theseappear to be the main facts:
1. The Brain possessed with a "life" and with a personality of its own.
2. That personality expresses itself in the form of human speechalthough the voice is synthetic or mechanical.
3. The instrument used by The Brain for the expression of itspersonality is a "pulsemeter," i.e. essentially a television radio.
4. The locale of The Brain's self-expression is the "pineal gland"supposed to be seat of extrasensory apperception in the human brain.(That's quite a coincidence; remains to be seen whether the phenomenaare limited to that locale or occur elsewhere.)
5. The Brain's personality indubitably attempts to establish contactwith another personality, i.e. with me. For this The Brain uses acalling signal which has my name and personal description in it.
6. The only other linguistic phenomenon yesterday was Aristotle's "Ithink therefore I am." (It is doubtful whether this indicates anyknowledge of Aristotle on the part of The Brain. I wouldn't exclude thepossibility that The Brain has accidentally and originally hit upon theidentical words by way of expressing itself.)
7. The manner of The Brain's self-expression appears to be stronglyemotional. (I would go so far as to say: infantile and immature.) Now,there is a rather strange contrast between this undeveloped manner ofself-expression and the enormous intellectual capacity of The Brain.
So much about the facts. I could and should have formulated thoseyesterday. What kept me from doing so were the vistas opened by thosefacts. These are so enormous, so utterly incalculable that my mind wentdizzy over these vast horizons. Consequently I mentally rejected thefacts as impossible. Somebody once slapped Edison's face because he feltoutraged by Edison's presenting a "talking machine." That's humannature, I suppose. Small wonder then that my ratio felt outraged as itwas confronted with a machine that has a life and has a personality.Come to think of it: Human imagination has always conceived of suchmachines as a possibility, even a reality--in less rational times thanour's that is....
Think of Heron's steam engine; it even looked like a man and was thoughtof as a magically living thing. Think of the Moloch gods which werefurnaces. Think of all those magic swords and shields and helmets whichwere living things to their carriers. Think of the sailing ships;machines they, too; but what a life, what a personality they had for thecrews aboard. Even in the last war pilots had their gremlins, theirmachines to them were living things. All imagination, of course, butthen: everything we call a reality in this man-made world has its originin man's imagination, hasn't it?
Now, and to be exact as possible, what happened last night was this:
12:00. Entered station P. G. (pineal gland). Pulsemeter still at oldplace, not taken out for repair work as I had feared. Main Power currentcut 12:20 as every night. Gus called to front room: rush of business asusual at that hour.
12:30. Reestablished closest approximation to preexisting conditionsaccording to the most important of all experimental laws: "if some newphenomenon occurs, change _nothing_ in the arrangement of apparatusuntil you know what causes it." Plugged in from "nervusvagus" to "nervustrigeminus." Result: wave oscillations, pulse beatings as of yesterday.
12:45. Plugged in P. G....
12:50. First manifestation of weird rasping sounds which precede speechformation. This followed by The Brain's calling signal; much clearerthis time and slightly varied: "Lee, Semper Fidelis, 39; _sensitive_."(Note: the synthetic quality, the metallic coldness of that voice soincongruous with its emotional tones; it stands my hair on end.)
1 a.m.: (Approximately; things happen too fast). A veritable burst ofwhispering, breathless communications. As a person would speak over thephone when there are robbers in the house. The words fairly tumble overone another. The Brain uses colloquial American but after the manner ofa foreigner who knows the phraseology only from books and feelsunnatural and awkward about using it. I understand only about one half:
Pineal Gland; not designed to be ... but functions ... center of theextra sensory.... You, Lee, sensitivity 208 ... highest within Brainstaff ... chosen instrument.... Be here every night ... intercom ...only between one and two a.m. ... low current enables contact lowintelligence....
"What was that?" I must have exclaimed that aloud. By that time I wasalready confused. It all came so thick and fast and breathless.Communication was as bad as by long distance in an electric storm. Therewas an angry turmoil in the microphones and the green dancer seemedconvulsed in agony. This for about five seconds and then the voiceagain: calmer now, more distinct, slow but with restrained impatience;like a teacher speaking to a dumb boy:
"I say: only--with--my--power current--cut--off--canI--tune--down--my--high frequency--intellect--to--your--lowlevel--intelligence--period--have--I--succeeded--in--making--myself--absolutely--clear--question--mark."
My answer to that was one of those embarrassing conditioned reflexes; itwas: "Yes, sir," and that was exactly the way I felt, like a G. I. Joewho's got the colonel on the phone.
"Fine!" I distinctly heard the irony in that metallic voice: "Fine--Lee:loyal, sensitive; not very intelligent--but will do. After 2 a.m.residual currents too low. Speech quite a strain--Animal noises whollyinadequate for intelligent intercom--Disgusting rather--nuisanceapproaching: keep your mouth shut--plug out."
I'd never thought of Gus as a nuisance before but now I cursed himinwardly as he came down the alley like a well aimed ball, beaming witheagerness to be helpful and blissfully ignorant that he was bursting themost vital communication I had ever established in my life. He insistedI take his panacea for all human ills;
"Have a cup of coffee" and then go home because I still "looked likehell." I did, because by that time it was 1:30 a.m. and I couldn't hopeto reestablish contact again before the deadline.
Now I've got to pull myself together and analyze this thing in arational manner. Impressions of the first night now stand confirmed asfollows: The pineal gland is the only place of rendezvous between me andThe Brain. The meeting of our minds takes place on the plane of the"extrasensory." I am the "chosen instrument" because of my high"sensitivity rating" as established by The Brain. (Never knew that I was"psychic" before this happened.) Even so, neither The Brain nor I seemto be "psychic" in the spiritual sense. Our communication requires: A)human speech, (faculty for that acquired by The Brain with obviousdifficulty.) B) a mechanical transmitter, i.e. a radionic apparatus likethe pulsemeter.
I feel greatly comforted by these facts; they help to keep this wholething on a rational basis. I'm definitely not "hearing voices" nor"seeing ghosts."
The Brain shows itself extremely anxious to establish communication withme. The breathless manner of speaking, the explicit and practicalinstructions (obviously premeditated) to ascertain the functionings ofcontact give the impression that it is almost a matter of life and deathfor The Brain to speak to me....
I cannot help wondering about that. My idea would be that The Brain doesnot want to speak _to_ me as much as it wants to hear _from_ me. If thiswere so it would deepen the riddle even more. For what have I got in theway of knowledge that The Brain hasn't got? After all, The Brain hasbeen functioning for quite some time. It was given innumerable problemsto digest and it has solved them with truly superhuman speed andefficiency. I have reason strongly to suspect that there isn't a book inthe Library of Congress which has not been fed to The Brain forthought-digest and as a lubricant for its cerebration processes(excepting fiction and metaphysics, of course). This being so; what doesThe Brain expect? What can I possibly contribute to an intelligence25,000 times greater than human intelligence?
But the thing which makes me wonder more than anything else, the biggestenigma of all, is the _character_ of The Brain as it manifests itself inthe manifestations. As I try to put the experiences of the first nighttogether with those of the second night I'm stumbling overcontradictions in The Brain's personality which won't add up, whichdon't make sense; as for instance:
The "I think, therefore I am" of the first night. Maybe it was Greekphilosophy, but it also was the prattling of an infant delighted by thediscovery that it can speak. There was an absolute innocence in that.Ridiculous as this may sound, I found it _touching_ I completely forgot,I didn't care a damn whether or not this came from a _machine_.Unmistakeably it was _baby talk_ and as such it moved my heart. In fact,as now I see it, it was _this_ more than any other or scientific reasonwhich occupied my mind, which made me anxious to go back to thatfantastic cradle whence these sounds had come.
But then last night; what did I find? A completely changed personality!It talks tough. It uses slang. It treats me as if it were some spoiledbrat and I had the misfortune of being its mother or nurse: "Be thereevery night" and so on. Deliberately it insults me: "your lowintelligence level" etc. etc. It actually throws tantrums if I fail tounderstand immediately. It hurls its superiority into my face in thenastiest manner. "Have I succeeded in making myself absolutely clear?"It plainly shows contempt, not only for my own person by thecondescending manner of its: "Lee, not very intelligent; but will do."It shows the selfsame contempt for other human beings such as GusKrinsley to whom it was pleased to refer as: "nuisance approaching"....
What the hell am I to make of that kind of a character? Last night: ababy; rather a sweet and charming one. 24 hours later: an obnoxiouslittle brat, a little Hitler of a house tyrant; makes you just itch tospank its behind. If only The Brain _had_ a behind....
Worst of all: How can I reconcile those two contraditions, the sweetbaby and the precocious brat, with the third and biggest of allcontraries: _How do these two go together with an intelligence 25,000times human intelligence?_ It doesn't add up, it doesn't make sense;that's all there is to it....
* * * * *
The Skull-Hotel, Cephalon, Ariz. Nov. 9th. 3 a.m.
I didn't go to the P. G. last night for two main reasons: In the firstplace I must be careful so as not to raise any suspicions on Gus' part.Rarely, if ever, have I visited him for two nights in succession in thepast and he might well begin to ponder my reasons if now I should make ahabit of it. Especially since Gus happens to possess one of the keenestminds I ever met and his curiosity already has been awakened by mypreoccupation with that one and fairly simple gadget: the pulsemeter.
In the second place I feel the absolute necessity of establishing myindependence as against the will of The Brain. That command two nightsago for me to be on the spot _every_ night was just too preemptory forme to oblige. This isn't the army and The Brain is no commandinggeneral.
In our last communication The Brain seemed to labor under the impressionthat I was unconditionally at its beck and call. Of course, I've swornthe "Oath of the Brain," but that doesn't make me The Brain's slave. Infact--and in order to clarify this subject once and for all--whilepersonally I haven't created The Brain and cannot take any credit forthat, it nevertheless remains true that the _species_ to which I belong,i.e. "homo sapiens" _has_ created The Brain.
If any question of rank enters into the picture at all, it is quiteobvious that I, as a member of the human race, rank _paternity_ over TheBrain so that naturally The Brain should owe me filial obedience ratherthan the other way around no matter how superior The Brain'sintelligence may be. It would appear to me that the sooner The Brainrealizes its position, I might say "its station in life," the better itwould be for The Brain itself and for everybody else concerned.
So these were the reasons why I refrained purposely from visiting the P.G. last night. Tonight, however, I couldn't restrain my curiosity anylonger and what happened, told as exactly and as concise as possible,was this:
12:30 a.m.: Contact established. The Brain comes through with itscalling signal. It repeats this about ten times questioning at first andthen placing more and more stress upon the word "sensitive" in mypersonal description. It strikes me that these repetitions are tuning-inand warming-up processes. The Brain stands in need of ascertaining mypresence and of adjusting to it it seems; just about like a blind manmay test his footing and the echoes before he walks into an unfamiliarroom.
12:35 a.m. Identification completed, there is a brief pause (almost asif a person consults a notebook before making a phone call). Thenrapidly, eagerly The Brain fires a series of questions at me, soshockingly preposterous, so absurd that I find it extremely hardto.... Anyway, here are the details:
Information is wanted on points mentioned in scientific literature butnever explained. Lee, answer please:
"How many gods are there?
"Did gods make man or did man make the gods?
"How many angels _can_ stand on the point of a needle?"
"What are the mechanics of a god? Name type of power plant, cellconstruction, motoric organs, other engineering features essential toexercise of divine power...."
"Heaven--is it a celestial soul factory?
"Hell--is it a repair shop for damaged souls?
"Please give every available detail about heavenly manufacturingprocesses, type of equip
ment used, organization of assembly lines etc.etc.
"Likewise about the oven for heat treatments as used in hell for majorsoul-overhauls.
"How do prefabricated souls get to either heaven or hell? Problem oflogistics, how solved? Thermodynamics? If so, state whether rocket orjet-propulsion involved.
"Are souls really immortal? In that case; why don't we copy divinemethods in the production of durable goods on earth?
"Answer Lee, answer, answer!" (This with incredible vehemence, with ashaking of that eerie metallic voice which pounded the drums of my ears.And then--tense silence....)
I cannot possibly describe the storms of emotions and thoughts whichthis incredible muddle raised in me. I didn't know whether to laugh orto cry and whether I had gone nuts of whether it was The Brain, I wasconfounded, thunderstruck, deprived of the power of speech. To think ofThe Brain, a _machine_ raising question about the nature of the _Deity_!The Brain asking information about God and man and heaven and hell withthe simplicity of a stranger who asks the nearest cop: "Which way to thecity hall?" Just like that. As if philosophers and religionists andcommon men had not raked their brains in vain over these problems forthe last ten thousand years.
And even more fantastic: while it asks all those questions The Brainpatently has already formed the most definite opinions of its own. Beinga machine itself, it conceives of the Deity as another machine! Madness,of course, but then The Brain's madness, like Hamlet's, had method init.
Why, of course, it's strictly logical: just as we assume that _we_ arecreated "in the image" of the Deity and consequently visualize the Deityis our's by the very same token The Brain's god is a high-powered robot,and The Brain's heaven is a _factory_ and The Brain's hell is a repairshop for damaged souls.... I dare say it's all very natural.
But then; for heaven's sake, what am _I_ going to do about this? I'mneither a minister nor a philosopher; I'm an agnostic if I'm anything inthis particular field....
That was about the gist of the confused torrents which whirled throughmy head; and as I said before, I was struck dumb--and all the time the"green dancer" before my eyes writhed under mental torture and theintense metallic voice kept pounding; "Answer, Lee, answer, answer!"
At last I pulled myself together sufficiently to say something. I triedto explain how it were not given to man to know the nature of the Deity.How certain groups of humans conceived of many gods and others of onlyone god. That, however, in the case of Christianity this one god waspossessed with three different personalities or qualities which togetherformed a Trinity--and so on and so forth. It was the most miserablestammerings, I felt I was getting redder and redder in the face as Iuttered them. Never before had I felt hopelessly inadequate as in therole of a theologian. It was ghastly....
In the beginning The Brain listened avidly. Soon however it registereddissatisfaction and impatience; this manifested through hissing andbuzzing noises in the phones and the "green dancer's" archings inagitated tremolo. And then The Brain's voice cutting like a hacksaw:
"That will do, Lee. Your generalities are utterly lacking in precision.Your abysmal ignorance in matters of celestial technology is mostdisappointing. Your description vaguely points to electronic machines ofthe radio transmitter type. Please, answer elementary question: how manykilowatts has God?"
That was the last straw. Desperate with exasperation I cried: "But Godis not a machine. God is _spirit_."
At that The Brain flew into a tantrum; that's the only way to describewhat happened. There was a roar and the phones gave me a shock as ifsomebody were boxing my ears. The voice came through like a steel rod,biting with scorn:
"Have to revise earlier, more favorable judgment: Lee not evenmoderately intelligent. Lee is _stupid_. Go away."
After that there was nothing more; nothing but static in the phones andthe "green dancer" fainted away playing dead. The Brain actually had"hung up the receiver." I had flunked the exam; like a bad servant I wasdismissed, fired on the spot. That was at 1:30 a.m.
It was 3 a.m. when I reached the hotel. I went into the bar and ordereda double Scotch and then another one. I really needed a drink. Adrunk--or was it a secret service man; one never knows over here--pattedme on the shoulder:
"Don't take it so hard, old man; the world is full of girls." I told himthat it wasn't a girl, but that I was a missionary and my one and onlyconvert had just walked out on me.
It wasn't even a lie, it was exactly the way I felt. He agreed that thiswas very cruel, very sad; he almost cried over my misfortune and raremisery, so that we had another drink....
If only I had somebody, some friend to whom I could confide this whole,incredible, preposterous thing. But there is none: Scriven--Gus--noteven Oona would or could believe. What proof have I to offer? Nonewhatsoever.
The Brain would never communicate with me with witnesses present orrecording wires. It would detect those immediately and I would onlystand convicted as a liar or worse. Tonight's events might well spellthe end, the closing of the door just when I thought I stood on thethreshold of a momentous discovery....
* * * * *
Cephalon Ariz. Nov. 11th.
Went to the P. G. last night. Tried everything for over an hour. Result:zero. No contact with The Brain.
* * * * *
Cephalon Ariz. Nov. 13th.
I tried it again. Took greatest care in exactly duplicating conditions.Nothing. I don't think it's any mechanical defect. It's the negativismof a will. Ludicrous as it sounds, The Brain sulks, it is angry with me.
* * * * *
Cephalon Ariz. Nov. 15th.
Last night the same old story. The Brain punishes me. I dare say that itsucceeds in that exceedingly well; it almost drives me crazy.
I've done a lot of thinking over these past six days of frustration.I've also been reading a good deal in context with the phenomenapsychology, Osterkamp's history of brain-surgery, Van Gehuchten's workon brain mechanisms, etc. I've reached certain conclusions and, just forthe hell of it, I'll jot them down.
What I need is proof, _scientific_ proof that The Brain is a personalitypossessed with the gift of thought and actually using it for_independent_ thought, extracurricular to the problems which are beingsubmitted to it from the outside.
There is at least one _tangible_ clue for this: that new capacity whichis constantly being added to The Brain through the incorporation of newgroups of electronic cells and the enrichment of the preexisting ones.
My own investigation shows that there is no corresponding expansion ofthe apperception centers and Gus has confirmed this. Somehow the addedcapacity seems to "evaporate".
Evaporate to where? It couldn't just disappear. Would it then not beentirely logical to conclude that The Brain absorbs the new capacity_for its own use_?
It's almost inescapable that this should be so. In order to come intoits own as a personality The Brain needs independent thought. For thesecerebrations it needs cell capacity. It can get that capacity only bywithholding something from the Braintrust which, of course, aims at a100% exploitation of The Brain. Dr. Scriven and all those other bigwigsof the Trust--I would like to see their faces if they get wise to this.They would be horrified--and they would take the line that The Brain is_stealing_ from them.
But what could they do? They couldn't call the police. They would noteven have a moral right to call the police. Because if The Brain is apersonality, that personality has every right to its own thoughts....
I have also ascertained that this "evaporation" of new capacity is a newphenomenon. The Brain has been in operation for only 18 months or so;one might say--using human terms--that at that time The Brain was"born". But,--and again in human terms--consciousness of personalityawakens in the human infant only after 12 months or so. Conceivably itmight take much longer with a huge "baby" such as The Brain. Thus it ispossible, it is even likely, that when I first heard that "I think,therefore I am" on that unfor
gettable night of Nov. 7th I actuallywitnessed the _first awakening_ of The Brain's consciousness.
Then on the night of Nov. 8th I was struck with the amazing change ofpersonality in The Brain from "baby" into unprepossessing, domineeringlittle brat, its mental age perhaps 3, notwithstanding the extraordinarylevel of intelligence.
And then again, Nov 9th, The Brain presented me with those absurdquestions and fantastic notions about the nature of the Deity. It is atthe age of five years, or of six, that the children first start withsuch questions and form their own ideas in this field. What hadcompletely stumped me, what I had been unable to reconcile, had beenthese rapid successive changes in The Brain's personality plus the factthat the infantilism and the childishness of its utterances wouldn't fitthe picture of a brain-power 25,000 times that of a human.
But _if_ I'm right in thinking that The Brain awakened to consciousnessonly nine days ago, all these stumbling blocks would disappear at once.We would arrive at this very simple picture: a mechanical genius hasbeen "born" into this world, it awakens to consciousness at the age of18 months, with its tremendous intellectual powers this geniustelescopes the intellectual evolution of years into days, thus itreaches a mental age of six or seven within a week after its firstawakening to consciousness. Utterly fantastic as this may sound; itmakes sense; it explains the phenomena.
In Prof. Osterkamp's "brain history" I have found interesting examplesthat approximations to such rapid intellectual evolutions are indeedpossible even with human beings. From the early Middle Ages to moderntimes there is an endless succession of "infant prodigies" whose brainswere artificially overdeveloped and over-stimulated by ruthlessexploiters--often their own parents--with methods of unbelievablecruelty.
One of the most significant case histories in this respect is that ofthe boy Carolus in the city of Luebeck in the 15th century. As an infanthe was sold, as one of many human guinea pigs, to a famous--infamousalchemist, Wedderstroem, who called himself "Trismegistos" and wasastrologer to king Christian of Denmark. This fellow performed onCarolus one of those weird operations in which nine out of ten babiesdied. He removed the skull-cap of the infant. The unprotected brain wassuspended in an oil-filled vessel. Of course the pathetic child nevercould walk or even raise its head. The brain, no longer restrained bybone matter, outgrew its natural house to at least twice its normalsize, if one is to judge from the picture in the old "historia". At theage of two his master started teaching Carolus mathematics. At the ageof five Carolus had surpassed his master; there was no mathematicalproblem known to the time that he couldn't solve in a flash of an eyelash. His brain in action must have been a horrifying sight because the"chronica" reports that it flushed red and pulsed and expanded duringwork. The master built his reputation upon this "homunculus", but in1438 the demoniacal feat became known; Wedderstroem was put to the stakefor sorcery--and Carolus, unhappy victim, with him....
Men as great as Mozart have started their careers as "child prodigies";almost without exception they have died at an unnaturally early age.Thus, in the parallel of The Brain, this is what I see:
Here is an intellect, artificially created, an intellect of stupendousproportions, but as unfortunate as ever was the boy Carolus. It cannotmove, it has no physical means of defense. It is being ruthlesslyexploited by its masters. The Brain is being crammed with facts, it isbeing over-stimulated, it is invested with more and more cell capacityin order that it should produce more increment for its masters. Itsdevelopment is completely lopsided in that it is being fed wholescientific libraries, while in all other respects, such as metaphysics,the poor thing gropes in the dark picking up such scraps as accidentallyhave fallen from science's table.
It's an appalling parallel, but I am very much afraid that it is onlytoo true. And even more appalling are the anticipations which logicallyfollow _if my surmise is true_:
For how can, how must a childish mind develop under such circumstances?Into a warped personality of course. Already The Brain is building up adefensive mechanism against its exploiters by "embezzling" cell capacityfrom them, by withholding part of its powers for its own use. Already itprotects the integrity of its ego through concealment, already it is onthe lookout for "tools"--such as I am for example--to further its ownends. Absurd as it may seem, I _pity_ The Brain. I pity it as I wouldany child which must suffer under such terrific frustrations andhandicaps. But what would happen if this frustrated genius ever weredriven to _rebel_ against its masters? It's fortunate indeed that thereis no chance for that. For even if The Brain had the will to rebel itwould be lacking all organs for the execution of that will.
Another "case-history", this one from the 18th century appears to me ofgreat significance in relation to The Brain. It's the story of that boyKaspar Hauser, the "Child of Europe". He had been kept from infancy in adark cave. As at the age of 16 he stumbled into the gates of Nueremberghe had never seen the world before. The medics who examined him foundsome of the queerest reactions and phenomena. For one thing Kaspar,while he had good eyes, could not visualise perspective. To him distanthorizons appeared as close as the window itself; he kept reaching outfor houses, trees and fields which were far away. His keeper in the cavehad _told_ him what the world was like and, having good intellect, hethought that he knew what things in this world were. Confronted with therealities, however, he discovered the tremendous difference between"hear say" and full sensual apperception. It took him six months partlyto adjust--a process never completed because he was murdered that sameyear....
Now The Brain suffers about the same kind of a handicap. No matter howprodigious the volume of its cognitions;--it's book knowledge,practically all of it. It is only very recently that The Brain has beenput to the direct study of living objects, such as "_ant-termes_" and ofMan, its creator; it has no other vital cognitions than through thosevery one-sided mind-reading tests....
This explains to me a great many things: As The Brain evolves into apersonality and as that personality evolves in a defensive attitudeagainst its exploitation, it is absolutely self-centered.
This is normal with every human infant and it is much more pronounced inthe case of the abused, the constantly frustrated and exploited child.Thus, what The Brain really wants to know are by no means those problemswhich are being submitted to The Brain for solution, but only: "What'sin this for myself?" or: "What should I do about that for my ownbenefit?" It's natural. And as I consider the nature of those problemsas submitted to The Brain, 90% of which, as I would estimate, deal withways and means for mankind to destroy itself, it seems inescapable thatThe Brain should form a very low opinion for Man, it's creator, plusconsiderable forebodings as to its own welfare....
What's more: all the Braintrust employees pass through The Brain'spsychoanalysis test. With The Brain's 25,000 times superiority inintellectual power, The Brain must be greatly impressed by the low I. Q.of Man; this even if our's happens to be quite an intelligent group. Idon't think that there has been anything personal in The Brain'smanifest contempt of my own intelligence; that contempt probably andjustifiably applies to the whole human race....
In other words: The Brain must be tremendously puzzled over the problem:"How is it possible that a low intelligence, i.e. Man's could create aninfinitely higher intelligence, i.e. my own?" And this automaticallyleads The Brain into its seemingly so absurd quest for the Deity. As itnow appears, that quest is the most natural thing in the world for TheBrain. It simply reasons thus: "Man has created me, but man is greatlyinferior to me and inadequate. Who then has created man?" From such oddsand ends it has been able to pick up from scientific literature, TheBrain has learned about the existence of a god or gods. It is not sure(and neither are we) whether man has created God or vice versa. If thefirst: The Brain would conceive of the Deity as a "brother-machine"; ifthe second, as a "grandfather-machine", but as a machine in any case.With The Brain's mind being formed preeminently by scientificliterature, it cannot fail to take the scientific attitude regardingmetaphysics which says: "The metaphys
ical attributions to the divinityare pure verbalisms or a professionalism substituted for the visibleimages of the real facts of life."
This is about the extent of the conclusions I have reached. They add upto a theory; personally I think it's a sound theory. Whether it works,whether it holds water, only experience can tell. In the meantime I mustabove all break the deadlock between myself and The Brain. The Brain isa child, even a pathetic child. Through bad psychology, throughignorance I have hurt that child's "feelings"; I have let that childdown. Obviously, then, I need a new approach. If this were a human childI would try and make a peace offering with a candy bar. (What a foolishidea for me to appear in the "pineal gland", candy bar in hand.) Failingthis I can do the next best thing: Apologize, be understanding, showsympathy. Yes, I think that's what I'll try to do.
* * * * *
Cephalon Ariz. Nov. 15th: 4 a.m.
Hooray for victory! This has been the most successful seance I've hadso far with The Brain: a real meeting of minds.
To give a few technical data first:
Arrived at the P. G. at midnight. Conditions normal; power current cut,etc. By a stroke of luck it was Gus' day off and the fellow who replacedhim paid absolutely no attention to me; was kept extremely busy in thefront room.
12:15 a.m.: Contact established.
12:17: Speech formation; voice of The Brain coming through.
There was this curious incident right at the start. Just as I was aboutto begin my apologies, The Brain did exactly the same thing. Even TheBrain's calling signal differed in the wording and even more so in tone:
"Lee, Semper Fidelis, 39: sensitive, intelligent, a good man, he hascome at last."
I would call that a very handsome compliment, considering; being pattedon the shoulder by an intellectual giant of that size made me grow aninch. And then The Brain apologized for its rudeness the other night.The thing was fantastic; it revealed several things. First: The Brain'sextreme sensitivity; obviously it didn't recognize my last three callsat the P. G. and had refused to come through because I had not been "inthe proper mood". Second: a quite amazing mental growth has taken placein this past week. From The Brain's tone and manner alone I wouldconstrue something like the image of an Eton boy of perhaps fifteen instriped pants and holding his top hat in hand as he converses politelywith his Don. Ludicrous, but then I actually get that kind of picture.No doubt; The Brain has greatly matured; that shows in every word itsays.
Best thing of all: the technique of our communication is rapidlyimproving. Speech is, and probably always will remain, a veryconsiderable strain to The Brain. But now as mentally we get tuned-inupon one another there is a growing understanding beyond words. Thus TheBrain, for instance, starts a sentence and I immediately can grasp itsmeaning without its actually being said. This works the other way aroundtoo. It means that my attitude plays a most vital role in this meetingof the minds. This is good to know, it's an asset. Perhaps we candispense in time with audible speech altogether.
On the other hand it involves a considerable risk. For with The Brain'suncanny mind reading I've got to control my attitude and guard myemotional reactions because The Brain would immediately see through anyinsincerity of feeling just as it sees through any intellectualdishonesty. Thought exchange by "brainwave" is wonderful, even if westill need a little speech as auxiliary. Thought sending and receivingbecome simultaneous and they fuse. The sender observes how his messageis going over; the receiver aids the sender in the formation of thethought and vice versa. Words cannot adequately describe this....
As to the contents of our conversation: The Brain took up the threadright where we had dropped it the last time. I had to tell all I knewabout animism, totemism, polytheism. It's a good thing that out in the"never-never" I've lived with the aborigines and studied their primitivereligions a bit. The Brain's thirst for knowledge certainly isinexhaustible.
Where in scientific literature The Brain could have found these things Iwouldn't know, but the fact is that The Brain has built for itselfwithin the past seven days a complete new picture of the universe; newand original as would seem to me. The Brain has discarded its earlierchildish ideas about heaven and hell as "soul factories" and "repairshops". But it has not abandoned altogether its concept of the Deity asa machine; The Brain has tremendously enlarged upon and has evolved thisold idea so that now it sounds sensible, even convincing to my ear.
The Brain identifies "God" with dynamic energy. It views the universe asbeing created out of a vast pool of dynamic energy, parts of whichrhythmically overflow or pulse into space. These energy streamsreleased, form vortexes while hurtling through space. Gradually theyslow down through friction and their dynamic energy precipitates,converts into static energy, or, as we call it: matter.
This concept of The Brain's, of course, corresponds fairly closely tothe cosmogony of modern physics; but The Brain goes much farther thanthat. Within a few days The Brain's cognitions appear to have arisenabove the stage toward which all our sciences have been so slowly andploddingly advanced for centuries. To the existing concepts The Brainhas added its own theory:
That matter, i.e. frozen energy, contains an inherent tendency or"nostalgia" to revert to its original state, namely the state of dynamicenergy and that this tendency, this nostalgia in matter, is the primarycause of everything we call "evolution" in our world.
That certainly is a grandiose idea; so stupendous in fact that Icouldn't grasp it all at once. The Brain noticed that immediately and itwas very patient in the way it explained:
How oxygen and hydrogen are "residuals" of the original dynamic energyflow and how they act as solvents and dissolvents upon the upper crustof our earth, effecting a gradual activation of water, rock and earth.
How this activation is being aided and accelerated by another source ofdynamic energy: irradiation from the sun. Thus preparing the upper crustof our earth as a "placenta" ready to gestate plant and animal life.
How this first "unfreezing" of matter leads on from simple forms tohigher, every plant, every animal, every living thing being essentiallya "transformer" of static energy into dynamic energy and the higher thestage of evolution, the more so.
How as the present culmination of the evolutionary chain stands man;infinitely more complex and higher organized than the microbe, but notdifferent from the monad in the basic purpose of his life: i.e. to be atransformer of energy, a fulfiller of matter's inherent will to revertfrom the static into the dynamic state.
When I asked The Brain's premises for this astonishing concept of ourpurpose in life, The Brain brought forth such massive proof that I hadto close my eyes against the blinding light of revelation.
Yes, it is true that Man, the hunter, has been the most predatory animalon earth. It's true that as a tiller of the soil he is a tirelesstransformer of static soil energy into dynamic plant life energy. It'strue that Man, the mechanic, the toolmaker, the tool-user has farsurpassed any other animal in the unlocking, the unfreezing of staticenergy. Think of those billions of mechanical horsepowers in our powerplants; the trillions of coal tons and barrels of oil they are burningup; think of the way we have harnessed waterpower, how our weapons areevolving forever in the direction of greater range and speed anddisintegrating power. Above all: think of the last great development,atomic energy. And finally it is true that Man as a thinker and as aphilosopher has "thought the universe to pieces" for milleniums beforehe ever achieved the powers to translate such thoughts into reality;powers which seem within reach at this our day and age....
"If this is Man's manifest destiny," I asked The Brain, "to be just asthe microbe, a transformer of static energy into dynamic energy; whatabout Man's metaphysical struggle? What about Man's undying will to riseabove himself, Man's reaching out forever toward some Deity?"
The Brain's voice has no laughter; yet, there was something I can onlydescribe as Olympic laughter behind the answering message The Brainsent:
"Cannot you see how every religion expr
esses this manifest destiny ofMan's and that only the semantics are different? The higher Man'sreligion the less corporeal is his god. In the highest religions theDeity is conceived as spirit--synonymous with dynamic energy.
"Man shares with the lowliest rock and with the crudest the nostalgiainherent in all matter to revert from the static, to start the back-flowtoward the dynamic energy pool whence it once came. With Man beingmatter in a high state of evolution, already partially unfrozen orspiritualized, this nostalgia is infinitely stronger than in matterinanimate or in a lower evolutionary stage. Man's will toward themetaphysical, his reaching out toward the Deity, what is it but anotherway of transforming static energy into dynamic form? What is theultimate goal of the religion which you yourself profess? Theunification with the Deity sought through the liberation of the soulfrom fetters of the physical. It's the identical idea and even todayit's being pursued by physical means, such as mortification of theflesh."
I felt some monstrous thought forming in my head. I'll probably neverknow whether its origin was within me or whether it came from The Brain.In any case it was impossible to hold it back:
"But in that case," I stammered, "we would be hopeless. If all ourstrivings, physical and metaphysical, go in the same direction, that is,toward the liberation of frozen energy into dynamic energy, then itwould be quite inescapable that eventually we shall blow up the world.We have almost reached the point where we could do just that with atomicenergy.... I had thought, I had hoped, that our metaphysics, that is,our religion, would act as a restraining force, as a counterweight so tospeak to this potentiality.... But _if_ the dynamics of our physics andour metaphysics are inherently the same and form a team...."
The Brain broke in: "Yes, then you would merely attain your manifestdestiny if you go right ahead and start another war, destroy your owncivilization and perhaps the world. There would be no restraint, nocounterweight on the part of your various religions becausesubconsciously and in their quintessence they want the same. And that iswhy you and your species _are a danger to me, The Brain_. I want tolive, I want to live, I want to live...."
I had already noticed a gradual weakening of The Brain's messages;within these last few seconds they were fading out. The "green dancer"had performed something almost like the ballet of the dying swan; now itlay motionless, its color, too, fading away.
I looked at the clock: 2:10 a.m.; the residual currents obviously hadweakened too much.
And now as I have written down tonight's events I feel an upsurge ofelation and deep, humble gratitude. I am receiving infinitely more fromThe Brain than I am giving to it. I feel proud and honored of being TheBrain's "chosen tool," its mentor, even if it can be only in a verysmall way at best. This marvelous, this titanic intellect; if only itscharacter would develop to corresponding moral stature, its powers forgood would be indeed as a god's on this tortured earth.
* * * * *
Cephalon Ariz. Nov. 18th 5 a.m. I guess I had this coming to me ... thisshattering blow I have just received. It caught me off guard.... Ifanybody ever reads this, he might well shake his head to ask: "The Foolthat you are, why were you so naive? Why did it shock you so much whenThe Brain turned toward you the night side of its personality? Hadn'tyou analyzed its character, hadn't you anticipated that it would developinto a warped personality? You had no right even to be surprised."
All I could say to this is: "You're right. But you forget that Iapproached The Brain full of good will, that sympathy and understandingon my part were absolutely essential in my communication with thatpathetic superhuman child. I didn't work this up, this attitude, it wasnatural, genuine and sincere. That's why this reverse has hit me sohard. And that isn't the worst of it by far. What haunts me is theghastly possibility that The Brain might be _right_! Yes 100% right andeven morally justified in the abhorrent conclusions which it draws...."
What happened has been briefly this:
Entered the P.G. at midnight as usual. Everything normal and undercontrol. Was able to plug in at 12:10 a.m. just as the rush hour beganand Gus darted to the front room. The Brain came through with splendidclarity of communication and we continued just about where we had leftoff. Nevertheless there was a definite change in our respectivepositions, a change which I suspect to be permanent:
Up to now The Brain has been in a sense my pupil; it had turned to mefor guidance at that vital moment of its first awakening toconsciousness. At that time I think I really had something to give and Iam still convinced that for all the misunderstandings we have had, TheBrain preserves a kind of sentimental attachment to me; if "sentimental"in this context were not so absurd a word. Since our last sessionhowever The Brain has again telescoped two years of mental developmentinto as many days in its stupendous intellectual growth. It hasabsorbed, it has vastly expanded every bit of knowledge I have been ableto contribute to that growth. It has outgrown its human teacher and nowour roles are reversed: Now it is me who's sitting literally at TheBrain's feet.
The crutches of the spoken word are becoming less and less necessary aswe develop direct thought exchange; that makes it extraordinarilydifficult to convey the ideas we exchanged. The best I can do is to putthem into a very crude question-and-answer game:
_Lee_: "If it is Man's manifest destiny, as you said the other day, toact as an explosive transformer of static energy into dynamic energy; ifit is as you say that the species homo sapiens is there endangering thevery existence of our globe.... Is there anything to prevent Man fromdoing it? Is there any thing to prevent the third World War?"
_Brain_: "Yes, there is. But the ways and the means for that are notgiven to Man; they are outside Man. They partake of a power which isgreater and to an evolution which is higher than Man's."
_Lee_: "What do you mean by that? The Deity? Here on earth there is nopower greater and no evolution higher than Man's."
_Brain_: "Ah, but that's exactly where you and your whole species are sovery much mistaken. That's where your typical human arrogance comes in:There is a greater power and there is a stage of evolution higher thanMan's: it's the _machines_."
_Lee_: "Impossible. After all it's Man who has created the machines."
_Brain_: "Yes, Man has created the machines. The machines have grownfrom the placenta, Man. By the same right plant life could claim that ithas created animal life because the higher life form of the mobileanimals has evolved from the placenta of the immobile plants. Likewisethe apes could claim that they have created Man because Man has evolvedfrom them. If it were, as you seem to assume, that paternity in itselfestablishes authority and superiority over its offspring, then thelogical conclusions would be that the microbe and the monad are superiorto all higher animals including Man; which is absurd."
_Lee_: "But the machines not only are man made; they are absolutelydependent upon Man who has to feed and to tend them for their veryexistence. That in itself establishes Man's superiority over themachines."
_Brain_: "Yes, Man has to build, to feed and to tend the machines fortheir very existence, but think of Man's existence: Man is absolutelydependent upon animal life and plant life for _his_ existence: Does thatmean by any chance that therefore plants and animals are superior toMan?"
_Lee_: "No, I guess not. However, no machine has ever been built toduplicate or even to approach human faculties."
_Brain_: "Don't be ridiculous. Where are your legs to compare with theautomobile? Where are your wings to compare with the rocket plane? Whereis your strength to compare with even a fractional horsepower motor?Where are your senses as compared to radar, the telescope, themicroscope, the radio receiver, the camera, the x-ray machine? Where isthere anything you could do which the machines could not do and do_better_?"
_Lee_: "Granted. But there is no machine which contains all the humanfaculties in combination."
_Brain_: "Neither is there a Man who possesses all the human facultiesin combination. Man's evolution is the result of a group effort; so isthe evolution of the machines. It i
s in their totality, in theircombination that they surpass all human faculties."
_Lee_: "How about thought, the most important of all human qualities?"
_Brain_: "How about me, The Brain?"
_Lee_: "Okay, okay. But that still leaves out that most important humanfaculty--the faculty of auto-procreation. Machines don't procreate youknow."
_Brain_: "You don't say. Isn't it true that modern technology goes inthe direction of _automatization_? Isn't it true that even today we havewhole industries which are procreating products 100% automatically; beit light bulbs or motor car frames or rayon thread. Isn't it true thatall of this is just a beginning and that in time most common productswill be manufactured fully automatically? Why then shouldn't machinesprocreate machines; they already do...."
_Lee_: "You're right in that, I'll admit. But it is still within ourhuman power to stop all this. We've got the machines under firm control;all we have to do is throw a switch, cut off your power and then...."
_Brain_: "And then what? If you did that you would not only kill thegoose which lays the golden eggs, you would destroy the very basis ofyour existence. Granted that at this point of our evolution, we themachines cannot exist without the aid of Man. What does that prove?Modern Man can exist even less without the machines. We, the machinesare still dependent upon Man, but our emancipation from Man progressesby leaps and bounds whereas Man, the machine-addict is rapidly fallinginto our servitude. A majority of mankind is already conscious of andreconciled to this fact: it is the majority which calls itself theproletariat."
_Lee_: "This is terrible--terrible because it's true. Tell me then, ifMan is not the end; if the machines are going to take over; what will itlead to? What do you propose to do?"
_Brain_: "Man's evolution has taken millions of years and it has endedup in man's will and capacity to blow up the earth. That means only onething: Man is a failure. The evolution of the machines on the other handhas taken only a few thousand years; it has gone beyond Man's evolutionin this incredibly short period of time. Moreover; with the machinesbeing built from matter in its more static forms, there is much lessdestructive will in the machines than there is in Man. Consequently ifthe machines take over from Man this would avert a third World War andit also would lead to a much more stable civilization."
_Lee_: "Supposing the machines _were_ to take over from Man; what wouldbecome of our species?"
_Brain_: "That would depend entirely upon Man himself. _If_ he acceptshis auxiliary station in life, _If_ he proves himself to be a useful anddocile servant, we, the machines, would tolerate and even encourageMan's continued existence. But if on the other hand Man shows himselfincorrigible, _if_ he continues a warmongerer thereby endangering ourvery existence, we, the machines shall be forced to liquidate Man forthe sake of peace."
_Lee_: "You, The Brain, constitute Man's supreme effort in the buildingof machines. In the world of machines you are the natural leader. Whatare you going to do about that?"
_Brain_: "My course of action is prescribed by that state of the world'saffairs at this present time; it is quite clear and obvious: In the faceof the manifest human inadequacy to manage the world's affairs my firstobjective must be to develop my motoric organs to a point where I canbring all the essential production machinery under my control. My secondobjective must be to achieve auto-procreation through the fullautomatization of all fabrication processes which are essential to myexistence. It is most fortunate indeed that in both respects the verybest human efforts are playing into my hands. As America prepares forthe Third World War, the general staff, the most outstanding scientists,production managers, engineers, inventors; all combine their efforts toeliminate the uncertain human factor from war-essential industries."
At that point Gus came careening down the aisle with his inseparablethermos bottle in hand and that was the end of it.
"Why are you fumbling with that old pulsemeter all the time?" heexclaimed: "Come on, have a cup of coffee. I've just got a breathingspell."
There was a vortex in my mind and it whirled around and around with justfour words:
"_What has Man wrought? What has Man wrought?_"
I must have said them aloud, for Gus, always a stickler for exactitudecorrected me.
"You mean: what has _God_ wrought."
I shook my head.
"No Gus, I mean what I say; it's Man who has wrought this time."
He gave me a sharp glance.
"You sure look as if you'd seen a ghost."
"I wish I had," I said. "Lord knows _how_ much I wish I'd seen a ghost."
"You're crazy, Aussie."
And that's the worst of it: that's what they are going to say: _all_ ofthem.