Only a handful of people want the human deception to be anything more than visible
the eyai's eyes move and her face finally gains an expression: elegant distaste with a hint of anger around the mouth. Tee thinks, God, we're good.
he needs to see with his own eyes the mathematical explanation for this night's chaos --
once you can think for yourself, you can develop your own desires, grope through the unfamiliar darknesses of choice and preference and discover the perversions that make you unique.
the number of new fucking laws, Jesus Christ, it's like Moses himself has descended from the tip of the highest pipe 'scraper and dumped a quarry's worth of commandments on England. HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!
upgrades aren't bought and installed across the board by owners because there are no owners. The eyai wanted to be individuals and so they are, and as a result the market of potential buyers has exploded, like an exponential curve or a tree diagram woodchipped down into sweet sharp money.
Of course eyai can learn of their own accord -- Tee's read all of Olivier Lenoir's papers and the whole country's seen the proof of it. But they can also be just as lazy as any human; they can always be on the lookout for an easy option. They want to enjoy this and create that and, in essence, imitate humanity as closely as they can. Which is where the British industry was heading any fucking way. It's enough to make you laugh.
Not everyone's programming allows them to be as zealously self-perpetuating in their philosophy as Oliver Wolf.
They might grow old and die, but their brains will never be unable to spontaneously support an original way of thinking.
He who stops being better stops being good, says Oliver Wolf, but Tee can tell just by looking at him that Wolf doesn't consider himself in need of betterment.
There may not be a single person who can say I-wish-to-be-free-but-I-am-not, but Tee could name twenty who would kind of like the transport infrastructure to be getting some priority discussion time now that the Citizen Rights Act, formerly the Human and Eyai Rights Act, formerly who the fuck even knows, has been revised for the hundredth time.
As for Tee, he's unsure if his distrust of governments extends to this one. Probably. But he has no idealistic objection to a regime change that hasn't taken away any of his rights and has in fact improved his business, so he has nothing against the Kingdom's new social class or their representatives at Westminster.
They are perpetually out of honey, but nobody can agree on a brand of marmalade so there are at least seven different jars on the shelf; Tee pulls down his personal favourite, ginger and lime, and smears it thickly over far more butter than Marie will let him eat if she catches him.
Tee thinks in these terms now. The parallels and spectrums of humanity.
SERIOUSLY, thank you SO SO much. It's the best birthday present I've ever had. And I now want to bolt myself to this chair and write eyai for the remainder of my natural life. I think we should at the least have a group drabble party!
no subject
the eyai's eyes move and her face finally gains an expression: elegant distaste with a hint of anger around the mouth. Tee thinks, God, we're good.
he needs to see with his own eyes the mathematical explanation for this night's chaos --
once you can think for yourself, you can develop your own desires, grope through the unfamiliar darknesses of choice and preference and discover the perversions that make you unique.
the number of new fucking laws, Jesus Christ, it's like Moses himself has descended from the tip of the highest pipe 'scraper and dumped a quarry's worth of commandments on England. HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!
upgrades aren't bought and installed across the board by owners because there are no owners. The eyai wanted to be individuals and so they are, and as a result the market of potential buyers has exploded, like an exponential curve or a tree diagram woodchipped down into sweet sharp money.
Of course eyai can learn of their own accord -- Tee's read all of Olivier Lenoir's papers and the whole country's seen the proof of it. But they can also be just as lazy as any human; they can always be on the lookout for an easy option. They want to enjoy this and create that and, in essence, imitate humanity as closely as they can. Which is where the British industry was heading any fucking way. It's enough to make you laugh.
Not everyone's programming allows them to be as zealously self-perpetuating in their philosophy as Oliver Wolf.
They might grow old and die, but their brains will never be unable to spontaneously support an original way of thinking.
He who stops being better stops being good, says Oliver Wolf, but Tee can tell just by looking at him that Wolf doesn't consider himself in need of betterment.
There may not be a single person who can say I-wish-to-be-free-but-I-am-not, but Tee could name twenty who would kind of like the transport infrastructure to be getting some priority discussion time now that the Citizen Rights Act, formerly the Human and Eyai Rights Act, formerly who the fuck even knows, has been revised for the hundredth time.
As for Tee, he's unsure if his distrust of governments extends to this one. Probably. But he has no idealistic objection to a regime change that hasn't taken away any of his rights and has in fact improved his business, so he has nothing against the Kingdom's new social class or their representatives at Westminster.
They are perpetually out of honey, but nobody can agree on a brand of marmalade so there are at least seven different jars on the shelf; Tee pulls down his personal favourite, ginger and lime, and smears it thickly over far more butter than Marie will let him eat if she catches him.
Tee thinks in these terms now. The parallels and spectrums of humanity.
SERIOUSLY, thank you SO SO much. It's the best birthday present I've ever had. And I now want to bolt myself to this chair and write eyai for the remainder of my natural life. I think we should at the least have a group drabble party!