rashbre central

Wednesday, 22 March 2023

Artificial - The Novel - C3 To the Lab

Simon Gray met me to show me the way to the bus on Day One. It was about five-minute walk from the apartment and the bus ran into Brant's campus. It was a vast, newly built campus and reminded me of an airport complex. There were even runways and planes parked alongside. I was vetted by the security people - although why they waited until I was in Switzerland - they said it was to do with Swiss regulations. 

 

Then I got my magic passes - one for the lab and another as a kind of spending card around the campus or even in Geneva. I had to install the App, which I assumed also provided tracking of me.

 

 Then a slim smart-looking woman arrived wearing a lab coat. She introduced herself as Amy van der Leiden and after greeting me with a kiss to the cheeks (three actually), she escorted me to another area.  

 

 "I'll be introducing you to the head man in a few minutes; you know you are joining the Cyclone headgear development team? It's part of the RightMind Programme."

 

I'd just met my new team leader and now I was to meet the boss. The route to the Research Department was along a vast internal glass-domed room. There were tall trees growing and what appeared to be a woodland stream. Off to either side were glass partitioned offices and halfway up the wall was another floor which seemed to mirror the layout of the ground. 

 

They had given me a small handbook when I arrived in the reception, as well the App for my phone. As far as I could make out, the building was cut into three sections, each with an overarching glass canopy and a pleasantly themed walkway. Between each of the three sections was a cafe area and inside the taller end of the glass dome was a building that stretched up to four stories. 

 

This was also just one of five large buildings on the campus and all along one side of it was access to the airstrip. I could see mainly helicopters coming and going, and hear the occasional drawn-out rumble of a turboprop taking off. 

 

"This is one of the more impressive buildings, explained Amy, "They bring visitors here and upstairs are a few of the executive offices like the one we are meeting Kjeld in. They get a good view of the flight movements from upstairs. There's also some attractive dining rooms on a whole floor and the facility here is based upon hot-desking, even of the most senior people."

 

We stopped at the next gap between the glass-domed buildings, and Amy looked towards an elevator.

 

"We could use the stairs, but I think we'll get lost if we don't follow the correct visitor route," she explained.

 

"Hello," said Amy, in English, "We are here to see Kjeld Nikolajsen." She pronounced Kjeld's name emphasising the 'J's in a strong Dutch manner.

 

"Certainly, said the receptionist. "My scanners tell me you are Amy van der Leiden and Oliver Wells, You are both expected."

 

She walked out from behind her desk and led the two of us to an office. EL6, it said on the door. Amy walked in first and I followed," Hello Kjeld," she said, beaming towards him, "I've brought Oliver Wells, to see you."

 

"Well, Hello Mr Wells, and Welcome to Brant! - I try to meet all of the new people joining our Research department."

 

Like Amy, I could see he was not one for idle chatter. 

 

"You'll have Amy as your team leader as we try to develop improvements to HCCI headgear. Cyclone was not an accidental choice of name. We are creating a hive mind system, using cloned AI augmentation. We want to step beyond a single organism making decisions by itself. Will a cyber-operated robo-cockroach run from flames when commanded to walk into them? Does it make the decision alone, or could it be augmented by the hive mind? 

 

Our project name is RightMind and we are 'pushing the envelope' on what is possible with cloned memory and AI boosting."

 

"The RightMind creates a new way of thinking about battlefield dynamics. It can be a complete game changer. Think of the 400 years of the Trebuchet catapult, used to smash down city walls - famously Thessalonica. It was improved upon as a design, making a lower range but fast firing alternative to the original traction Trebuchet."

 

I nodded, it was clearly a test. I remembered my childhood comic books. 

 

"Those ancient warriors, in their pursuit of siege warfare, used battering rams, wooden towers, scaling ladders and all kinds of other things which our generation can hardly imagine. But didn't they find the most effective way was to undermine a fortress's foundations, by tunnelling or by fire?"

 

"Very good," answered Kjeld, "I hope you will enjoy working for us."

 

Amy signalled it was time to leave. As we walked back, she said, "Good, he likes you. He was testing you with that last thing about the city walls." 

Monday, 20 March 2023

Artificial C2: Backstory for Oliver Wells

My story is simple. I've been studying the brain and cognitive psychology for what seems an age. My Doctorate was about the electrophysiology of the mind. It encompassed event-related brain potentials and cognition. It drew upon factors affecting the loading of a brain when involved in cognitive processing and increasingly the factors that would create out-of-condition responses affecting attention, mental chronometry, memory, and language. 

There are the inevitable warnings that the brain may break if it becomes overloaded. Most people check out when I tell them this. They hear words like science, brain, physiology and cognition and complete their own description of what I represent. Usually, it isn't flattering. 

 It's why Ranzino and Summers wanted to hire me. I've been involved with post-structuralism in my studies. The study of hyper-reality. Not some modern art school project with ultimate detailing oh no. Hyperreality is a condition in which, because of the compression of perceptions of reality in culture and media, what is generally regarded as real and what is understood as fiction are seamlessly blended together. The experiences are such that there is no longer any clear distinction between where one ends and the other begins. 

There are no joins between what is imagined and what is real and I'll attempt to show this in my story. I've  followed the work of French philosopher Jean Baudrillard, who contributed to communication studies that speak directly to larger social concerns. 

I had to explain this to Ranzino, and I could see Summers taking notes. My explanation was that much of the thinking was established through the social turmoil of the 1960s, spurred by social movements that questioned preexisting conventions and social institutions. 

 Through a postmodern lens, reality is viewed as a fragmented, complimentary and multiple-meaning system with components that are produced by social and cultural activity. It's a perfect playground for Augmented Reality. 

Social realities that constitute consensus reality are constantly produced and reproduced, changing through the extended use of signs and symbols which hence contribute to the creation of a greater hyperreality.

There's a unit in Brant, here in Geneva, that is researching Human Brain to Computer Interfaces. It's called HCCI in the jargon. 'Human to Computer to Computer Interfaces. 

'Why the two Computers?' I hear you ask. It's simple really. The first is a small unit to decode the human thoughts and then the second is the main unit to receive them and to send back 'reprocessed' thoughts. 

 I know what you are thinking. It works well in PowerPoint, doesn't it? But in Real Life? I don't think so.

Well, that is exactly how they hooked me. Combining the sensuous properties of fragrant Jasmine Summers and the gung-ho bravura of film-star-tanned Bob Ranzino. They challenged me to 'make it work' and offered me around four times my current income to do so - and even threw in the free accommodation. 

Call me weak, but I fell for it.

Saturday, 18 March 2023

Artificial Opening Scene (c1 - coincidences))

 

I am sitting in Le Club chatting with Bérénice Charbonnier. Her gentle aroma of Chanel is just about legal.

 

"So, Oliver Wells, how did you come to be out here, working for Brant? Are you another one of the brainy scientists, or maybe you have some other skill?"

 

Bérénice lives next door in my apartment block and seemed to know everyone. She was some kind of news reporter. She suggested that we go to this disturbingly American-style sports bar in the heart of Geneva, although, I suppose it was only a ten-minute slow walk from my new home. Everyone around us was speaking shades of English.

 

I answer, "I think I was an afterthought, actually. One of Brant's head honchos - Bob Ranzino - came to Cork,  Ireland, where I lived, and he was busily recruiting a friend of a friend, Matt Nicholson. Matt must've told them about me and the next thing I know I'm being given a drive-by recruitment handshake for Brant."

 

Bérénice smiles, "No, it can't have been that simple. I know Brant and even Bob Ranzino and Jasmine Summers, his close associate. We've interviewed them a few times about new developments in and around Geneva. Brant is a big player in this city."

 

"Well, the friend-of-a-friend link was because Heather, Matt's ex at the time was also friends with my buddy Michael. Cork is a small place and word gets around. I guess Ranzino must have thought he could make more of the opportunity and hire both of us. I think he even took us to the same restaurant both nights!"

 

"That sounds like a Jasmine move. Find the most expensive place in town and make it the office. I expect it had to be a steak or seafood place as well."

 

"You hit the nail. We went to Quinlans and I had lobster. Good recruitment food."

 

"So do you know many people yet? There are several Brant employees who live in our apartment block, you know. I can introduce you if you like."

 

"I met Simon Gray yesterday, another Brit, but I've only just moved in. Aude Darmshausen  showed me the Apartment and had furnished it impeccably to look modern and cool."

 

"She is good at that, but I guess she has seen maybe twenty people pass through that block on Rue de la Confédération, whilst working for Brant."

 

"What do they do? Do they stay on, or go home?"

 

"They stay, usually a year or so in your block and then on to their own rental properties with more space and privacy. You'll soon find out that Rue de la Confédération's inhabitants are an inquisitive bunch."

 

"And you, Bérénice? I know you work in the Press, but how is that?" I ask.

 

"I work for Le genevois - The Genevan - It's a mainstream media publication. I work on the social media side of things." 

 

"So no surprise that you know everyone and everything!"

 

"Not everyone. And not everything," she answers with a twinkle in her eye.

Wednesday, 15 March 2023

Lambo madness?

Lamborghini build a new car made of carbon fibre for lightness and then adds three electric motors. 

Sounds good so far? 

Then they add a huge V12 engine as well and all the ancillary pipes for cooling, exhausts and so on. And a dual clutch 8-gang gearbox to handle the 6.5-litre L545 V12's 814 horsepower. Yawn. I suppose it is something for petrol heads to talk about at the pub.

Madness.


 

Monday, 13 March 2023

everything everywhere all at once

After svp, I see another American bank heading south. And the Donald clown facing more criminal charges. Allegedly paying hush money. Lest we forget his self declared immunity from taxes. Or the smacking down with innuendo of his own party members.

Sunday, 12 March 2023

From Artificial - a character gets stolen from another story.




I'd been invited to a block party at the Rue de la Confédération, where many of the other residents would be attending, yet I felt too drained to go along. It was some kind of special day in Geneva, when they all eat plum tart. Not my scene. A party with French speakers eating plum tart. I'd already politely declined despite Aude Darmshausen and Bérénice Charbonnier's strongest protestations that I should attend. 


Instead, I spend Saturday being a Geneva tourist to hopefully blow away the cobwebs which have formed in my head during the week. I join a tour which takes me into the Old Town, around by the big fountain, a visit to the flower clock, down to the Lake, hop a boat for a Lake Leman cruise. And there was a tram included too, all with a courteous guide named Mr Gabriel. 


On the coach and then on the tram, I am sitting next to Melody, who is from Holland and travelling across Europe by train. Melody is pretty with wild, highlighted hair and wears a black outfit and carries a small rucksack. She explains her outfit was so she would not get noticed. She has a slightly edgy accent, but very strong English. I think it is how she pronounces TH as a kind of D sound which is how I had picked up on her accent. She tells me she had lived in nort London for tree years. We chat so much our guide, Mr Gabriel, thinks we are lovers and even makes a joke about us in his commentary.


I joke to Melody that we are meeting like in 'Before Sunrise', the Richard Linklater film and she says it was one of her favourites. We agree to sightsee around Geneva together but not to fall in love like they did in the movie. Melody knew the whole movie plot - which I could hardly remember - and wanted to take me to a cafe where we could drink milkshake, so we could do 'the part about the poem'. When we are at the flower clock she says it is good how the flowers could face either way, following the sun. I don't fully understand but approve of her remark anyway. She says she followed Annie Clark's advice about when in an unfamiliar city to do something real and strange. So here we are on the boat touring the lake at sunset, which is when she said she wanted to kiss me. I'm not sure whether I was part of the real or the strange. I'm sure I was another part of her movie plot.


Melody explains to me - and it wasn't just a brush off - that she has placed herself in what she calls 'deep nun mode'. Single. Focused. 'Completely monastic. Sober, celibate – full nun.' I’m pretty sure she’s joking when she adds, in a slow, funny, unpredictable way, “I mean there are always sex plans. But none for, like, a month.”


We split up late Saturday evening, and agree not to swap any further information. Well, except she admits she told me a false name. She says her real name is Cara. She used Melody from a time when she was in a band. Cara says she'll meet me where we first met on the Quai in another six months - like Céline and Jesse did in that movie.


When I return to Rue de la Confédération, I could hear that the party was still running, but I crept quietly to my room. The cobwebs were gone. 


Thursday, 9 March 2023

Caught QNAPping

I mainly use Synology for servers and run them RAID 5, with a spare drive in the array to pickup if things go wrong.

I happen to have a small QNAP box as well, on which I keep a small RAID array, but it recently went wrong. HDD1 failed and went red. Never mind, I thought, the show can continue until I put in a replacement. I usually use the drive for directly connected photo editing, although I'm not convinced it is any faster than my LAN attached Synology drives. After the failure the QNAP decided to play it very safe and went into read-only mode, insisting I put a new disk in before normal service could be restored. 

Because there was no spare spinning in the cabinet, I had to wait for another one to arrive, which is now installed - and I'm now using RAID 5 on this little box as well. I've decided it is better to run a full rebuild, which is quite lengthy.


Fortunately I use the 3-2-1 backup rule: At least three copies of the data; two of the backups should be stored on different types of media, and at least one backup should be stored offsite or in the cloud.

Phew.


Saturday, 4 March 2023

Daisy Jones and The Six

I read Daisy Jones and The Six a few years ago, when it first came out and quite enjoyed it. I expect I even blogged about it.

Now they've made a TV series from the novel, which was already framed as a rockumentary and so the Amazon Prime series emerges as the mockumentary. Many say it is a loose reflection upon Fleetwood Mac. I understand that but see it as a much wider piece.

For me it is a guilty pleasure. Let's list a few of the things that happen in the first episode. I know I say Girl in the description, but we are talking about the 1970s.

CONTAINS SPOILERS BUT ITS OKAY - WON'T HARM THE ENJOYMENT
  • Band forms on athletics track with big brother emerging as the leader.
  • They work in the steel mill.
  • Drummer plays too loud.
  • Bass guitarist who loans the practice garage quits to study to become a dentist.
  • A substitute bass player is allocated.
  • They have a really bad name which they change when inspired in a diner.
  • Fabulous LA waitress can sing and has great friends.
  • Acoustic numbers are played with squeaky buzzing frets.
  • They drive from Philadelphia to L.A and get a place in Laurel Canyon (they got a really good deal etc)
  • Girlfriend of band's leader writes cool songs (non Bechdel).
  • Girlfriend wants empowerment and refutes idea she is a just a muse (strong willed speech in car park).
  • They don't get paid but somehow make ends meet.
  • The band bus looks terrible
  • After a meet-cute moment, The Six are helped out by Teddy Price, a black rock impresario.
  • They acquire a strong-willed English female keyboard player named Karen.
  • They play Cavern-quantity standards on Sunset Strip to get to fighting weight.
  • There are many smoke-filled rooms with Byrd-esque and CSNY-esque bands playing (always slightly obscured by the smoke).
  • There is a Neutral Milk Hotel moment (anoraks only).
  • Background soundtrack is filled with hub capped diamond star haloes.
  • Girl composes accompanied by a bottle of Jack Daniels.
  • You can tell its for TV when Timothy Oliphant shows up in deep disguise.
  • A once-gifted guitar gets returned.
I expect they will break into Tiny Dancer, seamstress for the band soon.

I'm fully troped-up and loving it.

And yes, Amazon decided to release an album of the band, called Aurora. Wayne's World hooked moment.

Friday, 3 March 2023

Death and the Penguin - Andrey Kurkov


I've been reading a Ukrainian novel recently. Death and the Penguin by Andrey Kurkov. It is set in the 1990s, when Ukraine was still a fledgling country away from direct Russian influence although the set-up is dark with some ominous and recognisable repeating patterns.

Viktor Zolotaryov is a frustrated writer, whose short stories are too short and uneventful to be published. Then a newspaper editor unexpectedly offers Viktor a job as an obituarist, with reasonable pay, and working from home. He has to select (and later is given list of) powerful figures from the Ukrainian elite and prepare their obituaries ready for their death and, as the volume of obituaries increases, Viktor realises that his obituaries seem to foreshadow the subject's death. 

It's a mafia style situation where individuals from the Ukrainian elite are systematically bumped off and Viktor's editor has a timeline of when this is to occur. 

Everything is corrupt and in a state of collapse. The Kyiv zoo has to give away its animals to members of the public because it can no longer care for them. That's how Viktor acquires Misha, a King penguin, and just one of the increasing cast of people who he houses in his shabby apartment.
I've found it to be a readable novel and although I haven't quite finished it yet, I can see where its bleakness is going.

Misha the penguin, is a proxy symbolising the confusion and loss of community that characterises post-Soviet Ukraine. Just as Misha the penguin is cut off from his natural, collective and co-operative penguin-world so Viktor is struggling to survive in a city that is confusing and unwelcoming to its human population. The gang warfare is frequently off-page and implied, but the all-too-real obituaries (obelisks) are never in short supply and always have the right key phrases highlighted. To be a disliked politician, a protesting artist or a mob boss was bad news if you were in Viktor's unquestioning file, consider your days were numbered.

It is said to be Ukrainian Absurdism, but nowadays, I wonder.

Thursday, 2 March 2023

Fire the stain

The stain on the British government is making another attempt to slither back into our consciousness. A few new developments can't erase the lying and elitist spasms created when in office. Fire him (it?) before there is more damage.

Saturday, 25 February 2023

Big Green Egg testing for 2023 season

This is the third test of the big green egg for the 2023 season. They even sent me a reminder to fire it up and a few helpful recommissioning tips. 

 I prefer the real fire approach and the industrial heat gauge to tell the temperature inside the ceramics. 

NASA technology, but still Elemental. 

Today I've moved onto sourdough pizza, cooked over stone and drizzled with honey. I can safely say its delicious.