Μη μου μιλάτε γιά πατρίδα...

Με κάθετη επιμονή
αρνούμενος
το καθημερινό συσσίτιο
του μέλανα ζωμού
μπαίνω
με το μέτωπο ψηλά
σ΄ένα πλατύ δρόμο του Βορρά
ενώ στ΄αυτιά μου κροταλίζουν
τα κουτάλια
της Ρίτας Αμπατζή
από το "Χήρα, μ΄έκαψες"
κι ο στόμας - όπως λέγαν κάποτε-
τραγουδάει από μόνος του

-Με συγχωρείτε, μήπως τρελαθήκατε;
-Όχι, απλά δεν παραδίδομαι
όπως κι εσύ, Νίκο Εγγονόπουλε.

Αν και δεν έχω υποβληθεί
σε ΚΤΕΟ γονιδιακών εξετάσεων
ξέρω,
γνωρίζω
πως κάπου, σφηνωμένο βρίσκεται,
γονατιστό και αδρανές απ΄τα σκαμπίλια,
ξεραμένο σα σταφίδα στον ήλιο,
ένα Μικρασιάτικο γονίδιο τρέλας
Μεταξύ μας,
είναι υγιής αντίδραση,
του νου και της καρδιάς,
το πήδημα του μαντρότοιχου,
το ήλιασμα στην τρέλα.
Εκεί ξεκινάει,
εκεί ξεδιπλώνεται
το
"οράν φάος ηελίειο".
Εκεί συνεχίζει η ζωή
που διακόπηκε
μ΄ένα απότομο τράβηγμα απ΄τα μαλλιά
κάποια στιγμή
που σπρώχναμε απαλά
ένα τσιγκάκι από Μπυράλ
στα πεζοδρόμια των ανθρώπων
ανέμελλοι, χαλαροί κι αδιάφοροι
γιά τον "πολιτισμό",
την αποτελεσματικότητα,
την "εξέλιξη"
και τη διαστρέβλωση του παραδείσου
γι αυτό,
αφείστε,
μη βιάζετε,
επιμηκύνετε
τον καλπασμό στις ράχες των ονείρων,
γιατ΄η ζωή είναι μονάχα μία
κανείς δε διαβεβαίωσε και γι άλλες...

Τα πλάσματα της αύριον...

Στα "ελεύθερα", "δημοκρατικά" καθεστώτα, αλλά και σε άλλα (πχ. στην Κίνα όπου προβάρεται ένα αυριανό μοντέλο κοινωνίας ξέφρενων και αδειασμένων καταναλωτών), υπεισέρχονται κάθε τόσο νέες ιδέες. Κάποιες γίνονται αντιληπτές, κάποιες όχι. Προσέξτε, γιά παράδειγμα, τις εκφράσεις που έχουν στα πρόσωπά τους οι πλαστικές κούκλες των βιτρινών. Πρόσωπα ανέκφραστα, στυφά, εγωιστικά, κακομαθημένα, εγώ και ο εαυτός μου... Συγκρίνατε με τη φωτογραφία, άνωθεν. Άντρας ή γυναίκα; Έχει σημασία; Είναι ένα ανδρόγυνο πλάσμα. Το μέλλον. Μιά ανδρόγυνη φούσκα, ένα ανδρογυνοειδές. Απατώνται οικτρά αυτοί/ές που πιστεύουν πως τέτοια πράγματα δεν αφορούν χώρες ζουμερές και "ζεστές" σα την Ελλάδα. Κυκλοφορούν άλλωστε πολλά τέτοια ανθρώπινα δείγματα. Καλό ή κακό; Μμμ, "δε θα μπορέσω να ξέρω", όπως λένε.

Το πλάσμα της φωτογραφίας δεν εκφράζεται. Κρύβει μέσα του απόλυτο κενό συναισθημάτων, χυμών, αγάπης (ακούει μόνο τραγούδια που μιλάν γι αυτήν). Προέρχεται από οικογένειες απασχολημένων, αλλοτριωμένων και ηλιθίων (ή το συνώνυμο, που σκέφτονταν μόνο την καριέρα τους). To πλάσμα, κατά κανόνα, δεν είχε πατέρα ή, είχε κάποιο ολόγραμμα που προσπαθούσε να παίξει το ρόλο του αρσενικού. Δε το χάϊδεψαν, δε το μαλάκωσαν, δε του ξύπνησαν τα αισθήματά του. Είναι "απελευθερωμένο" και ψάχνει φρενιασμένα να βρει από τι άλλο να "απελευθερωθεί". Είναι στεγανό και φοβάται, μοχθηρό γιά να αμυνθεί από άγνωστα συναισθήματα, γιά τα οποία κάτι έχει διαβάσει στα βιβλία που καταβροχθίζει, μασώντας τσίχλες. Οι οργασμοί του είναι σα κομάτια πάγου, ή ξεσηκωμένοι βρυχηθμοί. Στον ύπνο του τινάζεται, καβαλικεμένο σε άγριους ταύρους. Είναι συνεχώς καλωδιωμένο, χαπακώνεται και δεν έχει καμιά αντίρρηση να του φορέσουν ένα τσιπ στο κεφάλι. Περπατώντας στους δρόμους δε βλέπει, ούτε ακούει. Φοράει ακουστικά και ταξιδεύει μέσα σε τραγούδια με μηνιαία λήξη χρήσης...
Όλ' αυτά εννοούσε το ανδροειδές Τίμη Θάλιον (βλ. δημοσίευση, 28 Δεκ., "Το μέλλον είναι εδώ"). Στην τελευταία τηλεοπτική συνέντευξη, όταν τη ρώτησαν αν επιθυμούσε παράταση της ζωής της, άφησε όλες και όλους με ανοιχτό το στόμα όταν είπε πως, "κάτω από άλλες συνθήκες ίσως, κάτω απ' τις σημερινές όμως (το έτος 2053) όχι και, δε ζηλεύω τη μακροζωία σας!"...

Καλό ταξίδι...

Οι "στυλίτες"...

(Οι παρατηρητές και τα κοχύλια τους)

O καθένας μ' ότι του έλαχε πορεύεται στη ζωή. Μέσα στον υγρό κόσμο του μητρικού κόλπου, σ' αυτό που η ανθρώπινη φαντασία βασίστηκε γιά να δημιουργήσει τη μυθολογία του παράδεισου, αόριστοι μηχανισμοί, οι μοίρες που λένε οι απλοί άνθρωποι, συνθέτουν το μωσαϊκό των γονίδιων, ψηφίδα ψηφίδα, πάνω στο έμβρυο. Εκεί μέσα, σ' αυτό το υγρό στρατηγείο, χτίζεται ο πρόλογος του κάθε ανθρώπου. Κι όταν όλα είναι έτοιμα, φτάνει η στιγμή που γεννιέται. Τα πρώτα χρόνια είναι μαγικά. Ψηλαφίζει κανείς τον κόσμο, χωρίς να καταλαβαίνει τι του επιφυλάσσεται. Τα χρόνια περνούν και φτάνει η στιγμή του καθρέφτη. Εκεί βλέπει κανείς ένα καθοριστικό κομμάτι της μετέπειτα πορείας. Κάθε μέρα και κάτι καινούριο ανακαλύπτει. Οι οπτικές πληροφορίες δίνουν κάποια αδιόρατα σήματα που, στην αρχή, δεν είναι αρκετά γιά να στοιχειοθετηθεί άποψη. Μιά κακομορφία, κάτι που δε στέκεται καλά, κάνει τον προσωπικό φακό της προσοχής να σταματήσει, να εστιάσει, να ζουμάρει. Στροφή προς το περιβάλλον, συγκρίσεις, λαχτάρα θετικών επιβεβαιώσεων. Τις παίρνει κανείς, ή δε τις παίρνει. Σε μυστικές συνομιλίες με τον εαυτό μας, αρχίζουμε να καταλαβαίνουμε. Εκεί, στα χρόνια της εφηβείας, η υπόθεση έχει ήδη αποκτήσει θεμέλια. Ένα "κλικ" του εγκέφαλου, πολλές φορές παιδιόθεν, είναι αρκετό γιά να σε εκτινάξει στη θέση του παρατηρητή της ζωής. Στην αρχή δε το καταλαβαίνεις, νομίζεις ότι κάτι κάνεις λάθος και φτάνει να το διορθώσεις γιά να μπεις στο παιχνίδι. Προσπαθείς, με τα μέσα που έχεις, να διορθώσεις την πορεία του ενσωματωμένου επάνω σου σκάφους που θα σε πάει στη ζωή.


Κάπως έτσι, κοχλάζοντας, σε σιωπηλούς και μελαγχολικούς βρασμούς εξελίσσονται τα πράγματα. Ο καιρός περνάει και λίγα αλλάζουν. Ότι δε μπορεί να βγει προς τα έξω, γυρίζει προς τα μέσα, ανεβαίνει ψηλά και θρονιάζεται στο μυαλό, στο κέντρο επεξεργασίας των ατυχιών του ανθρώπου. Γύρω σου χτίζεται, μόνη της, μιά φούσκα, σαν εκείνες που ζωγράφιζε ο Hieronymus Bosch, μιά λεπτή μεμβράνη πέφτει πάνω απ' το πρόσωπό σου, ανάμεσα σ' εσένα και τον κόσμο. Κάποια αδιόρατη χαρακιά ξεπροβάλλει στη παλάμη σου, κάποιος διακανονισμός γίνεται στο μυαλό και, αυτό ήταν, πάει, τέλειωσε... Τέλειωσε; Τί, τέλειωσε; Τίποτα δε τελείωσε. Τώρα ξεκινάνε όλα! Απλά, παραδίνεσαι και παίρνεις αποφάσεις. Νομίζεις πως φταίνε οι μπομπάρδες σου που δε φτάνουν γιά να γκρεμίσουν τα τείχη. Εν πάσει περιπτώσει, δε παίζει ιδιαίτερο ρόλο αν είσαι μέσα στο πλήθος ή στην κορφή μιάς κολόνας. Γίνεσαι στυλίτης της ζωής. Βλέπεις, παρατηρείς, πολλά ή λίγα, αναλύεις. 


Παίρνει πολλά χρόνια (και αν) γιά να καταλάβεις πως η "απόσυρσή" σου, σου καθάρισε το βλέμμα, πως μπορείς να βλέπεις αυτά που οι άλλοι, οι ενεργοί τυφλοί, δε βλέπουν, δε προλαβαίνουν και τα προσπερνούν. Ο κόσμος γελάει, ξεκαρδίζεται, χαχανίζει, χορεύει κι εσύ είσαι απέξω και τα βλέπεις... Σε βαριούνται, δε σε συναναστρέφονται, δεν έχεις πλάκα. Είσαι "η μικρή Ελένη που κάθεται και κλαίει που δε την παίζουνε οι φιλενάδες της". Κούνια που τους κούναγε... Εσύ, αποστρέφεις το βλέμμα σου από τα χοροπηδήματα, τις κλωτσιές, τις αγκωνιές του ανθρωπαριού. Γίνεσαι ένα είδους ταύρου Φερδινάνδου που άφηνε τους άλλους, τους "εκεί κάτω", κι αυτός κάθονταν κάτω απ' τη σκιά ενός δέντρου, κοίταζε τις πεταλούδες και μύριζε τα λουλουδάκια. Συνήθως, γερνάς πιό γρήγορα. Γερνάν, δηλαδή, αυτοί που δε καταλαβαίνουν το κέρδος της ιστορίας. Αν είσαι όμως τυχερός και καταλάβεις και ακονίσεις το μυαλό σου, δε γερνάς καθόλου. Σταματάς το χρόνο, του βάζεις τα δυό πόδια σ' ένα παπούτσι και τον κουμαντάρεις εσύ. Βέβαια, και με τη βοήθεια καλών γονιδίων.


Με τον καιρό, οι άλλοι γύρω σου, γελάν και χοροπηδάνε όσο πάει και λιγότερο. Λαχανιάζουν, δε τα βρήκαν όπως ήθελαν να νομίζουν, αρχίζουν να λυγάνε. Εσύ στέκεσαι ντούρος, με ατσαλένιους μηχανισμούς που τους έχτισες στο ημίφως. Σε βλέπουν και απορούν. "Πώς τα καταφέρνει;", αναρωτιούνται. Εσύ, περπατάς χωρίς ν' αγγίζεις το έδαφος, κοιτάς ψηλά τα σύννεφα που αρμενίζουν και σφυρίζεις σκοπούς που οι άλλοι δε ξέρουν. Μπορεί να τους ήξεραν, αλλά τους έχουν ξεχάσει. Το μέσα τους υπερφορτώθηκε από από καθημερινές αηδίες, "the profit and the loss", άχρηστες πληροφορίες, μελωδίες εφήμερες. Αρχίζουν να σε θέλουν. Νιώθουν πως κάτι έχεις να τους πεις, γιατί αρχίζουν ν' ανακαλύπτουν αυτά που εσύ βρήκες πριν δεκαετίες. Σε φωνάζουν. Εσύ όμως δεν ενδιαφέρεσαι πιά. Τους αποφεύγεις διπλωματικά κι εκείνοι καταλαβαίνουν ακόμα λιγότερο. Δεν είναι θέμα εκδίκησης, καθόλου. Δε σε νοιάζει πιά. Τους βλέπεις να φεύγουν, ο ένας μετά τον άλλον, και ανασηκώνεις τους ώμους. 


Το χάσιμο ενός ανθρώπου δεν έχει καμιά μεγαλύτερη σημασία από το ποδοπάτημα ενός τρυφερού μερμηγκιού. 

Λάθος μας τα μάθαν...

The future is here...

Alebars pastish

Two fragments from my unpublished book "Electra Z."
are looking for reactions...

1.
Timi Thalion

The first android became operational in the year 2047. At least, that was the official version. An unknown number of androids had in fact started functioning much earlier, but no one knows the exact date. In some old archives of the year 2007, we found the information that a peculiar Greek writer had claimed that one of the presidents of the USA - a president who left behind him a legacy of bad memories- had very possibly been an android. The Greek writer, in collaboration with a team of expert scientists, studied thousands of television pictures of the American president's face and reached the conclusion that it could not possibly be the expressions of any human creature. His face was constantly trying to retain a sombre expression when commenting on the great and catastrophic events which had befallen his country, but his sombreness was always succeeded by a smile, as if he was secretely pleased about what had taken place.

This not withstanding, we have to accept Timothea (Τimi) Τhalion, or T.T., the ephemeral", as she was nicknamed by a woman journalist, as the first android to ever "enter circulation" in Gaia. She was given the name Timothea, which means "she who honours the divine", in order to pre-empt the reactions of fanatical religious organizations, which might consider, as in the end they did, the creation of a mechanical human creature as offensive. The name did not manage to save Timi either from constant assoults with tomatoes and eggs, or ftom at least three known assassination attempts, using powerfull "Vlastov" microbombs. These bombs, or more precisely grenades, specially devised for the extermination of androids, are hand held. The hand motion activates a tiny motor, which allows the microbombs to fid their way to the target and stick on it through powerfull suction mechanisms. Following this, small steel drills penetrate the android's body, where they release a chemical powder mixed with a sticky substance which destroys circuits.

The surname Thalion, a version of the Greek name Talos, was given to her in honour of the first mechanical creature of the mythological world, constructed in Minoan Crete by the inventor Deadalus.

Timi was a very tall slender woman, with a perfectly contoured body, a beautiful face and eyes designed to shine like polyhedral diamonds.

The night the manufacturing company Ercibon presented Timi Thalion on SuperGeo, the biggest TV station in the planet reached record audience ratings. Two billion two hundred and twenty milillion viewers, that is, 98% of those who had survived the catastrophic war of the two Hemispheres, watched the great ceremony in honour of the first android. Timi received 127,000 bunches of flowers, and the cash gifts deposited in her bank account were enough for her to live on for twenty five lives. The estimated life span og the first android was seven years. The beautiful Timi became the greatest celebrity on the planet. She wrote her memoir in the sixth year of her life, where she revealed that she had only felt happy during the first year of her life.

In her last TV interview, when asked whether she would wish her life to be longer, she left everyone speechless when she replied "under different circumstances, perhaps, but under the current ones (in the year 2053), no, I do not envy your longvity!"

She also expressed her wish to have her inoperative body painted with haematite (a red ochre), put in a giant nautilus shell*, and buried in the ground.

Everyone was astonished. SuperGeo's messaging devices almost melted as millions of impressed viewers demanded to know Timi's reasons. Timi gave a good history lesson, explaining that she wanted to honour an ancient Australian myth, which narrated that Oundipa women had created Gaia's haematite'sreserves by shedding lots of blood from their wombs. Timi also reminded the audience that many tombs with human bodies painted red had been found, one of them containing the sceleton of a child which had died 83,000 years ago, whose body had been placed in a shell.

Unfortunately, her last wish was not respected. When her bodily functions stopped, she was covered with a special glue and embalmed.

Her body was placed in the Metropolitan Museum of Atlantica, the hypercapital, and became an object of worship, not just by people, but also by all androids manufactured after her..."




2.

"... The employee who served them before escorts them to the exit and bows thanking them. The two androids pay no attention to him and leave the store.

"Sour faces!", the employee whispers through his teeth.

The female Ertzka hears him though. She stops abruptly, turns around and gives him a frosty look. Her eyes turn yellow for a second and the emplyee watches in amazement as all the buttons of his uniform pop and fall on the floor, while his tie turns upward and refuses to come down. The android makes a sound reminiscent of an evil laugh and runs to catch up with the male one.

The two Ertzkas, in their fluorescent jackets, walk down the road and stop an overground taxi.

"Hotel Merimar, please", the female says through the microphone, whilst the camera in the front part of the vehicle processes their image through the computer and sends it to the traffic surveillance unit for filing.

They enter the room without turning on the lights. They move easily in the dark and the female opens the balcony doors. Then it joins the male who's already sitting on the sofa.

"How do you feel, Nevi;", he asks her, tilting his head to one side.

"As relaxed as I always feel in the cloud of warmth you radiate", she whispers to him in reply, her hand lightly stroking his nose.

This gesture must be some sort of a love code, because he stands up and she starts taking his clothes off slowly. Afterwards he does the same to her. The coloured reflections of the city light the two creatures, who stand facing each other. They are silent. Their eyes turn a deep violet colour and their faces become moist. She turns her back to him. The male Ertzka touches her shoulders with the tips of his fingers and she lets out an odd sound.

In time past, when humanity had started to produce the second generation of primitive robots, many intellectuals were critical of this new "species". They claimed that no matter how much robots might develop in the future, they would never be able to feel like a human. They insisted that "these machines have the artlessness of pure calculation and the games they offer are based solely on communications and combinations. In this sense they may be said to be virtuous, as well virtual. Their virtue resides in their tranparency, their functionality, their absence of passion and artifice. Artificial intelligence is a celibate machin... Τhere are prostheses that can work better than humans, "think" or move around better than humans, but there is no such thing as a replacement for human pleasure, or for the pleasure of being human...That is why a human can always be more than he is, whereas machines can never be more than they are".

Thoughts like these had been expressed a decade before the end of the distant year 2000, by one of the brightest minds of this era, and they were taken very seriously. Today, of course, they sound like naive jokes. When somebody asked Timi Thalion, the first android, for her view on such pronouncements, she replied: "No comment! The question itself is patronizing".

Seing the two Ertzkas making love to each other in the dark hotel room, one would be justified thinking that humans have always exaggerated their uniquness and underestimated the potential of technological culture. These two advanced androids look like flamingos in love, and behave towards each other with such a warmth and tenderness that their satisfaction seems well beyond human limits.

The female climbs onto the body of the male, using the powerfull magnets androids have for emergency use, and appliew pressure with her fingertips on various parts of his naked body: under the armpits, in the middle of the chest, on the last vertebra of his spine, on his knees. The male Ertzka seems in ecstasy, entirely abandoning himself to her attentions. This one-sided game lasts about a quarter of an hour and then it is his turn.

His body starts steaming and the pupils of his eyes grow wider. He lays her body on the floor and gives her a deep kiss, making her light up and become semi-transparent.

In a cloud of hot steam lit upp supple body rolls in dizzying ecstasy, as sounds reminiscent of birds of paradise come out of her mouth. Hearing these sounds one can better understand the comment made by one of the two humans married to androids during an interview: "I feel as if I am married to a bird..."

Chapter 13

PRO-VOBIAN: the divine company

The silhouette comes out of its sea of thoughts, shaking with intense cough. Its whole body shakes and it seems to be in pain. It stands up, clasps its hands and puts them on the back of its neck to stretch its diaphragm. It seems that this helps, as the cough stops. It takes a deep breath, sits back down again, and says to the computer:

“Connect me to the Pro-Vobian company”.

The screen opens the website at lightning speed. It goes grey and an android construct drops down fast from the top of the page, landing on its bottom, creating a dust whirl of colour. The construct starts speaking calmly, as some soft music plays in the background.

Welcome to the divine company

PRO-VOBIAN

Gaia suffered and reached the edge of the abyss because of an

incomplete and faulty being, the human!

PRO-VOBIAN is creating the world again from start.

Our androids lead history to its high destiny.

To a world without mistakes and disease, a world

of relaxed harmony.

The cough comes back. The black feline is looking at the jerking silhouette with its eyelashes half open and starts licking itself again. Its tail taps the floor, irritated by the noise of the loud cough.

“Categories of androids”, the creature says, almost drowning.

A long list appears, containing small images and samples of android appearances. The silhouette presses the link “special mission androids” with the tip of its index finger, and a new list comes out, which he scans to the end, looking at the new models.

The cough stops abruptly and the shoulders which had become hunched go back into their normal position.

ERTZKA – PRO-VOBIAN’s finest achievement

ERTZKAS – in male and female versions – are the state of the art in

android manufacture. 5 androbyte brain, 9S/NanoMZ reflexes, ultra-efficient

embodied weaponry. The ERTZKA line is compatible with

142 weapons of the Kaligon line. Furthermore, Arafid, a new line of

weapons is now available, especially designed for ERTZKAs.

Endless expansion capabilities.

Initial life span 15 years.

He carefully reads the pages that follow, full of special information and further specifications, until he reaches the last lines.

PRO-VOBIAN, always sincere toward its clients and its planetaryduty, presents an excerpt of an interview given by ERTZKA designer Naizri Malin. The interview was transmitted by Vobian channel on 03/01/280 PD. The contents refer to some particular details which came up in the ERTZKA line.

The screen shows two people seated at a table, in conversation. One of them is a woman journalist and the other one is Naizri Malin, a  man of about thirty years old. The ERTZKA’s designer has a particularly large skull which shines under the spot lights, as he has no hair at all. His skin is pink, his eyes small, and his ears end in a very pointy lobe, characteristic of highly intelligent people. Naizri Malin explains:

“ERTZKAs have demonstrated a very secretive, abrupt and decisive character from the very beginning, perhaps because the quantity of “dough” – as we in the trade call the grey matter we add to the android’s brain– used in their manufacture was too great. This is not a mistake, of course, it was intentional. We were aiming for a new type of android, with a far more advanced “ocean”, as compared to all our previous lines or those of other manufacturers.

Our company, as you know, does not aim for the replacement of humans by androids. Our mission has a twofold rationale. Firstly, to shield the human species against diseases or other weaknesses, such as the fragility of our nervous system, increase our brain power and generally fortify our bodies. And experimenting with android design and construction helps us a lot to this direction. On the other hand, it is the duty of us all to keep firm control of androids. Robots of all types are servants to the human species. Androids are our partners, they give us counsel and push our history forward…”

The journalist interrupts him:

“Our viewers are familiar with all this. We would like you to tell us how you account for the big and fundamental problem with androids. That is, that they agree to serve us, on the one hand, which had been the main purpose of their construction, but on the other hand they all have a critical and hostile attitude toward humans. Why is it that no solution has been found to this problem?”.

Naizri Malin cannot stop himself sighing. This is the stereotypical question asked by everyone who doesn’t understand, that is, the majority of people. He’s answered this question thousands of times and he is fed up of it. He crosses his arms, clears his throat and begins to talk.

“You know, all inventors are a bit like sleepwalkers, as a brilliant human mind - Arthur Koestler - once said. One constructs a machine for a defined and limited purpose. When this machine is ready, we often discover, with great puzzlement and disappointment, that this construct has its own ideas and it is completely able not only to not follow our directions but to even question our principles.

We said that androids are thinking machines and they possess free will, didn’t we? They are programmed with an infinite quantity of data, and they also have an inbuilt sense of logic, beauty and right.

Let’s take an example from everyday life. Last week I happened to be in the artificial glass park of Atlantica. There, in a football field enclosed by a wire fence, two young boys were playing football. A light spring breeze was blowing and the park’s bird collection was singing merrily. Amongst them, there was a nightingale whose song was absolutely wonderful…”

“Are you joking? What nightingale? There are no nightingales anymore!”, the journalist says, pretending to not understand.

“Come on, I mean the mechanical nightingales which have been installed in the park. So, those two boys, both of them around thirteen and fuelled by incredible amounts of energy, were kicking the ball frenetically, throwing it on the wired fence which then made the most dislikeable sound. They cared about nothing else in the world. They did not see the trees, did not feel the breeze stroking them, did not hear the birds, not even the nightingale . All they heard was the sound of the ball hitting the wired fence. This noise is annoying to a grown up but not to the boys.

Let us now suppose there was also an android standing there with me. Of course, its ears wouldn’t be bothered by the noise, as androids have superhuman resilience, far more than the standard human capabilities. However, the android would process the boys’ indifference to the beauty surrounding them and it would reach a contemptuous conclusion about these two human children, and, consequently, about humans in general. Are you following?”

“I must say, not really”, the journalist replies, slightly lifting one of her eyebrows.

“What I mean is that the nature around us, no matter how much we have destroyed it, continues to offer beauty and magic. We, humans, may not be able to always see or hear it, busy as we are with our affairs, but this is difficult for an android to understand, given its high levels of alertness and sensitivity. Their logic cannot accept the fact that we continue to destroy whatever is left. It is natural that they turn against us. Any developed extraterrestrial creature would react in the same away upon seeing our planet and how we are handling it”.

“What you say is right. But you also belong to one of the groups destroying the planet. Is this not the case?”.

“Yes, that’s true, but it’s not possible for me to do anything else because the centres of power are much higher than me”

“The problem though with the androids’ attitude towards us seems to be getting more and more intense, and we have now reached the Ertzka line, which seems to surpass previous levels of insolence and ingratitude - or not?” says the journalist, trying to provoke him.

Malin smiles at her confidently, pleased that he’s made it intact through the first round of questions.

“I offered this lengthy narrative so that your viewers are able to understand the fundamental substance of what you call a problem. I wouldn’t use this word, I would prefer to call it a logical consequence. If we eat something heavy in the evening and we then put the sleep cables together, we will have a restless night. It is the consequence of the fact that we made a bad choice of food and our stomach hurt. This is what happened with the Ertzkas. We knew in advance that they would be somewhat stroppy. We weighed the advantages against the disadvantages and we took the decision to construct them.

A year after they first came onto the market, they held the second international android summit. There, they managed to resolve decreeing that “androids were not allowed to hurt other androids”, a decision reminiscent of the old human decrees concerning the first robots. I suppose you remember that in had been already decreed in the distant year 2000 that “it is forbidden to robots to hurt humans by their actions”.

Our company’s representatives tried to convince the conference to lay down some exceptions. We didn’t accomplish that much though. As you probably realise, this decision was of major importance for humanity and economic interests. We are still trying with all our means to get them to annul that decision, or accept as many exceptions as possible.

To convince you even more of Pro-Vobian’s sincerity, let’s see an excerpt from the conference which will help you to gain a better understanding of the peculiar attributes of their “character””.

The silhouette watching Pro-Vobian’s site seems to be increasingly interested in those stroppy mechanical creatures. It takes a tall glass containing cloudy blue liquid in its hands and drinks it all at once, making itself more comfortable in its seat.

A huge room packed with an exclusively android audience appears on screen. They are listening attentively to the speaker, a black man in a sparkling form-fitting uniform. Government officials and executives from the big android manufacturing corporations are sitting in a corner.

“I would like to refer to an old text by an American feminist, Donna J. Haraway, entitled “A Cyborg Manifesto”. It was written before the year 2000, and you may wonder what use such old and outdated texts could be to us.

This particular text is of interest to use because the views expressed there are not that different from contemporary human attitudes toward us, although 280 years have gone by. In my view, this is indicative of how slowly the basic structures of human consciousness evolve…”

Laughter is heard from the audience.

“Note that when this text was written humans had not manufactured even one of us yet. They were still playing around with primitive computers and watched “science fiction” films, as they called them, with androids inspiring horror in human consciousness, more or less the same horror that is felt today.

“The cyborg would not recognize the Garden of Eden” wrote that woman, and today we are asking what happened to the garden of Eden that people dreamed of returning to?

Have they themselves, by any chance, erased the paths leading to the joy of innocence?

Cyborgs are “not made of mud and cannot dream of returning to dust”.

She was right, right indeed. We are not made of “mud” and this may bother us, but we carry it in our dreams. I remind humans that they did not respect that wonderful creature, the goddess of all androids, Timi Thalion, and that her last wish to be put in a sea shell and buried in the ground was not respected, something we are never going to forget, which is the basis of one of the proposed resolutions of this Summit. Androids demand burial in the ground and not the dismantlement of their bodies!”

The whole audience stands up in ovation upon hearing the name of the first android.

“Haraway also wrote that “the main trouble with cyborgs, of course, is that they are the illegitimate offspring of militarism and patriarchal capitalism, not to mention state socialism” and to that we reply: yes, that is the case, they constructed us. But it’s not our responsibility, and we do accept the role of military puppets. We are obliged to obey orders, but isn’t this also the case with people?

All this notwithstanding, the chairing committee has one more proposition for your consideration. Our refusal to withdraw other androids during periods of peace! We will not accept…”

His voice is drowned out by loud cheering which won’t subside. The black android lets the audience vent its enthusiasm. The problem of mutual withdrawal is one of the serious everyday problems in the lives of mechanical creatures.

“…the solution humans found to avoid killing each other. We do not accept the title “death machines”!

Finally, I must admit that this woman, despite speaking in an arrogant and contemptuous manner about us, was, however, able to foresee our reaction to the human species, saying that “illegitimate offspring are often exceedingly unfaithful to their origins. Their fathers, after all, are inessential”.

Yes, we agree on this point, and I hereby put forward another proposition: we shall not accept anymore the name “android”! We propose, instead, the term “androgynoid” ! We thus wish to point out our respect to one half of us – the female creatures – and, even more, to differentiate our position from humans who have been discussing this issue for years and have still not managed to balance and control the fear felt by the male gender toward women…”.

The video clip from the android Summit ends at this point, with a panoramic view from a camera hanging from the ceiling of the room.

“Do you see?”, Naizri Malin smiles. “The issue of androids or “androgynoids” as they decided to call themselves, is especially complex. Personally, regardless of whether it is convenient for me or not, I am of the view that their way of thinking is right. They are right. But they are simple in their complexity. There are big groups of people who hold the same views but every human is a labyrinth of positions and contradictions. Every human is like a leaf floating in a sea of contradictions. He knows, he understands and yet, despite all this, he acts against his own better judgement, against his real interests. These fine distinctions are however almost incomprehensible for androids.

To avoid getting lost in these thoughts though, I would like to conclude by saying that the two main problems of humanity with the mechanical thinking creatures are the following:

A.      to make sure that their manufacturing secrets remain well kept, so that we can stop them from manufacturing other androids themselves, and

B.       as you know, androids have a particular expiry date. This is a delicate matter and one of the reasons which causes them to revolt. We have to retain control of their life span by any means possible.

I wouldn’t like to delve deeper into complex matters. I would just like to warn our clients about the peculiarities of Ertzkas. They have amazing mental and physical capacities, but they are showing signs of resistance. They believe wholeheartedly that they are the highest state of achievement in electronic robotechnology, and they are not wrong. They believe in their superiority, and have already formed opinions on how life may continue on Gaia. They demand respect and irrefutable logical argumentation in order to carry out the missions we assign them to. Once they are convinced though, they carry out their missions most successfully.

Obviously, they will consent to full examinations by clients in order to rule out possible suspicions of hidden microphones or cameras.

The purchase of an Ertzka is a high level investment and…”.

“Hypocrites…”, the silhouette whispers with disgust. Suddenly a red lights start blinking in the room. Malin’s image fades out and a window pops up in its place, displaying the same message that is also being calmly spoken by the computer:

  POLICE VEHICLE MOVING OUR WAY!

A brightly-lit vehicle appears on screen, shaped like a crab, getting closer and transmitting a signal.

The silhouette presses two buttons hidden under the metal workbench and music recording devices, a small piano and sets of microphones come out of the four walls of the room. It then stands up, takes a deep breath and its body begins to transform. Its height is reduced, its shoulders become narrower, its head splits into many levels twisting in all directions and coming back together into something else.

Te dark silhouette transforms into a young man of medium height, with upright short hair and a face with rosy cheeks. Making a swift move he points the panther, which was already standing up alert, towards the direction of the elevator. The sleek animal puts its head down docilely and gets out of the room.

A second later, a very intense and weird music fills the room.

The police vehicle has already reached them and is standing very close to them. A gate opens, extends forth and sticks on the silhouette’s vehicle like a sucker. The covered face of a policeman can be seen in the computer screen.

“Vehicle check! Unblock the entrance!”

The young man opens and at least fifteen heavily-armed policemen burst in, in special protection uniforms and dark helmets, weapons in hand. They take the lift to the top of the vehicle and, coming into the room, they make out, in the haze of multicoloured aromatic smoke, a young musician sitting at the piano and playing along to the music coming out of the equipment surrounding him. He stops playing, and showing no sign of concern at the guns pointing at him, he says:

“Welcome, boys! Routine check, huh? Come in, I’ll show you whatever you ask for…”

The policemen look at him silently and their chief orders fiercely:

“No! Stay right where you are! Put your hands behind your head. Search him, boys!”

Three policemen move quickly. One of them immobilises him, the other searches him and the third one nods that the man poses no danger.

“Where is the Plak with the vehicle data?”

“In the drawer, just behind you, Sir” says the musician, becoming formal.

The chief opens the drawer and takes out a small, rectangular device. This lights up immediately and the vehicle data appears on its screen.

“You’re legit. So, what do you do in here with all this smoke?”

“I compose music”

“And the smoke?”

“Oh well, it helps the mind come up with better melodies”, the musician replies with a friendly smile.

“I see. Are you known at all? Famous?”

“No, not really, but I’m trying”

“So I shouldn’t ask for an autograph for my children? I’ve never heard your name before”

“Perhaps the pseudonym - Troy Trofanik. Does it ring a bell?”

“No, forget it. Men, we’re done here!”, the chief says, and turning toward the musician “Thank you!”.

They leave as quickly as they came. The musician waits until the lit vehicle disappears in the dark, and then restores the room to its prior condition. He sits in front of the computer again, and asks for a SÖÖ contact, on a closed communication channel. A few seconds later the puffy face of a middle aged man sitting behind a luxurious desk appears on screen.

“Hello, Nector”, the musician says in a completely altered voice, somewhat throaty.

“Is it you?”, puffy face says nervously, standing up.

“Yes, it’s me. Sit down, no need for you to stand up. We haven’t talked for a while…”

“Yes, yes, of course. How can I help you?”, says the middle aged man, trying to conceal a nervous quiver in his voice.

“I need a favour. I need two Ertzkas. One male and one female”

“What are they?”

“A new type of android, by Pro-Vobian. I need you to order them in your name. The money will be deposited in your account. I would like them to be in your building in Eufemia avenue, in two days time, at two o’clock on Friday afternoon. They will come up to the communication room, and I will talk to them through the monitor. OK?”

“Certainly. Everything will take place as you wish!”

“OK, we’ll talk again. Thank you for the favour. End of communication”, says the musician, and the puffy face disappears.

He stands up and turns off all the lights in the room, apart from a purple oblong lamp. Under its pale light, he starts to transform again. His form becomes taller, his shoulders wider, the body becomes black and takes on a metal sheen. Two elongated wings come out of his back.

The creature leaves the room, takes the lift to the floor below, opens the metal door of the vehicle and, in one leap, he dives into the dark.

Ηλέκτρα Ζ

Απόσπασμα από το βιβλίο "Ηλέκτρα Ζ." (Κώστα Λαδόπουλου)




"... Ο υπάλληλος που εξυπηρέτησε τους συνοδεύει ως την έξοδο και υποκλίνεται, ευχαριστώντας. Τα δύο ανδροειδή δε του δίνουν σημασία και βγαίνουν έξω απ' το κατάστημα.
"Ξινόφατσες!", μουρμουρίζε ο υπάλληλος μέσα απ' τα δόντια του.
Το θηλυκό Έρτζκα όμως τον άκουσε. Σταματάει απότομα, γυρίζει και τον λούζει μ' ένα παγωμένο βλέμμα. Τα μάτια της κιτρινίζουν γιά μιά στιγμή και ο υπάλληλος βλέπει έκπληκτος όλα τα κουμπιά της στολής του να ξυλώνονται και να πέφτουν στο πάτωμα, ενώ η γραβάτα του σηκώνεται όρθια και δε κατεβαίνει με κανένα τρόπο. Το ανδροειδές βγάζει ένα ήχο που θυμίζει σατανικό γέλιο και τρέχει να προλάβει το αρσενικό.
Τα δύο Έρτζκα προχωρούν μέσα στα φωσφορίζοντα μπουφάν τους και σταματούν ένα επίγειο ταξί.
"Στο ξενοδοχείο Μέριμαρ", λέει το θηλυκό στο μικρόφωνο, ενώ η κάμερα απ' το μπρος μέρος του οχήματος περνάει την εικόνα τους στον υπολογιστή και τη στέλνει κατευθείαν γιά επεξεργασία στα κλιμάκια παρακολούθησης καθημερινής κίνησης.
Μπαίνουν στο δωμάτιο χωρίς ν' ανάψουν τα φώτα. Κινούνται άνετα μες το σκοτάδι. Το θλυκό ανοίγει τη μπακονόπορτα της βεράντας. Πηγαίνει δίπλα στ' αρσενικό που έχει ήδη καθήσει στο φαρδύ καναπέ.
"Πώς αισθάνεσαι, Νέβη;" τη ρωτάει γέρνοντας κάπως πλάγια το κεφάλι του.
"Πάντα το ίδιο χαλαρά μέσα στο σύννεφο της ζεστασιάς που εκπέμπεις", του απαντάει και περνάει την παλάμη της απαλά, κάτω απ' τη μύτη του.
Κάποιος ερωτικός κώδικας θα πρέπει να είναι αυτή η χειρονομία, γιατί αυτός σηκώνεται κι εκείνη αρχίζει να του βγάζει τα ρούχα του με αργές κινήσεις. Μετά, κάνει το ίδιο με τα δικά της. Οι πολύχρωμες ανταύγειες από την πόλη φωτίζουν δυό τέλεια πλάσματα που στέκονται αντιμέτωπα. Είναι σιωπηλά και μονάχα κοιτιούνται. Τα μάτια τους παίρνουν ένα βαθύ βιολετί χρώμα και τα πρόσωπά τους υγραίνονται. Εκείνη γυρίζει το σώμα της δείχνοντάς του την πλάτη της. Το αρσενικό Έρτζκα την ακουμπάει στους ώμους με τις άκρες των δακτύλων του κι εκείνη αφήνει ένα περίεργο ήχο να βγει απ' το στόμα της.
Τα παλιά χρόνια, όταν η ανθρωπότητα άρχισε να παράγει μαζικά τη δεύτερη γενιά
των πρωτόγονων ρομπότ, πολλοί διανοούμενοι είχαν κριτική στάση απέναντι σ' αυτή
την καινούρια "ράτσα". Yποστήριζαν ότι, όσο κι αν τα ρομπότ εξελίσσονταν στο μέλλον,δε θα μπορούσαν ποτέ να νιώσουν όπως ένας άνθρωπος. Επέμεναν ότι μιά μηχανή μπορείνα διαθέτει μόνο "την αγαθότητα του λογισμού της, τη διαφάνεια και τη λειτουργικότητα...Η μηχανή αγνοεί τι θα πει πάθος, επιθυμία και τέχνασμα. Η Τεχνητή Νοημοσύνη είναι μιάάγαμη μηχανή... Oι άνθρωποι μπορούν να επινοήσουν μη χανές που δουλεύουν, "σκέφτονται", ή μετακινούνται καλύτερα απ' αυτούς, αλλά δε μπορούν να τους δώσουντην ηδονή του να είσαι άνθρωπος. Ο άνθρωπος μπορεί να ξεπερνά αυτό που είναι,αντίθετα με τις μηχανές που δε θα ξεπεράσουν ποτέ αυτό που είναι".


Σκέψεις σα κι αυτές για τις μηχανές είχαν εκφραστεί, δέκα χρόνια πριν από το τέλος του μακρινού έτους 2000, από ένα από τα λαμπρότερα μυαλά εκείνης της εποχής. Στις μέρες μας βέβαια, ακούγονται σαν αφελή ανέκδοτα. Όταν ρώτησαν την Τίμη Θάλιον, το πρώτο ανδροειδές, να πει τη γνώμη της γι αυτούς που εκφράζαν παραπλήσιες σκέψεις, απάντησε: "Ουδέν σχόλιον! Η ερώτηση είναι υποτιμητική!" .


Βλέποντας κανείς τα δύο Έρτζκα να αγαπιούνται μέσα στο σκοτεινό δωμάτιο του ξενοδοχείου, θα μπορούσε να σκεφτεί ότι οι άνθρωποι πάντα υπερέβαλλαν τη μοναδικότητά τους και υποτίμησαν τις δυνατότητες της τεχνολογικής έρευνας. Αυτά τα δύο εξελιγμένα ανδροειδή μοιάζουν με ερωτευμένα φλαμίνγκος και συμπεριφέρονται μεταξύ τους μ' ένα τόσο "ζεστό" και τρυφερό τρόπο που δίνουν την εντύπωση ότι η ικανοποίησή τους βρίσκεται πολύ πιό πέρα από τα ανθρώπινα πλαίσια. Εκείνη είναι σκαρφαλωμένη πάνω στο σώμα του αρσενικού, χρησιμοποιώντας τους ισχυρούς μαγνήτες που διαθέτους τα ανδροειδή γιά περιπτώσεις ανάγκης, και πιέζει διάφορα σημεία του γυμνού σώματος του αρσενικού συντρόφου της με τις άκρες των δακτύλων. Κάτω από τις μασχάλες, στη μέση του στήθους, στον τελευταίο σπόνδυλο της ραχοκοκκαλιάς, στα γόνατα. Το αρσενικό Έρτζκα μοιάζει να βρίσκεται σε έκσταση, αφημένο στις πρωτοβουλίες της. Αυτό το μονόπλευρο ερωτικό παιχνίδι διαρκεί περίπου ένα τέταρτο και μετά, ξεκινάει εκείνος. Το σώμα του αρχίζει να ατμίζει και οι κόρες των ματιών του μεγαλώνουν. Κατεβάζει το σώμα της στο πάτωμα και της δίνει ένα βαθύ φιλί που κάνει το σώμα της να φωτιστεί και να γίνει ημιδιαφανές.


Μέσα σ' ένα σύννεφο ζεστών ατμών, το αυτόφωτο και σφριγηλό σώμα της κατρακυλάει σε μιά ιλιγγιώδη έκσταση, καθώς βγαίνουν απ' το στόμα της ήχοι που θυμίζουν παραδείσια πουλιά. Ακούγοντας αυτούς τους ήχους, μπορεί κανείς να  καταλάβει καλύτερα ένα σχόλιο, στη διάρκεια μιάς συνέντευξης, ενός από τα δύο ανθρώπινα πλάσματα που παντρεύτηκαν ανδροειδή. "Νιώθω σα να έχω σχέση μ' ένα πουλί", είχε πει ο πιό ντροπαλός από τους δυό..." 

Μπαίνω μες τον ωκεανό μασώντας μία μέντα...

The Ocean Is the Ultimate Solution

http://youtu.be/Ec2wiVk18gI