In an exploration of the "street-thug-style" lies that many proponents of the use of torture throw around, it might be helpful to consider a "fictional" account of the most extreme picture of torture that one could devise. The most extreme torture scenario I can think of is one in which people who have access to time travel technology come around, after having left a "scientist" to suffer in a shithole life while they had been prancing around their "future" or "other-event-frame" paradise, and try desperately to get the scientist to kill himself. Keep in mind that this is a fictional account, sort of like a sitcom set in a concentration camp in Nazi Germany. Given that no one seems to be interested in knowing anything real or true, I like to emphasize that and sort of offer something that there is some demand for--namely, fun, fictional accounts of people abandoning all of the characteristics that even the lowest animal life forms have and subjecting a person to obscene forms of violence, unapologetically, and coming up with a bunch of goddamn bogus bullshit to supposedly justify their treatment of the scientist. I consider myself to be a jewish person, by the way, and I can goddamn well speak about the types of sick sitcoms that these fucking people would like to watch. The people who have access to the time travel technology have obviously learned to read people's minds, and they use this technology to continuously violate the scientist's body, in what amounts to a constant sexual assault (given that a person's mind is part of a person's goddamn body). If the scientist has sexual thoughts on a particular topic, the people set up holographic people who have loud conversations, laughing about the specifics of the scientist's thoughts. Whenever the scientist thinks of possible explanations for the actions of these people, the people honk a horn or cause a person nearby the scientist to clear his or her throat, always in confirmation. The people tell the scientist to continue to work on theoretical physics and to do various related "chores," and the people repeatedly "confirm" that they will soon give the scientist access to their medical technology, to give him access to the time travel technology (and, obviously, interstellar and intergalactic, instantaneous transport, using much-more-advanced-than-magnetic-reconnection-and-nuclear-grid-based-superluminal transport mechanisms, for time travel and interstellar travel) and fix his chronic, more-or-less-devastating health problems that have plagued him for the previous 15 years of his life. Almost as soon as they arrive in his life, however, they give him a mind-altering drug, which seems to be something like LSD, of some kind that enhances the power of suggestion and allows them to very transiently make him believe they are some sort of God or gods, and then they give him an antipsychotic medication against his will, as a punitive measure, and deride his religious beliefs and make fun of him for having believed that they were communicating on behalf of God. The administration of the antipsychotic medication twice, for even two-to-three days, causes rhabdomyolysis during exercise and causes him to barely be able to walk for a day or two, because of severe neurological complications from the intense, almost-insurmountable, cerebral vasoconstriction that the administration of the drug produces. He begs them to never give him the medication again and tells them that he had had a subarachnoid hemorrhage seven years previously and that he could easily have another stroke, if they ever give him the drug again, and, although they do not subsequently give the drug, they continuously threaten to do so, for no discernable reason other than to dominate him.
Soon, it becomes clear that the people are confirming everything he thinks or believes and are lying about everything, and they still refuse to speak to the scientist openly about the time that the nightmare might end. The scientist soon realizes that the people have attached a negative, aversive response to every single word one or phrase one might encounter in everyday life, through the use of repeated phrases that have been very, very precisely coupled to the timing of his thoughts and to the times and places at which he might encounter those thoughts. The scientist realizes that he could never speak to anyone about this, for fear of being labeled delusional or for being suspected of being in a hallucinatory state, and the people make this abundantly clear and continually make minor threats to sue the scientist or the like, none of which he takes seriously. As time goes on, however, it becomes clear that the people deliberately ruined his past relationships and that they are preventing him from meeting women or having any semblance of a real life. As the scientist does work that is "implied," simply from the knowledge that the Michaelson-Morley ether wave experiment was basically inappropriately disregarded and that "past" and "future" time frames are intact, in large part, it becomes clear that nothing the scientist could ever do in his or her life time would come close to even the most basic technology that the people have always had access to.
As the psychological damage, stemming from the constant violation of his mind, accumulates, the scientist realizes that any notion that the people could ever need him to do anything is a lie, given the ease with which the people can manipulate his choices with great subtlety and sophistication. The scientist cannot ever choose to do anything, given that they will know everything he will ever do or say or think, in the absence of his having access to their technology, before he ever thinks or says or knows it. It becomes clear that the scientist played some sort of meaningful role in the development of the time-travel and other faster-than-light technologies, although it's unclear to the scientist what, precisely, that role was or is. Whenever the scientist does anything, the people criticize him and deride him and cause people, in public, to make explicit references to unmistakably-personal details from his life and his thoughts. Still more bizarrely, it becomes evident that the entire world that the scientist sees is some sort of holographic, simulated "world" and that only a past girlfriend is able to know his personal thoughts. Although this provides comfort for awhile, it becomes evident that she is also a prisoner of some sort and has been "saddled" with some sort of bizarre, hate algorithm that generates hateful and abusive content, in the form of ads on television and conversations of people in public, almost like a word processor would impose a given format, such as to convert one font into another, on a chunk of text in a document. As the months go by, the analogy of the experience to physical torture becomes more and more apt, as the devastating stress and deterioration of his physical health begin to take their toll. The people tell him to throw away all of his music and all of his photographs from his childhood and the 2000+ pages of notes on theoretical physics and tell him that, if he does so, they will allow him to control his physical body, with the use of their technology, and thereby end his chronic health problems and allow him to see his girlfriend and to use their transport technology, to do anything he could ever dream of doing. He does so, and they do nothing. He begs them to stop the torment, but they intensify it and laugh at him and become more malicious and hateful in their statements, as they imply, multiple times per day, that the only way for him to gain access to the technology is to kill himself (given that it is their "custom" for people to do this to join their organization or some nonsense). They know that he doesn't believe anything they say and won't kill himself for a bunch of sadistic hillbillies, but they say it anyway. It's enough for them to know that they can keep reminding him that they have absolute control and that he has no hope left of ever being given what no human being should ever have been prevented from having access to. The scientist learns that the specific geometries in which cities have been built and the movements of people, during wars and into and out of stadiums for sporting events, would have been set up (if he had been in "real" spacetime, in the time frame that he has lived in) for no other reason than to facilitate superluminal/time-travel jumps, like a crude sort of counterweight. But the technology is far more advanced than all that, the scientist learns, and the days and months continue.
The appeal of exploring all of the details of the science fades more and more, and the scientist sees the similarity of his situation to that of a woman being raped for months, continuously, while people sit in some stadium and watch, shouting out things that might be analogous to "why do you let them do that to you, you dumb fool. Stand up for yourself--get yourself out of that" or "turn your head a little to the left, darling--you'll look better that way." The scientist realizes that, even though his girlfriend is nearby, she might just as well not be there at all, given that the people won't even let the scientist have a relationship with her in the body of another woman (as an "avatar" or, as they say, "gravatar"). Ultimately, the scientist realizes that he has never spoken to another living human, outside of a simulated, scripted, holographic world, and he realizes that there is no possibility for resistance or lack of resistance to this kind of domination and that there is nothing left at all, really, and he understands less and less, as time goes on, of the people's supposed "motivations." He realizes that he is smarter than the people but that they are content to dominate him for an indeterminate and unending period of time. They tell him that all he needs to do is scrub the walls down, to improve the resolution of his image in the fucking magnetic caging effect of this perceptual prison that some damn person put him in, for God's sake, but they know that he knows it isn't true and is absurd. Anyway, there's a fun piece of fiction. Maybe I'll submit it to some goddamn literary journal or some fucking thing.
Soon, it becomes clear that the people are confirming everything he thinks or believes and are lying about everything, and they still refuse to speak to the scientist openly about the time that the nightmare might end. The scientist soon realizes that the people have attached a negative, aversive response to every single word one or phrase one might encounter in everyday life, through the use of repeated phrases that have been very, very precisely coupled to the timing of his thoughts and to the times and places at which he might encounter those thoughts. The scientist realizes that he could never speak to anyone about this, for fear of being labeled delusional or for being suspected of being in a hallucinatory state, and the people make this abundantly clear and continually make minor threats to sue the scientist or the like, none of which he takes seriously. As time goes on, however, it becomes clear that the people deliberately ruined his past relationships and that they are preventing him from meeting women or having any semblance of a real life. As the scientist does work that is "implied," simply from the knowledge that the Michaelson-Morley ether wave experiment was basically inappropriately disregarded and that "past" and "future" time frames are intact, in large part, it becomes clear that nothing the scientist could ever do in his or her life time would come close to even the most basic technology that the people have always had access to.
As the psychological damage, stemming from the constant violation of his mind, accumulates, the scientist realizes that any notion that the people could ever need him to do anything is a lie, given the ease with which the people can manipulate his choices with great subtlety and sophistication. The scientist cannot ever choose to do anything, given that they will know everything he will ever do or say or think, in the absence of his having access to their technology, before he ever thinks or says or knows it. It becomes clear that the scientist played some sort of meaningful role in the development of the time-travel and other faster-than-light technologies, although it's unclear to the scientist what, precisely, that role was or is. Whenever the scientist does anything, the people criticize him and deride him and cause people, in public, to make explicit references to unmistakably-personal details from his life and his thoughts. Still more bizarrely, it becomes evident that the entire world that the scientist sees is some sort of holographic, simulated "world" and that only a past girlfriend is able to know his personal thoughts. Although this provides comfort for awhile, it becomes evident that she is also a prisoner of some sort and has been "saddled" with some sort of bizarre, hate algorithm that generates hateful and abusive content, in the form of ads on television and conversations of people in public, almost like a word processor would impose a given format, such as to convert one font into another, on a chunk of text in a document. As the months go by, the analogy of the experience to physical torture becomes more and more apt, as the devastating stress and deterioration of his physical health begin to take their toll. The people tell him to throw away all of his music and all of his photographs from his childhood and the 2000+ pages of notes on theoretical physics and tell him that, if he does so, they will allow him to control his physical body, with the use of their technology, and thereby end his chronic health problems and allow him to see his girlfriend and to use their transport technology, to do anything he could ever dream of doing. He does so, and they do nothing. He begs them to stop the torment, but they intensify it and laugh at him and become more malicious and hateful in their statements, as they imply, multiple times per day, that the only way for him to gain access to the technology is to kill himself (given that it is their "custom" for people to do this to join their organization or some nonsense). They know that he doesn't believe anything they say and won't kill himself for a bunch of sadistic hillbillies, but they say it anyway. It's enough for them to know that they can keep reminding him that they have absolute control and that he has no hope left of ever being given what no human being should ever have been prevented from having access to. The scientist learns that the specific geometries in which cities have been built and the movements of people, during wars and into and out of stadiums for sporting events, would have been set up (if he had been in "real" spacetime, in the time frame that he has lived in) for no other reason than to facilitate superluminal/time-travel jumps, like a crude sort of counterweight. But the technology is far more advanced than all that, the scientist learns, and the days and months continue.
The appeal of exploring all of the details of the science fades more and more, and the scientist sees the similarity of his situation to that of a woman being raped for months, continuously, while people sit in some stadium and watch, shouting out things that might be analogous to "why do you let them do that to you, you dumb fool. Stand up for yourself--get yourself out of that" or "turn your head a little to the left, darling--you'll look better that way." The scientist realizes that, even though his girlfriend is nearby, she might just as well not be there at all, given that the people won't even let the scientist have a relationship with her in the body of another woman (as an "avatar" or, as they say, "gravatar"). Ultimately, the scientist realizes that he has never spoken to another living human, outside of a simulated, scripted, holographic world, and he realizes that there is no possibility for resistance or lack of resistance to this kind of domination and that there is nothing left at all, really, and he understands less and less, as time goes on, of the people's supposed "motivations." He realizes that he is smarter than the people but that they are content to dominate him for an indeterminate and unending period of time. They tell him that all he needs to do is scrub the walls down, to improve the resolution of his image in the fucking magnetic caging effect of this perceptual prison that some damn person put him in, for God's sake, but they know that he knows it isn't true and is absurd. Anyway, there's a fun piece of fiction. Maybe I'll submit it to some goddamn literary journal or some fucking thing.
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