A friend of mine got me thinking about conspiracy and propaganda in the world today. I am reminded of Star Trek Voyager .
Seven of Nine decides to increase the amount of information she receives from the ship's database by directly assimilating as much of Voyager's data as possible. This allows her to draw conclusions from varied sources of data and find bugs in one of the systems. Meanwhile, the ship encounters an alien who has constructed a catapult capable of throwing a ship several hundred light years in a few hours. The crew of Voyager help him repair his array, with hopes that if he makes the trip successfully they can then use it to shorten their trip home. Seven of Nine downloads the data about the catapult, but she begins to exhibit paranoid behavior. She uses evidence concerning possible spatial-warp technology developments to convince Chakotay that Janeway might be spearheading a Federation presence in the Delta Quadrant. Although skeptical, Chakotay delays the shield modifications necessary for the catapult trip so he can examine the evidence himself.
After another regeneration/assimilation cycle, Seven has a new conclusion. She uses the same evidence to convince Janeway that Chakotay might be spearheading a power grab for the Maquis with the same technology.
The two end up comparing stories and they realize Seven is acting irrationally. The Doctor determines that Seven has downloaded more information than she can handle.
Seven then starts suspecting a third conspiracy: that the aim of the last five years was actually to grab a Borg drone, herself. Seven steals the Delta Flyer in order to escape from Voyager. Janeway manages to beam aboard. She convinces Seven that she is ill and she returns to Voyager for treatment.
The crew successfully uses the catapult to travel closer to the alpha quadrant, cutting 3 years off their journey
If seven can't handle information overload neither can we, keep in mind 7 has lost 1/2 the blood to her head, tight clothes do that.
Over sorrows well
where the silvered sons of murk dwell
Brak upon spotted backs
They are flashing shots descending
Over a dead forest forgotten
Soaking giants drown and still
Weeping into sorrows well
where the silvered sons of murk dwell
I remember a particular fishing trip to lake shannon. right before dawn the still water of the lake was impossibly black but had a transparency. The kokanee salmon flashed in contrast in the murk maybe 10 ft down. You could see them cutting through the water like knives. Plainly visible you could see the black spots on their backs. After staring into the water my eyes adjust and straining, I suddenly saw the great black trees reaching up from the deep. What I was looking at was the corpse of a dead forest. It filled me with a uneasy sadness, lake shannon is a artificial lake a reservoir and a beautiful killer at dawn.
He showed again looking down at me. I can see his head tilting back and forth, his eyes squinting, straining to see the floor of my home. The darkness around me keeps me safe and hidden but this boy is annoying. Yesterday he started whistling at me, the echoing squeal was almost unbearable. Today he began by tossing a few rocks and listening to them thump into the ground below. Imagine someone showing up at your home and throwing this and that around, once again this child has chosen to irritate me. It is plain to me the boy will not leave me be, his curiosity getting the better of him. I will have to do away with this unfortunate annoyance, tomorrow I will be prepared .
I placed a shiny coin on the ground making sure to allow just a little light through my darkness. I’m quite proud of the bait I have set out, I am sure it will suffice. He arrived during my my nap and when I woke he was already lighting a wad of straw. I really hate it when people drop fire into my home, its not that it scares me or the light burns its just unpleasant, the smell remains for days. I snuff the dropped fire and retreat allowing the sunlight to polish the coin.
Surprisingly the boy seemed to ignore the coin and trod off. That's a first I was certain he would lean in and I could just reach up and pluck him like a piece of rosy cheeked fruit. Happily the boy return with a ladder. He’s a brave one that's for certain, the child is actually coming to me, that's nice. The ladder lands on my floor and the boy immediately begins his descent. He pops on his flashlight now that is a problem those gadgets make a terrible humming noise and I am not longer simply annoyed, the noise is painful. He nears the bottom and I decide that offending device has worn out its welcome. Reaching out at the boy I say “didn’t you mother tell you not to play near wells”