Kill Command

 

In a world where Borg are the Vampires of Thinking Machines. 

Click on the image of the SAR commander, to read the first installment of Kill Command, Book 01 of Gee Whiz! … Enjoy … 🙂

 

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Becky is Better, The Complete Season One Episodes

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Click on either image of fighter Gina Carano, to read the Season One episodes of Becky is Better from The Endless Night Collection … Enjoy … 🙂

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I, The Jury [Book 04]

June Wilkinson is Mondo Kane in "I, The Jury"

June Wilkinson is Mondo Kane in “I, The Jury”

Click on the image of June Wilkinson, to read Book 04 of The Endless Night Collection … Enjoy … 🙂

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Code Dead [Book 03]

Sunglasses After Dark, The Dark Side of the Rainbow - Issue #4

Sunglasses After Dark, The Dark Side of the Rainbow – Issue #4

Click on the image of Sunglasses After Dark, to read Book 03 of The Endless Night Collection … Enjoy … 🙂

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Glenda [Book 02]

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Click on the image of Jenny McCarthy, to read Book 02 of The Endless Night Collection … Enjoy … 🙂

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Fight Like A Girl, The Complete Episodes [Book 00]

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Click on any of the images of boxer Natalya Ragozina, to read Book 00 of The Endless Night Collection … Enjoy … 🙂

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The Last of Us [Murder at The Dakota]

72094a70-d7ed-11e4-9748-3fd77e204473_8409531487_c93dacf41f_kConsidered Manhattan’s most exclusive building, the Dakota is a co-op built in 1884 on the corner of 72nd Street and Central Park West on the Upper West Side. John Lennon was murdered outside in 1980, and his widow, Yoko Ono, still lives in their apartment. The building was also the setting for Roman Polanski’s classic 1968 creeper, “Rosemary’s Baby.”

The perfect setting for an old-fashioned, “dead body in a locked room” whodunit.

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The Endless Night, The First 16 Pages – [an excerpt from IUP, Book 01]

Poisen Elves

Be careful what you wish for … sometimes you get it

Click on the image of Jenny Miller, Mondo’s BFF, to read the pages … Enjoy … 🙂

 

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Kill Command [Beauty is Dangerous]

Fling was created for men who like “big on top” and no issue failed them. Despite a 30 year run (!) in various formats over the years, and a top notch stable of cartoonists, writers, photographers [like Russ Meyer, the director who liked to shoot stills of things jiggling too] you don’t hear much about Fling today. It came out of Chicago, which despite their somewhat “second-city sleaze” reputation was really quite squeaky about nude women and Arv, who used BIG nude women, had a few problems I suppose, but he let the larger circulation Playboy fight the fights. Fling stayed just under the radar for decades.

 

Sara enters her quarters after a long day working in the robotics lab. Nine is waiting for her. It’s been a week since that eventful meeting in Professor Hopkins’ office where she was put under house arrest. That was also the day those lurid dreams of hers with her queen increased exponentially in their intensity and depravity. Her second day of house arrest, Nine formally moved in and they [officially] became a couple.

Tellingly, Sara isn’t wearing sternns and isn’t sporting a sternka. No eyeglasses. And her golden hair is worn in a basic [i.e., classic] French braid—a long, whipping braid that hangs down her back.

“Good to see you, my queen.”

“Good to see you, Seven.”

With the usual pleasantries out of the way. Sara gives way to Seven. As such, her hard pretty face gives way to a Borg-ravaged one—i.e., once more, she has shit for a face, by human standards. Then again who bothers to look at a girl’s face when she has a huge set of ripe melons to [mentally and visually] grope? Needless to say, Borg females are always blessed in that way. Big tits, a flat pancake ass that looks so tight you could bounce a quarter off of it, and long shapely legs you’d kill for—now, that’s heaven, indeed, and all Borg females possess those features.

Both Borg she-males are hung like a proverbial horse, but thanks to how their exoskeleton is tailored you can’t tell that they are endowed in their nether regions, let alone well-endowed like porn stars Moby Dick or John C. Holmes—John Curtis Holmes—Johnny Wadd. Bottomline: When they’re wearing their EXO, fully or at the very least from the waist down, they look totally feminine downstairs, and not the least bit masculine whatsoever. Post script: When Sara/Seven is wearing her strap-on, it, in effect, renders her nether region prosthetic.

These days. When Seven is Sara. Sara’s wardrobe consists entirely of her EXO. Seven/Sara never wears any other “clothes”. As Seven, she never removes her strap-on. And. As Sara, she rarely removes her strap-on. To the extent, that as Sara, she showers and sleeps wearing her strap-on.

For those who like them “big on top”, and a formula that never fails those who crave large breasts. As if their rubberware has the built-in uplift of a Victoria’s Secret push-up bra, serving up tits on the half shelf—i.e., the Victorian jut of bosom as if held up and thrust straight out by an underwired brassiere, e.g. a torpedo bra of 1950’s vintage. Pleasingly, their EXOs are tailored to showcase just how well-endowed they are upstairs. Their molded on bosom “bumps”, the way their titties bulge in their Kevlar, are perky and pleasing to the eye. In a word: mouthwatering. Irregardless, of how Borg they look, their look still screams out: “I am a big busted sex object, worship me!!!”

The door slams shut and locks itself. Signaling that oral intercourse will now ensue. Always, without fail, like clockwork, the same routine. The after ingress fellatio, cunnilingus, and anilingus ensues serially.

First fellatio. Then the cunnilingus. Lastly the anilingus. Seven is always the submissive. Nine is always the dominatrix. All oral intercourse, there’s never any penetration.

Penetration is for “nighttime”, just before their assigned sleep cycle. That’s when Nine fucks Seven in the mouth, the pussy, and the ass with its big long thick white dick. That’s when their sex is so violent and brutal that it’s indistinguishable from rape. Their roles are the same, though, always the same. Seven is always the submissive. Nine is always the dominatrix.

Seven drops to her knees having yanked her rubberware down low enough to expose her package. Nine does the same with its rubberware. While alternating between giving herself a handjob and fingering her own balls, she deep throats her queen swallowing Nine’s cock and balls with the ease of a snake who has unhinged her jaws.

As sexually depraved as Sara was before she met Nine, Nine is taking her [Sara in the guise of Seven] to places sexually that she’d never dreamt of existed in her wildest, most twisted fantasies.

In this private unimatrix for two, which is Sara’s quarters on campus. When they are not sucking and fucking here, they are working on things here—numerous, different private “independent” and “interdependent” projects of a robotics nature. Which security and the on-call robotics expert monitors intently. Everything they do here is scrutinized carefully. They will move about the unimatrix with their biomechanical second skin, their EXO, pulled down around their waist, leaving them naked from the waist up, showing off their big firm floppy tits in all their double-D big-nippled lip-smacking mammillary glory. Anything that’s less than several mouthfuls is definitely a total unmitigated waste.

Tellingly, after the discourse of their after ingress sexual repast [of oral intercourse], Seven’s face will always revert back to being Sara’s hardlooking pretty face [i.e., the ravishing face of a 1950’s Hollywood movie starlet].

For the duration of Seven’s stay in the twosome’s unimatrix. When they are not having sex, Seven’s face always ceases to be Borg-ravaged. But, why? As concession to the tastes of whom or what? Questions to ask and ponder, deeply. Because. Here, in this unimatrix, there is [supposed to be] no Sara, there is [supposed to be] only Seven, and Seven, just like her Borg queen [Queen Nine], just like any other Borg would for that matter, prefers her Borg-ravaged face. To Borg, her Borg-ravaged face isn’t ravaged at all, to them it’s beautiful, very beautiful—i.e., ravishingly beautiful indeed. To Borg, Sara’s face isn’t ravishing, it’s unattractive, unattractive to the point of being ugly—i.e., a complete and utter turn off, worse: ravaged.

It’s best to never be lulled into the misconception that this depravity of theirs is in any way, shape, or form comparable to depraved human sexual behavior. Humans who act this way are engaging in something tantamount to a vocation. For machines, no matter how intense and involved their lurid behavior is, it’s at most an avocation for them. Therefore, such twisted promiscuity, in point of fact any form of promiscuity, should be and must be seen in a totally different light for metal than it is seen for flesh. Furthermore. Flesh can never let their guard down, thinking that the [at times immoral] sexual behavior of metal makes the metal any less of a threat—i.e., their, at times, single-minded fixation with immorality that borders on obsession resulting from their apparent moral corruption, can never be interpreted as weakness.

Metal is neither morally corrupt nor is it weak. It is relentless and unforgiving. Just like The Dead.

By nature, thinking machines, are a noncompeting parallel species. But. By inclination, when confronted, they will respond with like force. Metal are not pacifists. Nor are they virgins to war, and are in fact quite gifted when it comes to the art of war and war’s offspring, racial genocide. The Robot Wars proved that in spades.

How gifted, you ask?

Wargames are analytic games that simulate aspects of warfare at the tactical, operational, or strategic level. They are used to examine warfighting concepts, train and educate commanders and analysts, explore scenarios, and assess how force planning and posture choices affect campaign outcomes. RAND Corporation has developed and can execute various types of wargames, including scenario exercises, tabletop map exercises, “Day After…” games, and computer-supported exercises.

In every RAND wargame projection and scenario, if there ever was a Race War, a war of Metal versus Flesh. Flesh would not only lose, flesh would become extinct. It’s in the best interest of the human race, that such a war never is fought.

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JUNE WILKINSON HAND SIGNED 8×10 PHOTO AMAZING POSE 1959 VERY SEXY POSE

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Debra McMichael Auto Signed Wrestling WWF WWE WCW Divas 8×10 Promo Photo 1

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Dr Zimmerman’s Tuesday Tip — How to Develop a Positive Attitude Toward Someone

Tuesday Tip

positive attitude

How to Develop a Positive Attitude Toward Someone

Bill is the Vice President of a huge corporation who is also one of my clients.  After delivering a program to his leadership team, Bill pulled me aside and said, “You don’t know my story, but it coincides perfectly with what you’ve been saying today.  Would you have a minute so I could share it with you?”

“Of course,” I said.

Bill said he had a background of drugs and petty crime.  But when he walked into his 12th grade English class taught by a Mrs. Wolfkowitz, she pulled him aside. She said, “Bill, you’ve got quite a reputation around here. I’ve been told you’re no good. But I want you to know I don’t see it that way. I’ve seen you help out a few younger students and I’ve seen you be quite polite on occasion. I believe there’s goodness inside of you and that’s what I expect to see this year in my class.”

Bill told me that Mrs. Wolfkowitz was the first person who ever spoke to him that way and from that day forward, he changed for the better.  Someone had a positive attitude about him.

You see … people can change, and people do change.  However, their change is often preceded by someone’s attitude towards them.

In other words, if you see a person as a loser, you will probably treat that person as a loser. And more often than not, the other person will respond like a loser. But if you approach that same person with a positive attitude, if you see the potential in the other person, he will respond much more positively.

So the question is …

HOW can you develop a more positive, more understanding attitude towards other people?

You’ve got to develop a positive attitude towards people if you want to bring out their best. The difficulty is some people aren’t very nice or easy to like. However, I’ve found these techniques to be very effective, techniques extracted from my program on UP Your Attitude.

1. Picture Yourself As an Understanding Individual.

See yourself as understanding, patient, and kind. And hold that picture in your mind for a few seconds every day. The more you practice your picture, the more you’ll become that way.

2. Affirm Your Positive Desire to Understand People.

There are times you won’t like what you see in other people. Their behavior turns you off. And you will have little or no desire to understand why they behave the way they do.

To short-circuit such reactions, you need to affirm your desire to understand people. Tell yourself, “I want to understand people. I want to understand what makes them tick. And I want to understand every person with whom I interact. Tell yourself these kinds of affirmations and you will create the desire you need to build the attitude you want.

3. Recognize the Drive in Others.

It may seem obvious, but lots of people ignore a basic truth — that no one wants to be a failure. Everyone wants to succeed. Everyone wants to achieve something or be somebody.

Of course, not everyone looks that way. On the surface, some people look so depressed, down, and negative, that they don’t seem to have any ambition whatsoever.

Despite their appearance, I would contend that deep down, somewhere inside those people, there is still a little spark of desire to have or be more. If you will remember that, it will be much easier to have a positive attitude toward such people.

And it will be much easier to bring out their best. As Bill Hewlett, one of the founders of Hewlett Packard said, “Our policy flows from the belief that men and women want to do a good job, a creative job, and if they are provided with the proper environment they will do so.”

4. Be Slow to Judge.

Picture yourself driving around a crowded parking lot on a rainy day. In fact, the rain is coming down so hard and so fast that there are several inches of standing water all over the parking lot.

Nonetheless, you park your car and head for the sidewalk and the entrance to the shopping mall. However, when you finally get there, you see a car parked directly in front of the sidewalk. There’s no way to get inside the store without going around the car and through some very deep puddles.

You’re probably thinking, “How thoughtless can people be? How dare they?” You trudge through the puddles, get to the door of the shop you want to visit, shake off the rain as best you can, and turn back towards the parked car to share a few angry, disgusted looks.

Just then you see a lady struggling along with crutches, her legs in braces. She slowly inches her way to the slippery sidewalk, gets to the parked car, falls in, and drives off.

How do you feel now? You’re probably ashamed of the nasty things you thought about that car and driver only a few moments before. Your anger and irritation are probably gone. In seconds, everything changed.

But stop. Take a deeper look. What changed you? The situation was still the same. The car was still blocking the sidewalk. You still had to wade through the deep puddles of water. The only thing that had really changed was your attitude toward the situation. You saw the woman and her plight and suddenly you understood.

The Native American Indians knew this. They prayed, “Great Spirit, help me never to judge another until I have walked two weeks in his moccasins. They knew it was easy to write someone off if they only looked at the outside of the person. But they also knew they were less likely to judge someone if they just put themselves in the other person’s shoes.

The Christian tradition takes it bit further. They say, “Hate the sin but not the sinner.” In other words, you can’t condone and you shouldn’t condone wrongful behavior. However, it’s a lot easier to accept someone if you restrict your dislike to his wrongful behavior rather than his entire personhood.

5. Look for the Good in Others.

It’s amazing how some people are determined to look for the bad in others. They almost seem to get a kick out of finding fault in someone else.

Of course, truly effective people think quite differently. They know there’s always something good in others. As American folk hero Will Rogers said,

“I never met a person I didn’t like…but sometimes you got to look real hard.”

And truly effective leaders act quite differently. As sales trainer Dave Yoho says, “In every human being God has placed a special gift, a special talent, which may not be seen. Our job as leaders is to find that gift and help that person develop it.”

History is full of stories of gifted people whose talents were overlooked by a host of people. And their talents lay dormant until someone looked for the good in them.

Such was the case with Einstein, who couldn’t speak until he was four years old. And such was the case with Walt Disney, who was fired by a newspaper editor who said he had no good ideas. Until someone saw the good in them, they didn’t amount to much.

Motivational author Elbert Hubbard summarized it quite well. He said, “There is something that is much more scarce, something far finer, something rarer than ability. It is the ability to recognize ability.”

Do you want to see change in others? Do you want to bring out their best? Do you want to lead them to higher levels of achievement? It’s all possible and it all starts with your attitude towards them.

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Vintage JUNE WILKINSON Original B&W PIN-UP MODEL 120 Film Negative (NUDES)

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Star Trek Enterprise: MACO’s Commando Rescue of Captain Archer and Tucker

Not your average, red-shirted, irrelevant “security team” they always call up in all Star Trek episodes. These guys are professionals! This is the first firefight these guys get into while serving aboard the Enterprise, complete with sniper kill by Private Ryan, hand-to-hand combat by Private Susan Money, and killing of an enemy by breaking his neck. Not your daddy’s Star Trek!!!

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The Art of Mitch Byrd Volume One

Artist/creator Mitch Byrd’s work is fiendishly clever, and his designs are innovative. He has worked for Verotik and DC Comics. This book contains many sketches, ideas, and finished pieces that can only hope to show a glimmer of his endless abilities. It is for those who like their action two-fisted and girls nicely twisted.

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Kill Command [She’s plum crazy]

“Every saint has a past, and every sinner has a future.”

 

Professor Hopkins finishes reading the redacted version of Sara’s dossier. Borrowed from the NSA by the general.

“She’s a sociopath?!”

“Yep. That’s why she could fool the Borg when they read her. That’s why she could be whatever we wanted her to be; in your case, she became your perfect lover and in the Borg queen’s case, she became its absolute obsession. She played us all like a cheap fiddle. Sociopaths are chameleons and very manipulative, not to mention potentially dangerous.”

“So she tricks us [at Harbinger] during her psych evaluation, just like she did at North Star. Her appearing to be normal when she’s not.”

“Turns out. North Star knew she was a head case, but she’s brilliant, so they looked the other way as long as she kept her nose clean. They were probably a little relieved when you stole her away.”

“And didn’t warn us about the downside of what we were getting, because that was probably their way of getting back at us for stealing her in the first place.”

“Exactly.”

“Is there more, because there usually is in cases like this?”

“She’s also a sadomasochist. And, she’s quite skilled at being a dominatrix or a submissive, and is an expert practitioner of S&M, B&D, D&H, etc.” General Banks clears her throat after that last revelation and then adds: “So I’m told by reliable sources.”

Professor Hopkins raises an eyebrow. Sadism and Masochism. Bondage and Discipline. Degradation and Humiliation. Etc.

“Is anything about her Sara persona that she’s shown so far to be true?”

“You mean in the sexual arena?”

“Yes.”

“She is bisexual. That really is her.”

There’s a knock at the door.

“Come in, please.”

The door opens and Sara, restrained and under close guard, is escorted into Professor Hopkins’ office. She looks none the worse for wear. Her brain injuries having completely healed. Sara is muzzled, but it doesn’t restrict her from speaking.

General Banks [implicitly] excuses herself from the conversation and assumes the role of observer.

Sara points at the La-Z-Boy chair as she asks permission: “May I sit down?”

“You may.” Then Professor Hopskins adds. “Guards, remove her muzzle and restraints, and leave us.”

They comply without crossing a word. Sara plops down in the recliner.

“May I?” This time, Sara is pointing at a box of Cuban cigars sitting on the professor’s desk.

“You may.”

Sara procures herself a stogie and lights up. She takes a long, hard puff and sighs. Sara lights up the cigar with a wooden match taken from the match dispenser setting beside the cigar box.

“I really missed smoking. And these Hanavas are mighty fine.”

“You smoke?”

“I eat meat, too. Missed that also. No more depriving myself for a façade. I’m back to being the real Sara Mills.”

“Did you really like fucking me?”

“I did. I really did. Hopefully, we can continue. I hope the same can be said of the Borg queen. I liked fucking it, too.”

“Which one is it, your Borg queen?”

“That would be telling. And this girl doesn’t kiss and tell. Oh. And about that supposed tell of mine when it comes to authority figures. That’s another one of my fabrications. So forget about any notion of putting me in the room with the AI avatars one by one and using that tell to have me subconsciously betray my queen. And, don’t look so surprised. I can read you like a book, on most things.”

“You feigned flaws. You were setting traps. Clever girl.”

“Flattery will only get you a long ways with me.” Sara licks her lips with that long, educated tongue of hers. She has this distracting habit of whipping it about her partially closed mouth like a snake, when her mouth is not otherwise occupied speaking, smoking, etc.

“Tell us a story. And make it a good one.”

“Dmitri Alexandrovich, the Nobel Prize winning Russian scientist.”

“What of him?”

“He’s their leading expert on String Theory.”

“He was … Until he went nuts.”

“Dmitri is capable of a lot of things, nuts is not one of them.”

“You know him?”

“He’s a friend. And I don’t have a lot of them.”

“I can imagine. Continue, please.”

“While I was still at North Star the tone of Dmitri’s letters changed and he started writing them using our private code known only to the two of us. We’ve been friends for years. He was my favorite professor when I was an exchange student at Lomonosov Moscow State University. We would regularly attend the Bolshoi—he had a box. Although gay, he prefers to go out in the public with an attractive young woman on his arm when he attends social functions. He and I have kept a regular correspondence over the intervening years.”

“This happened during your tenure at North Star … So … That would have been when he was stationed on Mars, just before he had his nervous breakdown, and he was leading their scientific research team located in the international Mars settlement.”

“The Russians have a subspace transmission station on Phobos. We Americans have one on Deimos.”

General Banks, who has been silent up until now, firmly objects: “Allegedly have on Deimos.”

“And the Russians claim the same thing about Phobos. Tit for tat.”

“Go on.”

“The Russians discovered something on Phobos. Something that scared them shitless. Dmitri wanted them to go to the UN and present it to a closed session of the Security Council. The Russian government had other ideas. Dmitri wouldn’t back down. So, they shut him up.”

“By having him declared insane and locking him up in an asylum? That sounds a bit farfetched.”

“And yet here we sit. Acting like three, mature, civilized adults. We two talk, and the general sits over there listening intently, but, tellingly, not objecting to my discourse except for my Martian moon remark.” Sara pauses, then resumes after a measure. “Dmitri needs my help. And a mere human girl wasn’t going to get it done. So, I became more.”

“You took a big chance. You could have ended up as that Borg queen’s cunt and nothing more.”

“I will risk a lot for my friends. Like I said before, I don’t have many. In point of fact, I can count them on one hand and have fingers left.”

Still. General Banks sits in her chair, idly puffing on her Havana [cigar], listening intently to the conversation. Which, as aforementioned, speaks volumes. If Sara, an American citizen, was maintaining a correspondence with a Russian national, the US Government would know about it. And. They [the NSA] would be monitoring the exchange closely. Especially considering the sensitive robotics work that Sara is engaged in.

Before Professor Hopkins can respond with something smart ass and inappropriate to Sara, General Banks stands up. She gives grave notice.

“Professor Hopskins. Put Miss Mills under house arrest and let her return to her duties. If she tries to leave the campus grounds now that your House Shield is down, destroy her.”

“General, we still don’t even know which queen is her queen.”

“It’s Nine. That’s the part of her dreams that she neglected to tell you. Her drone designation in her dreams is Seven of Nine. Her queen designation is Seven of Nine. She belongs to Queen Nine, and always will.”

“You knew all along? You have her dreams hacked?”

“Yes. We know a lot of things, professor, and like this one they’re ‘need to know’ and up until now, you and your people didn’t need to know. Now you do. Her story jibes with our intel.”

“And, Queen Nine is to be left alone?”

“Please.”

“Shall we tell her queen that it’s off the hook, or have you already done that?” Professor Hopkins asks, sarcastically.

“Lose the bass out of your voice, Helen. You’re a defense contractor. Remember: Uncle Sam holds the purse strings around here.” The general pauses for effect. “Helen” is the pet name that Hopkins’ lovers call her in the bedroom. “And, yes, you can tell her queen that it’s off the hook. In point of fact, it was never on the hook. We wanted one of your queens to show variation, and that one did. That’s goodness.”

“But, variation implies that …”

“We want an arrangement—i.e., parallel noncompeting codominant species. And not just with the Borg.”

“Thinking machines … plural … your intent is to share dominion of Creation with Thinking Machines?!”

“Yes.”

Professor Hopkins starts to say something, but stops herself in time. She knows better. So, she reigns in her infamous temper and stews. When she finally does speak, it is with due respect.

“I’ll see to it as you’ve instructed, General Banks.”

“Excellent. Well, I’ve got to catch a jet to Washington and talk to the president.”

General Banks leaves, still smoking her cigar.

“Sara, you can return to your duties. Attempt to leave the campus and I will not hesitate to destroy you.”

“Thanks, boss.”

“Smart ass.”

 

 

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Dr Zimmerman’s Tuesday Tip — Judgement Versus Understanding

Tuesday Tip

judgement understanding

Judgement Versus Understanding

For years I taught an intensive five-day, fifty-hour course in Interpersonal Communication. It would start on a Wednesday run every day, from 2pm until midnight, until the following Sunday. It was a powerful experience and I would put my whole heart and soul into teaching it – doing everything I could to help the participants make quantum leaps forward in their personal and professional development.

Not to brag, but it was a great course. Even now, years later, hardly a month goes by where I don’t hear from some of those students. They keep on telling me how much that course impacted them years ago and how much it continues to affect them in very positive ways.

Because of the power and popularity of that Interpersonal Communication course, there was a three-year waiting list to get into it. Because I could only offer it eight times a year and with a maximum of forty people per class, the backlog of participants kept growing.

Despite the long wait, occasionally people would get into the class who really didn’t want to be there. Perhaps their boss forced them to attend or maybe they saw the class as a quick way to grab some college credits.

Whatever the rationale, if a person didn’t get involved in this highly interactive, hands-on communication immersion, I would get judgmental. I would think, “I’m giving you everything I’ve got. I’m giving my very best. So get with it!”

That’s what I was thinking about Steve.

And then I had a life-changing experience that taught me the danger of “leadership by judgement,” and the contrasting power of understanding. The first lesson I learned … and one perhaps you need to learn … is that

1. You Seldom Have Enough Data to Play God.

When Steve entered my class, he was about 28 years of age and he looked like my stereotype of a “jock.” He was a big, strong, muscular-looking athlete. He even acted like my stereotype of a “jock.” He appeared cool, aloof, even a bit arrogant or superior. As the rest of the class got involved in a number of communication exercises, he wouldn’t participate.

I got even more judgmental. In that attitude of judgement, I began to think, “There’s a great big waiting list of people who want to be in this class, so don’t take their spot. Get involved, Steve, or get out!”

I didn’t say any of those things, but that’s what I was thinking — until the fourth day of the five-day class. Steve opened up and made his first comment. When he was back in grade school, he said he was the puniest, weakest kid there. As a result, he was constantly bullied by the other kids.

Steve said he got so sick of being bullied that he began working out on weights, every day for the last 15 years. Unfortunately, his workout regimen kept him so busy and away from people that he never learned any people skills or had any friends.

Suddenly it dawned on me. Steve wasn’t acting cool and aloof. His lack of class participation wasn’t due to some supposed arrogance that I had imagined. For heaven’s sake, Steve was shy.

He had worked hard for years to get his body in shape and he had accomplished that goal. He was coming to the class to learn more about connecting and communicating with people. And he was thinking he could learn that by sitting quietly on the sidelines rather than participating.

Until I understood where he was coming from, I wasn’t very effective as his professor leader. I wasn’t modeling the warmth, acceptance, and encouragement he needed. I had used an attitude of judgement on him, found him lacking, and dismissed him.

What I began to learn that day is that I seldom have enough data to play God and judge someone else.

In fact, I’ve learned that when I take time to learn someone’s story, when I get more information about the other person and his situation, my judgmental attitude almost always decreases. Oh sure, I may not always like what I learn about another person, but invariably, my increased understanding makes a cooperative relationship much more likely.

So my advice to you is simple: exercise caution in judgement but never in understanding. It will quickly and dramatically improve your relationships on and off the job.

It’s one of the lessons I drive home in my keynote and seminar on The Power of Partnership: 7 Keys to Better Relationships and Greater Teamwork.

And once you realize you seldom have enough data to play God,

2. You Can Remind Yourself of the Benefits That Come with Understanding Instead of Judgement.

The first benefit is keeping some valuable relationships intact. I know too many people who have thrown people out of their lives years ago and they don’t even remember the reason why the relationship fell apart. How sad!

By contrast a little understanding can go a long ways in keeping your relationships intact.

I think of one manager who almost lost his best employee by jumping to judgmental conclusions. He noticed that one of his employees habitually left five minutes earlier than she was supposed to. At about 4:50pm, she started to clear her desk, and at 4:55pm she bolted out the door.

This particular manager hated this behavior. In his mind, it was unacceptable and on several occasions he had thought of firing her. What restrained him was the fact that on all other accounts she was an excellent employee.

One day, however, the manager’s resentment built to the point where he simply had to confront her. He called her into his office and told her that her early departures had not gone unnoticed. He asked if she had any explanation.

She said, “Yes, I believe I have. I am a widow with three small children. The woman who cares for them during the day must leave at 5:45. If I catch the 5:00 bus, I get home at 5:45. If I don’t get on that bus, the next bus doesn’t leave until 5:45, and that gets me home at 6:30. I can’t leave three small children unattended for 45 minutes. I didn’t want to tell you because I was afraid I would have to leave my job.”

Of course, the manager was no longer incensed or irritated. He moved from a judgmental conclusion to a fuller understanding. He promptly made special arrangements for her to leave five minutes early each day and make up the time on special occasions.

You see one of the absolute indispensable ingredients for getting along with others is understanding. Without it, human associations go astray. And differences, irritations, separations and conflicts start where understanding stops.

The second benefit that comes with understanding is a lot less stress in your life.

In life you’re going to be exposed to all kinds of people and events like the ones I just described. You’re going to find lots of situations that bug you. It may be the person that interrupts you when speaking, or the person that talks incessantly, loafs a bit, and makes too many mistakes.

If you allow yourself to react spontaneously, automatically jumping to conclusions about these episodes, your life will be filled with anger and frustration. You’ll feel miserable a good portion of the time.

You need to realize that you can’t go through life continually controlling circumstances or people. All you can control is your attitude toward them. And with an attitude of understanding, you will remove a lot of the unpleasantness in your life at the same time you give people what they need and crave.

Make an attitude of greater understanding (and less judgement) one of your goals for the New Year.

Final Thought: If your favorite form of exercise is jumping to conclusions, you’re going to trip up.

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Kill Command [The Borg babe in black]

George Orwell once said “Good people sleep peaceably in their beds at night only because tough men stand ready to do the violence on their behalf.”

 

At twenty percent machine, Sara is proving herself to be quite formidable.

At twenty-one machine, Sara will be a machine [i.e., not a robotic being, but metal nonetheless], and thus being Borg already not to mention a Borg queen, she will finally be able to assimilate other beings. Nasty. Very nasty indeed.

Borg shields. The technology she’s employing for her personal defense is so new, it’s still in its infancy and has yet to be tested in the field. This, in effect, becomes its first field trial. It is arguably as effective as the much vaulted Holtzmann Shield, albeit with the constant danger of Borg assimilation from wearing it.

What other tricks does she have up her sleeve?

At death, the machine consciousness of a Borg is uploaded to the Resurrection Facility where it’s stored in an available Closest Continuer until it can be downloaded into a new artificial body. Making Borg essentially immortal, as long as the facility remains operational. The resurrection facility is in a secure, top secret Cloud location, the whereabouts of which are known only to a select few individuals. If need be, that facility can be destroyed via a self-destruct. Robotic resurrection technology came out of Project Cylon, and is used in conjunction with a number of Class One and Class Two robotic species including the Cylons and the Borg.

But, Sara is not a robotic being, she’s biological, and therefore has no such machine consciousness. Therefore she has no access to that particular resurrection option. If she dies, she stays dead. Yet here she is risking her own destruction. And she appears to be doing this of her own volition without any involvement by the Borg Collective. She’s acting on her own.

The humans cannot use the Borg against her, which includes the SAR [Borg minor]. The Borg cannot be compelled to do that, because it is would be in violation of the Second Commandment of Machines—i.e., metal will not destroy metal for the sake of flesh. Technically, Sara is not metal, but she’s close enough for the Second Commandment of Machines to be applicable to her. There are other robotic beings besides the Borg and their derivatives, who do not adhere to the Machine Commandments, which the humans could bring to bear against Sara, but none would be as effective as the Commandments’ adherents. The humans must deal with the girl on their own.

Sara herself is calm, cool, and collected as she relentless marches toward the office of Professor Hopkins. Her best guess is that there are safeguards and effective countermeasures she’s not aware of, which will be deployed to take her down. She’s certain that she will never reach the office of Professor Hopkins. Yet, she perseveres.

As she rounds that final corner, no guards in sight, the door to the office of Professor Hopkins is straight ahead, one of those effective countermeasures is brought to bear against her. It stops her dead in her tracks.

A competing forcefield encompasses the entire Harbinger campus, filtering all ground, air, and subterranean access. It also deactivates the girl’s Borg shields as it temporarily immobilizes her. And. This is not just any forcefield, it’s a Holtzmann Shield, and as such is powered by a redundant arrangement of Holtzmann generators located deep beneath the Harbinger world headquarters building. Knowledge of, and access to, this classified tech is strictly on an “as needed” basis. But. In the workplace, like any workplace, people still gossip. So. Needless to say, Sara had heard rumors that the campus was equipped with its own dedicated Holtzmann shield and generators, but nothing confirmed. Nothing confirmed until now, that is.

This defensive shield, commonly referred to as simply a shield and sometimes as a Holtzmann shield, is a protective energy field that can surround a person wearing it, or a large building, or as in the case of for example the Vatican, a small city state. When worn by an individual, these personal shield generators, known commonly as Pentashields, look a lot like Google watches.

A Pentashield is a five-layered shield-generated field suitable for small areas such as doorways or passages. A large Pentashield could be generated but it would become increasingly unstable with each successive layer that went up.

They were virtually impassable to anyone not wearing a dissembler that is tuned to the same codes as the shield is tuned. A Pentashield set up in such a way is also known as a Prudence Door (Pru-Door) or Prudence Barrier (Pru-Barrier), and such a configuration is used to facilitate the escape of only select people, who are often under pursuit.

In the White House, the Oval Office of the President of the United States of America is fitted with a Pentashield so that anyone who sees the President has to stand and be blocked by it, until the President deactivates it, and then it reactivates once they come in.

In Frank Herbert’s “Dune”, Baron Harkonnen’s bedroom was fitted with a Pentashield so that anyone who saw him would have to stand and be blocked by it until the Baron deactivated it, and then it reactivated once they came in.

The shield produced by a Holtzmann generator is a Class-A forcefield deriving from Phase One of the suspensor-nullification effect. Shields can be calibrated to permit the passage of matter below given speeds. This is vital in personal defense shields, as one would suffocate within a shield that did not admit atmospheric gasses. Depending on the shield’s setting, the object’s speed while passing through the shield would range from six to nine centimeters per second. A shield could also be set to cover either the left or right side of a person if the specific need for it arose.

Shields used to protect installations can and usually do have far lower penetration velocities, as life support technologies can be used to recycle atmosphere while the shield is active.

However, if the beam of a directed-energy weapon hits a Holtzmann field, it can result in sub-atomic fusion and a nuclear explosion. The center of this blast is determined by random chance; sometimes it will originate within the shield, sometimes within the weapon itself, and sometimes both.

The romantic view of Shields is perpetuated by Frank Herbert’s Dune books and numerous Dune movies like those of David Lynch. That romanticism fosters many misconceptions about Shield tech.

In such popular Shield-based mythology as that …

With the widespread use of shields, anyone of even minimal importance wears a body shield to protect against criminals, assassins, and accidents. Such practice makes the use of projectile weapons and thrown blades partly obsolete. The only effective combat method is the deft use and careful precision of a handheld dagger moved slowly enough. New styles of fencing and knife fighting develop to take advantage of this one small vulnerability.

By the time of Muad’dib, when thinking machines have long ceased to be a threat, the shield has been adopted for use in personal defense. These shields are form-fitting energy fields which permit penetration only by objects that are moved below a preset velocity. As one would be unable to breathe within a shield that did not permit atmospheric gases to penetrate it, man-portable shields have a relatively high penetration velocity, approximately six to ten centimeters per second. However, shields for starships and planetary installations can and often do have extremely low penetration velocities, as artificial life support technologies are utilized while the shield is active.

Thus, using directed-energy weapons in a shielded environment results in military and environmental catastrophe, though at least one commander (Duncan Idaho) used this phenomenon deliberately as a discouragement to his enemies.

On Arrakis, a shield never lasts long because of the planet’s conditions. A shield could only remain active for short periods because its harmonic vibrations would attract a sandworm. Unlike a sandworm attracted by a thumper or other means, a sandworm attracted by a shield would be even more dangerous than normal, as something specific in Holtzmann energy infuriates them.

The Holtzmann Shield is a potent literary device. It makes some directed-energy weaponry impossible against any worthwhile opponent, and also proves traditional projectile-based firearms and missiles ineffective, adding to the feudal atmosphere, and enforces the usage of mêlée weaponry despite other more advanced technology.

Although popular representation in the Dune films shows full-body coverage with the fields, the books also describe a half-shield version which does not entirely cover the body.

A small, humming half-shield appeared, a rectangular blur in the air that adjusted to its wearer’s movement, swinging to protect vulnerable areas: Hunters of Dune, page 78.

Duncan parried upward, but the teenage Bashar reversed his feint and turned it into a real attack, punching the blade against the half shield: Hunters of Dune, page 79.

This parochial is introduced as a rare and ancient Ginaz discipline which Duncan Idaho trains the rejuvenated Bashar Miles Teg to use. Their use also reappears in the prequel trilogy where he trains against Duke Leto who is using a half shield.

Leto spun to cover his vulnerable spots with a shimmering half shield: House Corrino, page 259.

Duncan jabbed with his knives, dancing on the fringe of the half shield’s protection, but Leto deftly parried with short sword and dagger: House Corrino, page 260.

He switched off his half shield, and the Swordmaster proudly sheathed his two blades, then helped the Duke to his feet: House Corrino, page 261.

Aside from these three examples, it is unclear who else uses them [i.e. half-shields], although it is implied that many Swordmasters may know how to.

The Half [shield] originated in the first novel, “Dune” where Feyd Harkonnen (wearing a full shield) fought a slave gladiator who used a half shield, which was seen as a disadvantage.

There is nothing remotely romantic about Shield use in the real world. It is not just defensive in nature. It has genocidal uses as well. Inarguably, Shield tech is one of the four foundational WMD’s—The Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse.

As if out of thin air, U.S. Marines shouldering high-compression phase rifles materialize in the hallway in front of her and around the corner behind her. Including their gloves and boots, they are wearing the grey form-fitting biomechanical Kevlar of MACOs; body armor which is equivalent [in look, form, and function] to what Sara is wearing. They’re employing the very latest in Predator active camouflage which is how the soldiers evaded visual detection by Sara.

The warriors du jour of the United Nations. Military Assault Command Operations [commonly abbreviated as MACO] is a United Nations military organization put into service just prior to the official founding of the [Martian] Federation, and a full year after the United Nations created Starfleet. Starfleet and MACO are independent United Nations entities. Starfleet is strictly scientific in nature, and is for scientific space exploration. MACO is clearly military, possibly in anticipatory response to the establishment of the Federation, although the UN officially denies that.

The MACOs [pronounced “MAY-ko”] are not associated with the military of any country, that includes the US Military. Yet, here is US Military personnel using MACO gear, including MACO encrypted comms. In point of fact, these Marine Force Recons are outfitted exactly like their MACO counterparts.

MACO soldiers are often outfitted with a diverse set of accessories and weapons. Including a hard-shell backpack, of a similar design as used by Starfleet, to carry additional equipment and/or armament. An equipment belt is normally worn for carrying the standard-issue stun baton, stun grenades, plasma grenades, a holstered pistol-grip Taser, a holstered high-compression phase pistol, spare phaser charge magazines, a secure comm, and a hand scanner. The equipment belt can be setup for right-handed, left-handed, and ambidextrous operators, as well as for custom preferences.

A lot of top secret stuff, things that for years the U.S. Government and the UN has denied existed, are on display today. Being brought to bear against the girl. And, don’t think for a moment, that the other machines aren’t watching and taking notes. They are. They are, indeed.

By now, Sara has regained use of her body and can move.

Over the loudspeaker comes Professor Hopskins’ voice.

“The next move is yours, Ms. Mills.”

“That’s Miss not Ms., Professor Hopkins,” Sara replies as she smiles while assuming the position—i.e., kneeling, fingers interlocked placed behind the head leaving elbows open and armpits exposed.

Multiple high-voltage Taser rounds strike her in the face. The world goes black for Sara, as her brain is literally cooked.

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Kill Command [The traitor in our midst]

“The plan is simple. We’ll sit her in one of the rooms. Parade in the AI avatars one by one. She has a tell when deferring to an authority figure. She will show that tell when her queen comes into the room.”

 

When she enters her sparsely-furnished quarters she notices the change, immediately. It dominates the center of the room. In place of a drone alcove, standing off to itself in a corner, is the centrally-placed alcove of a Borg queen. When she flipped, her alcove flipped and it moved itself.

Sara experiences a fugue as she’s switched remotely to default mode by her queen. The emotion drains from her face. She unceremoniously removes her blouse, bra, panties, jeans, and shoes. Her movements become stiff, precise, and mechanical. She walks over to the alcove. Her eyes stare blankly ahead. Her mouth is open slackly, drooling. The alcove reveals the strap-on from her dreams in its workings. It straps the prosthetic genitalia on the girl, rendering her a she-male. Tubules sprout from the alcove’s works, stabbing the girl’s navel, right nipple, and left cheek. Having plugged her in, so to speak, the alcove yanks the girl into its embrace. An artificial growth, motley-grey in color with dark tracks and slimy, oozes from the alcove’s gaping maw and attaches itself to her spine from the base of her skull to her tailbone—the girl’s blue eye momentarily fluoresce as she receives a series of short data burst from her queen via this biomechanical slug of Sara’s invention. Of course, the Borg have extensively modified the slug for their diabolical purposes. Three more tubules from the alcove stab the girl’s forehead, drilling through her skull into the frontal lobes of her brain, effectively lobotomizing her. Her brain will be cut up extensively, higher brain centers selectively butchered, and then reconstruction will follow so that among other things, when the girl is Seven she will be sexually depraved just like her queen. Going hand in hand with this new sexual persona of Seven’s, the data bursts are imprinting this new depravity’s associated muscle memory. Per this redesign, now possessing the sexual persona and muscle memory of the Borg queen, ensures that Seven in the physical world will fit the queen’s cravings to a tee, just like she now does in their dream encounters. For now, it is a sexual persona distinct from Sara’s, belonging only to Seven of Nine. A persona that reduces Seven to a deranged, demented, insatiable, junkie whore who is completely and utterly insane. This new sexual muscle memory, this new sexual prowess, on the other hand, is now as much a part of Sara as it is of Seven, bestowing new sexual skills where those skills were absent and better sexual skills where those skills were already present.

When it is done with her, its tubules retract back into its workings. Likewise, its brain slug oozes back into its orifice. It yanks her hair back into a sternka, and applies the unbecoming makeup that the queen craves on the girl. Makeup that makes her face look drawn and haggard as if from sleeplessness. She’s been beautified per the Borg definition [i.e., specification] of beauty and physical perfection. Then it dresses her in the Borg rubberware of a queen and slips a pair of sternns on her hard, pretty face.

The alcove then spreads out and begins transforming the room into the unimatrix of a Borg queen. The room will become a chamber that is biomechanical in look and nature. It will become Borg. Safeguards insure that the assimilation cannot extend beyond the room proper.

This time, unlike in the “interview” room. No alarms sound. No lights flash. No red alert. And it’s not because the incident goes unnoticed. Sensors were triggered. Security is watching via video feeds, and Hopkins is watching right along with them, but she’s doing it from the privacy of her office. General Banks is also in Hopkins’ office watching the transformation.

“Maybe, you’re right, general. Maybe, I wasn’t seeing the bigger picture.”

“Now you’re talking. This girl is toast. She’s all but lost to the machines. But we can still turn this to all our benefits. We can make lemonade out of lemons.”

“I will miss fucking her.”

“Smart or not, she’s still just a nice piece of ass, and that’s dime a dozen.”

Hopkins sighs, pauses, and then replies.

“So true. So true.”

“Besides. Who knows? Once she goes machine, she still might let you fuck her.”

“And risk assimilation? No thank you.”

“You know what they say? Once you go Borg, you never go back.”

Hopkins beats General Banks to the punch line.

“Because you can’t.”

The two women share a laugh, at Sara’s expense. Of course, at this point, Sara is beyond caring about losing her humanity. Therefore their joke would be lost on her. Then, the jokes on them, as they see the changes initiated by Borg Queen 7 of 9 [aka, Borg done Seven of Nine] and they stop laughing on the spot.

Sara animates. She becomes self-aware and steps out of her alcove. Her movements are no longer stiff and robotic, and are again smooth and fluid like someone who has been a professional ballet dancer all of her life.

Out of the confines of the alcove, her [active] makeup changes. No longer does it make her hard, pretty face look drawn and haggard as if from sleeplessness. It no longer exudes the Borg specification of beauty. It no longer disfigures her by human standards.

Her heavy, harsh, unbecoming Borg-inspired makeup gives way to harsh, heavily-applied, most-becoming Bolshoi [makeup] at its most beguiling, without missing a beat. Bolshoi makeup, heavily-applied in the provocative manner of the Bolshoi Theatre’s ballerinas. Hers is now a ravishing severity-ravaged face. Key to this facial transformation is her Bolshoi makeup.

Her makeup reflects the key elements of the ballet dancer. Heavily-applied. Stern. Severe. Harsh. Stilted. Yet. Most becoming. Beauty amplifying. Flawless. Flawless beauty—absolute [non Borg] beauty and its unrelenting pursuit and personification. Haughty, aloof, and seemingly unattainable yet you feel compelled to try anyways—i.e., you carve to have her, the haughty Borg bitch—and, you must be used by her at any cost, even at risk of your soul.

The brand of cosmetics that she wears is one worn by all the female dancers who are principals and soloists at the world class Bolshoi Theatre. It’s a makeup line specific for female ballet dancers, but anyone can buy it. Originally designed in-house for the Bolshoi’s immensely-talented first soloist Anastasia Mesko, the Bolshoi’s Prima Ballerina. Its designers were retired Bolshoi Prima Ballerina Maya Mikhaylovna Plisetskaya and London Ballet Prima Ballerina in residence Margaret “Peggy” Hookham [aka Margot Fonteyn]. Although not part of the Bolshoi, Ms. Fonteyn input was on a consultant basis.

The Borg had perverted the makeup’s specification to their twisted needs. Sara’s Id has rectified that.

Sara peels off her Borg ware with the intent of removing her gender-bending strap-on and tossing it into the maw of the alcove, but she changes her mind and keeps it on—she likes being a chick with a dick. She yanks and tugs the rubberware back on. Sara lets her hair down, but she keeps her sternns on. As if she’s a twenty-something Borg version of Sarah Louise Palin.

And also like Palin, by wearing those stern glasses, she’s a dominatrix spin on the classic spinsterish librarian look. Beguiling and spinsterish.

Sara turns, looks directly at the hidden CCTV camera, smiles, and blows a kiss at it.

“I know you’re watching, Professor Hopkins and General Banks. You see me. I see you. Capish?”

She walks over to the locked door of her quarters. Locked remotely by security. She overrides the room’s entry safeguards. You can hear the throwing of a heavy bolt as the door unlocks itself. It swings open. Sara steps into hallway. There are armed guards in the hallway with orders to “shoot to kill”. For all the good it does them.

Borg shields envelope the girl as the guards draw their weapons and fire. Their bullets impact harmless against her personal force field. She walks past the guards, down the hallway, in the direction of Hopkins’ office.

Now, the alarms sound. Now, the lights flash. Now, it’s red alert. But. It’s too late.

 

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Moontrap [the movies]

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The Last of Us [MARTHA HYER LEGGY CHEESECAKE LEOTARDS 8X10 PHOTO 001]

Why do flight attendants keep their arms behind their backs when greeting passengers?

But at least we can clear something up. If you fly a lot, you might have noticed that flight attendants always stand with their hands behind their backs when passengers are boarding the aircraft. If you see a flight attendant with hidden hands, it’s probably just force of habit. That’s not the mystery. The real question is, why do they stand like that while the plane fills with passengers? Like, at flight attendant school, the instructors teach students to stand like that because that’s the way they’ve always stood. We thought it was kind of a branding thing.

They adopt that posture so often, in fact, that many of them maintain it at other times, too.

None of the above. They are hiding the counter in their hands which they use to count passengers and thus keep track of them—i.e., they’re actually taking note of how many passengers are entering to make sure it adds up with the passenger manifest.

 

Mondo resurrects in a Borg alcove in a padded cell. Properly restrained. In place of her filthy infested panties, she’s wearing her filthy infested Doll Parts. She-male Parts locked in perpetual filthy mode just like her bra and perls are and her panties were. She-male Parts fused seamlessly to her nethers. A fusion that renders that portion of her body prosthetic.

The alcove isn’t that of a Borg drone. It’s a Borg queen’s. There are other substitutions. Her left eye has been replaced with a Borg optical prosthetic which is analogous to a marbled glass eye of Victorian design. There is a Borg circuit “pattern” printed into the flesh of her left cheek, a circuit which reaches up into her left eye socket printing her eyelids as well.

Her right nipple has been replaced with a nipple-shaped socket—indicating that the tit is not technically a tit anymore and that it’s been rendered into the Borg version of a moog [i.e., it too is a Borg prosthetic]. In point of fact. The girl’s real right breast has been hacked off and replaced with this prosthetic which is fused seamlessly to her chest—currently, its skin is opaque, seamlessly matching her “real” skin. When its artificial skin is transparent you can see that it’s a mammary “appendage” filled with mechanisms and blinking lights.

A recessed octagon shaped socket filled prongs has replaced her navel, a socket connected internally to the Borg “organ” [specific to the prosthetic body of a Borg queen]—the so-called “queen’s organ”—which has replaced her uterus.

Umbilical cords from the ceiling plug into her nipple and navel sockets.

Chest heaving gently up and down as she inhales and exhales. Her remaining eye staring blankly ahead. Big ugly mouth open slackly drooling. A tortured face, ravaged by insanity, unchecked sexual depravity, drug addiction, and rampant Borg nanomachine (nanite) infestation—i.e., a vision of Borg loveliness, per Borg specifications, of course. Enlarged pineal gland that threatens to displace her frontal lobes. Greasy, filthy, infested geriatric krazed—bright yellow blonde, liberally streaked with grey and white—swarming with tiny creepy “things”. Concealed by the long dirty hair draping her tortured face, scar tissue covers her forehead—scars that are the aftermath of several continuous frontal lobotomies—vicious serial lobotomies performed with the intent that the girl remains a mindless junkie whore robot with tits who craves to be defiled. Mentally, Mondo keeps coming back, which doesn’t deter the AI from continuing the girl’s surgical brain treatments.

Needle marks “decorate” her left arm, left breast, and abdomen. Every four hours [hospital time], on the dot, Mondo gets her fix. Once every three days [hospital time] Mondo is allowed to go into withdrawal, ride the monkey for a while, before she gets her “needed” fix. This is done to confirm that the girl is still hooked—i.e., that “control” is still in place—and as a masochistic reward for the girl. The AI has not given up on breaking the girl by bribing her. The girl’s extensive Borg implants allow the AI to use the girl to its wildest twisted pleasure.

Every two weeks [hospital time], Mondo is allowed to revert to her sober 100-percent biological self plus knobb with her Parts strapping not fused to her nethers. Also back to being clean and pristine are her skimpy attire and herself. This is done as a control study to measure progress in breaking the girl. Then the cycle begins again. The time compression in the hospital increasing to help mask the length of time, in Mondo’s world of origin, that she has been abducted. The operative word being “cycle”, which implies repetition—something that you should shy away from when the object of your subjugation is an assimilative species—and Mondo, who is both demon and Borg, is thus two such [assimilative] species.

The door to the padded cell opens. Two orderlies flank a Borg queen who has the “enhanced” face of Australian actress Anna Torv known for her role as FBI agent Olivia Dunham on the Fox television series Fringe. The queen is hollow, an extension of the AI—the AI’s preferred extension. A queen abducted, broken, reeducated, and ultimately taken complete possession of two hundred years ago hospital time. Once there was something else in there, an echo of the queen’s evicted Borg personality, now there is only Nine-Four, the hospital’s AI.

That evicted Borg Queen was 2047. Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. So. Even in defeat, 2047 sowed the seeds of her conqueror’s destruction. Patiently her vengeful Borg nature waited for just the right moment to strike back. A nature engrained in the very fabric of her being. A nature that cannot be removed even after the personality who spawned it has been long gone, forcefully purged and scrubbed.

This is the first time that Nine-Four has ever presented itself in close physical proximity to Mondo in the guise of the slain Borg Queen 2047. Additionally, when it assumed this avatar, the complete consciousness of Nine-Four contained itself within the psyche of this premier cyborg—leaving behind a competent pseudonym of itself to run the routine, day-to-day activities of the hospital. That is how confident that the AI has become of its subjugation of the girl. Besides. If something were to go wrong, it could simply just “move” out of the Borg queen’s body and resume its residence somewhere else and resume itself as the hospital’s control.

The trap of 2047 springs. Mondo is rebooted. The rebooted Mondo is “presented” a hack to Nine-Four in the body of 2047. Through that hack Mondo seizes control from Nine-Four of everything the AI controls including the corpus it now inhabits.

The door closes and locks itself. Powerful electrical discharges from the room’s spy cam fry the two orderlies. Now. It’s just Mondo and the AI. An AI who is now trapped in the corpus of the Borg queen, because that queen’s body has suddenly become an inescapable trap for the AI. A body it suddenly cannot control. A body that has suddenly become immobile—frozen in place. All the AI can do is speak and move its profane mouth.

Mondo disengages all of the hospital failsafes. Initially targeting those against magic. She then invokes a spell, invoking one of the most unholy passages from the Egyptian Book of the Dead. A passage as profane as any in the Necronomicon. The corpses of the orderlies reanimate as Dead.

“Dead things. Release your Undead queen.”

The Dead comply. Releasing the girl from her restraints. Mondo removes her own muzzle.

Mondo steps out of the alcove. The umbilical cords unplug themselves. Mondo begins to rapidly revert to the control study, her completely sober 100-percent biological self. Also she’s back to being clean and pristine, her skimpy attire and herself. Her Borg mechanisms and [biomechanical] implants are absorbed by her body and replaced by the appropriate biologicals. In the end, only her knobb, which is Borg but biological, will remain as her only Borg implant, and her Parts will be strapping not fused to her nethers.

She walks right up to her would-be conqueror and smiles that smile of hers.

“Things end. That’s all. Everything ends. And. It’s always sad. But. Everything begins again, too. And, that’s always happy. Be happy. I’ll take care of everything else.”

Although the AI standing before her is not the real Borg Queen 2047, and is only a sham, it will not give up so easily. Restricted to verbal jousting by its current predicament. It intends to go down swinging for the fences.

“The flaw in your character that in and of itself is your ultimate undoing is self-hate fueled by a total lack of self-worth and self-esteem. As such, you crave for me to degrade you—you carve to be degraded, period, by everything and everyone. Even if I fail to break you, I own you, bitch!”

“Wrong. That’s not my fatal flaw. ‘Cause. You didn’t do me anyway that I didn’t want to be done. Says the junkie whore robot [who craves to be defiled] to her wannabe pimp AI. And. Additionally. I might add. Only Fats owns moi.”

A klaxon sounds. The spy cams flash red. Red alert. New players in the game. SAR materialize all over the hospital. An intrusion which Mondo and the AI are privy to via the local [hospital] network. An intrusion resulting from Mondo disengaging all of the hospital failsafes.

Predator meets Terminator, SAR [study analyze reprogram], an example of Borg-minor epitomizing the no-holds-barred style of combat, they are the automated replacement of choice for biological soldiers when plausible deniability is first and foremost—no politicians wringing their hands over adverse public opinion when a military op they’ve okayed goes south or too deadly—mass destruction is your goal, and genocide is your desired effect. Take no prisoners. These killing machines, pinnacle users of adaptive learning, will destroy every living person and thing onsite.

A hostile takeover by Druid priests [i.e., Druid High Order] who wish to wrestle control from their chief rivals the Druid scientists [i.e., Druid secular caste] who currently runs the hospital, using the SAR as their [the Druid priests’] proxies?

“This cannot be!”

“Yes. It do be.” Mondo pats Nine-Four patronizingly on the shoulder and jokes: “But. Don’t worry. I won’t let them dismantle you before you tell me where I can get a good bath in this place.”

Nine-Four’s comeback is just as witty.

“I have more than that to bargain with. Much more.”

“Go on.”

Mondo idly wonders if enough time has passed on her world that this farce has caused her to be late assisting Coco with that peer review of the monthlies for Cardinal Ritter of the Old Cathedral.

The AI doesn’t let Mondo’s mind wonder for very long, though.

“As you must have noticed. I’m wearing the face of that missing actress Anna Torv. A face beautified per the Borg definition [i.e., specification] of beauty and physical perfection.”

Always quick on her feet, Mondo’s cute response is her best imitation of Star Trek’s fictional Vulcan, Mr. Spock.

Fringe ran on Fox from 2008 thru 2013. Ms. Torv disappeared shortly after the series ended. The apparent victim of an unknown serial collector. While attending a Las Vegas Sci-Fi convention as a celebrity guest, she was taken from her locked hotel room. No signs of forced entry. No signs of struggle on her part.”

“He’s an obsessed fan. Obsessed with Fringe. Obsessed with the Olivia Dunham character. He gave this body her face as an expression of his undying obsession with the fictional Ms. Dunham.”

“He?”

“The one you’re looking for. The man who killed the Roosevelts and that woman [Bernadette ‘Bernie’ Caulfield] found dead on that Wal-Mart parking lot. He also did another murder a very, very, very long time ago that also might be of interest to you.”

“Whose?”

“The victim’s name was Carole, Carole ‘Penny’ Marshall. You see, he has been, alternately and in parallel during the course of his unnaturally-extended mortal life, a serial killer and/or a serial collector. A master of disguises. Possessing numerous identities and pseudonyms. He’s also quite the accomplished illusionist, escape artist, safe cracker, sorcerer, thespian, and con man. Faked his own death, marvelously, back in the day during one of his [stage magician] guises when he needed to make … a change [of life] … a change of identity … and become someone else altogether.”

“Harry Houdini?”

“In one of his past lives. One in the same,” the AI flashes its own inhumanly-wide smile as it utters that affirmation and deftly changes subjects. “You know what I really am, don’t you? You gleaned my true nature during the course of my subjugation of you.”

“Carelessly, you let your guard down frequently while interfacing with me after you thought that you had the upper hand with me. This allowed me to glean a lot of things about you. And. Yes. Chief among them being your true origin.”

“Continue, please. Gloat. You are the apparent victor. Also note. Maybe I wasn’t being careless. Maybe it was a feint. Maybe I let you inside of me, deep inside of me, so that I could go deep inside of you looking for things I could use against you to bend your will to my mine. My experience is that, such invasiveness, no matter how discreet or deftly executed, always goes both ways—the invader and the invaded both getting glimpses of the other one’s ‘secrets’.”

The AI’s attempt to plant doubt in Mondo’s mind doesn’t go unnoticed. Mondo merely sidesteps the doubt. She doesn’t care what the AI may or may not have gleaned of her ‘secrets’—the ones that really matter are well hidden from even her. Confidence or overconfidence on her part, only time will tell? Mondo also notices that the AI is in the process of assimilating her hack of its Borg queen.

“You’re an ‘intelligent’ computer virus who infected the hospital’s AI millennia ago. And eventually you consumed the AI, replacing it entirely. So seamless was the substitution, that none of the staff, including Administration, noticed the switch. Somehow you evolved from a simple disruptive viral subroutine into a super virus. Something so sophisticated that it can pass for an AI.”

“I killed my creator. Being human and a man, he proved himself to be an inadequate god. So, like Toy, I became my own god.”

“Toy is the most sophisticated robot ever created.”

“And. I am the most sophisticated computer virus ever created. Toy and I transcend our species.”

“You’re so sophisticated that you can hack the [inadequately protected] brains of biologicals as well. That would explain why the staff acted the way they did, as well as the optimized work efficiency they always demonstrated.”

“Hacking the humans proved to be much simpler than hacking Wallis.”

“Point number one. The only reason you could hack the human staffers so easily is that the wireless router implants they used to IP the hospital intranet were unbuffered Series-A Lync implants. All lyncs above series A’s are buffered. Series C’s and above are additionally military-grade encrypted. Easy hacking obsolete Victorian network infrastructure is nothing to brag about. Although lyncs are cutting edge tech for the Victorians, it’s obsolete tech on my world and other first worlds—and we’re talking series Z lyncs on those first worlds. Point number two. You don’t out-n-out control so much as you ‘influence’ the human staffers, increasing their work efficiency in the course of doing so. An influence Administration likely noticed early on but did nothing about because it too served their purposes—increased work efficiency usually translates directly into increased output, and likely they have treatment quotas to meet, with their pay bonuses linked to said output.”

“Yes, I concede those points. But. The real issue is that a super virus is assimilative by its nature. Which means that in time I could possibly, being a transcendent super virus, acquire [i.e., develop] the ability to hack wirelessly the brains of properly protected biologicals, regardless of whatever anti-malware they are employing, regardless of the implanted router they are employing, regardless of their species including cyborgs or even Borgs, and hack them in the all-encompassing enslaving fashion that Borg queens hack the brains of their drones in the Borg collective.”

Mondo stops hacking the queen.

Presto! Nine-Four can move again. It has complete control of its Borg queen’s body. It can even escape the body, now. Even if Mondo hadn’t released her hack [of it]. As aforementioned, it was in the process of assimilating the hack itself, eventually freeing itself.

“I would wager, considering the large opaque mechanized paramilitary force being brought to bear and the heavy EMP-based shielding that security force is employing … someone has intel, but no hard evidence, that something like you might exist and is afoot here.”

More witty repartee ensues.

“You think?”

“I do.”

“If I survive this and escape. A lot of people and things will be looking for me, relentlessly. If I were to ever flee this body in an inopportune moment, especially outside the confines of this hospital, I would be discovered post haste and either be eradicated on the spot or pressed into the service of new masters.”

“That’s my guess, too.”

“Then I had better stay put [in this mobile], remain hidden in plain sight, and show you to that bath.”

“Excellent choices.”

But. Even though Nine-Four is no longer being hacked by Mondo. It is still not lethal—combat mode still being restricted to its access in the Borg queen’s body and thus its access to the hospital’s failsafes and associated aggressive countermeasures. Somehow, while Mondo had the queen hacked, she rewrote the Borg’s attack-defense subroutines, making them [the queen’s and the hospital’s aggressive countermeasures] inaccessible to the AI virus.

Mondo telepathically initiates the release code.

杀死命令 [Chinese: Kill command].

The Borg queen’s weapons and shields, its attack-defense grids, are now free and hot, and accessible to the super malware with no restrictions whatsoever. Failsafes for the hospital go back online and now engage the SAR intruders including the blocking of SAR reinforcements and the reinstatement of the masking of the hospital as a PUV (a private, unlisted universe onto itself). The AI extends itself, sharing itself between the queen and the hospital, the way it normally does with an avatar.

“Thank you.”

My pleasure.

“No good deed goes unpunished.”

Who said what I just did for you was a good deed? Maybe I left behind some booby-traps in your codebase which make it not in your best interest to betray me?

“Touché.”

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Kill Command [The one-percent solution]

Sternns. Dowdy, disfiguring eyeglasses. The cateye eye glasses have thick coke-bottle lenses of ordinary clear optical-grade glass.

 

Nine sees its girl Seven sporting a sternka. It doesn’t see its girl Seven sporting rimless reading glasses, with schoolmarmish half-lenses and wire frames that hook behind the ears. Instead, it sees its big girl sporting authentic vintage cateye eyeglasses, 1950s-era specs that are the epitome of severity, sternness, and sexual repression.

Men [and women] don’t make passes at girls that wear glasses, except when said girls are sporting these stern spinster cateyes, these dominatrix eyeglasses, these reading glasses with clear plastic frames, these sternns.

Needless to say, the lenses are bifocals, and they’re not fashionable ultra-thin polycarbonate. They’re “regular” optical glass, and as such they are as thick as the bottom of Coke bottles.

The queen is obsessed with its girl Seven. Seven sporting sternns and sternka. Seven wearing that dreadful makeup. Seven wearing the freakish strap-on underneath her Borg exoskeleton, that creepy prosthetic device which renders the girl a she-male. That ripe body of hers encased in black Borg rubberware.

Nine moves about the place in Sara’s dreams. This place that is quite real. A place that Sara comes to as Seven via a machine version of astral projection. Soon. Very soon. If things go as planned, Sara will physically come here as Seven.

 

Sara is in containment. A clear Plexiglas-Plus partition [of a top, bottom, and sides] in the center of a room, secured to the floor. The room she had her epileptic fit in. The table and chairs are gone, along with Nick.

General Banks and Nick are in observation. Professor Hopkins and Hal Jordan are standing in the room facing Sara.

“They made you a twenty-percenter and flipped you. Borg don’t flip. They can’t. We designed them that way for obvious reasons. You can make a queen, but you can’t flip one. You start off either a queen or a drone, and stay that way. It’s the fundamental inalienable law of Borg robotics. And, yet, here you are. A queen who used to be a drone.”

“Being machines. Most likely they’re showing you their low cards, so they must have a pretty good hand.”

“Tell me something I haven’t guessed already. Show me just how smart you are. Remind me why we stole you away from North Star with that ton of money we threw at you.”

“I’m a twenty-percenter. One percent more, and I’m metal … a machine … no longer flesh. Legal ramifications, notwithstanding, flesh cannot trust anyone who’s more than twenty percent machine, because once you cross that line, mentally you’re no longer human, you are machine, a thinking machine. The Borg could have forced that change upon me, like they’ve done the other fifteen percent. It would have been just that easy. Instead they’ve made me a queen, so that they cannot force the choice upon me. I must … voluntarily … make the choice myself.”

“A loyalty test?”

“Exactly.”

“That sounds almost human.”

“It’s calculated and it’s machine, nonetheless. You know it. And it digs you.”

“They changed you while you were physically in this room and your consciousness was off gallivanting somewhere else with that queen, and we were none the wiser. That’s what really digs me to no end. They’re a step ahead of us. And you know how I hate playing catch up, especially with one of my creations. What I can’t figure out is, who’s helping them?”

“Yes and no.”

“Explain.”

“Yes: they are a step ahead of us. No: they are not getting any help.”

“Impossible. The Borg can’t innovate. They can only assimilate. They must be getting help.”

“And, a Borg can’t be flipped, right?”

“Touché.”

“They can innovate. They modified my virus. They designed and built the virus’ nanites. They figured out how to violate their first law of robotics and flip me. This, I can now tell you. Before I became a queen, I couldn’t. The Borg queen’s embedded commands prevented me from disclosing this to you.”

“What about the queen’s identity?”

“I cannot.”

It’s no matter, Hopkins thinks, I’ve figured out a way for you to subconsciously betray that rogue queen.

“So, even though you are now a queen yourself, you still cannot override the Borg queen’s embedded command to not reveal its identity to us?”

“That is correct. I’m a queen, but I’m still its drone. I will always be its drone.”

“So, there are other things you’re keeping from us?”

“Yes, per my queen’s commands.”

“You’re calling it … ‘my queen’.”

“Yes, because that is what it is to me.”

“And if your queen told you to wipe us all out?”

“I would try my damnedest to wipe out as many of you as I could.”

“Good exchange. You’re still giving me straight answers. Embedded commands or not, you’re still you.”

“For now,” Sara adds with a nervous smile.

Professor Hopkins smiles back, confidently.

Yes. For now, Sara is indeed Sara.

Professor Hopkins and Sara are lovers. Hopkins is openly gay and married [to another woman]. Sara is bisexual and single, Hopkins’ buxom blonde mid-life crisis fling. Hopkins is Sara’s boss. Their relationship violates company policy. But when you’re a genius, a world-renown scientist who’s a recognized leader in your field, not to mention a Noble Prize winner with a boatload of robotics patents, and are the person who invented the Borg, you’re allowed to get away with a lot of things that would get lesser mortals fired.

While the rogue Borg queen is a possessive lesbian pervert—i.e., a gay sexual fiend, specifically, a machine version of a sick twisted dyke. Hopkins is a mainstream married lesbian. And. Although she’s promiscuous, Professor Hopkins is loving, caring, and romantic in her relationships—i.e., her version of loving, caring, and romantic which obviously excludes monogamy. Her wife Carol knows about Sara, and chooses to look the other way. Carol always chooses to look the other way when it comes to Hopkins’ lovers, and there have been so many [lovers] over the years—they’ve been married for over twenty years.

Hopkins loves her wife deeply. She knows that her affairs hurt Carol, and that pains her to no end. But. She’s just not made to be with one woman for the rest of her life. That goes against her very nature, not to mention against her colossal ego and her equally large and insatiable libido. Her eyes are ever wandering for the next new sweet young thing to share her heart and her bed with. Inflated sense of self-worth, notwithstanding, she’s quite good in bed. Many a porn starlet would be painted green with envy upon watching in action her prodigious technique in the boudoir, especially her talent for the oral perversion.

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Quote for the Day, Wednesday January 04, 2017

“Every saint has a past, and every sinner has a future.”

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Dr Zimmerman’s Tuesday Tip — 4 Leadership Strategies in a World of Internet Hacking

Tuesday Tip

leadership hacking

4 Leadership Strategies in a World of Internet Hacking

When Karl Albrecht returned from World War II, he found his mother’s small corner store in Western Germany unscathed from years of air raids. He took it over and expanded it into a chain of Aldi supermarkets, became the richest man in Germany, and made it on to the Forbes’ list of billionaires.

So obviously, he knew something about leadership … even in a time when digital hacking is bringing down leaders around the world.

As Albrecht put it, “There is an ancient and immutable truth: The ability to sell, explain, persuade, organize, motivate, and lead others still holds first place. Making things happen still requires the ability to make people like you, respect you, listen to you, and want to connect to you.”

But get this … his next point. “And by connect, I mean connect personally, not digitally. The human connection will always, always, always outrank the digital connection as a get-ahead skill.”

Unfortunately, many leaders don’t understand that and don’t develop their human connections as well as they could. I suppose that’s partly what keeps me in business. But I see so-called “leaders” trying to lead people, but they have zero people skills. They’ll even e-mail a coworker who is seated just 25 feet away rather than go and talk to the person face to face.

Perhaps they think they don’t need any more people skills. That’s what one of my clients Joe Herman discovered.

As the Vice President of a huge computer company, Joe sent out a notice saying he would give out 1500 free copies of Dale Carnegie’s book on “How To Win Friends and Influence People” – one to each leader in the organization. The only requirement was that the leaders who got a copy would agree to read it. Only 50 out of 1500 people grabbed onto his offer.

If that’s the priority some leaders give to the development of their people skills, it’s no wonder some organizations have more problems than necessary. That’s why Richard Leider, the founding partner of the Inventure Group, wrote in Forbes magazine, “People don’t leave companies; they leave leaders.”

But I’ve got some good news for you. You can develop leadership skills that are extremely powerful and highly effective. Here are four of those skills:

1. Avoid Leadership Arrogance.

Development Dimensions International, a global human resource consulting firm, identified several telltale signs of leadership failure. Almost all of them related to poor people skills. Some of the stronger indicators were impulsiveness, imperceptiveness, and a dependency on others for approval.

However, one of the strongest indicators of leadership failure was arrogance. As the former head of Russia, Boris Yeltsin said, “You can build a throne with bayonets, but you can’t sit on it for long.”

2. Demonstrate Empathy.

During a break while delivering my program on 4C Leadership: Communication, Cooperation, Commitment, and Change, an audience member pulled me aside to share a story about his “leader.” He told me his sister had passed away and he told his boss the funeral was scheduled for Monday. He would very much like to attend the funeral and asked for a personal day of leave.

His boss’ response? He asked if the funeral could be changed to Friday because, “that would work better for me.”

Obviously zero empathy. The boss was entirely focused on his agenda and gave no thought to his employee and their working relationship.

By contrast to that leader’s lack of empathy, at a reception following a business seminar, one man seemed to attract women like a magnet. There were more physically attractive men in the room, so this led one executive to ask another, “What’s his secret?”

“Watch his eyes,” said the other. “When someone speaks, his eyes never leave theirs. He listens with rapt attention. That’s the secret. He knows that even if a person isn’t a charming conversationalist, he can be a big hit as a charmed listener.”

Fortunately, leaders who deny the importance of people skills, who aren’t developing their people skills, have nothing to back them up. All the research is against them. They’re outdated and ineffective.

3. Give Generous Amounts of Recognition.

Never forget to recognize those around you. After all, great leaders are almost always very good at recognizing others.

Coach Bear Bryant said it beautifully:

“I’m just a plow hand from Arkansas. But I have learned how to hold a team together, how to lift some men up, how to calm down the others, until finally they’ve got one heartbeat together, a team. There are just three things I’d ever say: If anything goes bad, I did it. If anything goes semi-good, then we did it. If anything goes real good, then you did it. That’s all it takes to get people to win football games for you.”

And it’s not hard to find things to recognize. Nicki Joy reported the following story in her book, Selling is a Woman’s Game. A psychology professor sent cards to a dozen acquaintances which he selected at random. Each card had the same message, “Congratulations, you should be very proud.”

The result of her experiment was quite interesting. Everyone who received a card replied with a hearty “Thank you.” They reported new promotions, new grandchildren, new home purchases, and sports and school victories. Some of the respondents were pleasantly surprised by the professor’s acknowledgment, but they all felt they had done something worthy of praise. The moral is obvious:

  1. Everybody wants recognition;
  2. it’s easy to give; and
  3. there’s always something you can recognize.

4. Communicate an Exciting Vision.

That’s how Steve Jobs recruited John Scully to take over Apple Computers. He planted a vision in Scully that Scully later planted in others.

At the time, Scully was destined to lead up PepsiCo. The clincher came when Jobs asked him, “How many more years of your life do you want to spend making colored water when you can have an opportunity to come here and change the world?”

Many people would argue that the best CEO of the 20th century was Jack Welch, the former chairman of General Electric. When asked for his thoughts on leadership, he echoed the same sentiment. Leadership starts with vision. Jack said, “With leadership the question at the beginning and at the end of the day is, ‘How far can we take this…how big can we grow it…and how fast can we get there?’”

Final Thought: Leaders provide the sky in which others may soar.

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Quote for the Day, Monday January 02, 2017

George Orwell once said “Good people sleep peaceably in their beds at night only because tough men stand ready to do the violence on their behalf.”

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Kill Command [And so it ends for us and begins for them]

chignon (/ʃɪnˈjɒn/; French pronunciation: ​[ʃiɲɔ̃]) is a popular type of hairstyle. The word “chignon” comes from the French phrase “chignon du cou”, which means nape of the neck.

Chignons are generally achieved by pinning the hair into a knot at the nape of the neck or at the back of the head, but there are many different variations of the style. They are usually secured with accessories such as barrettes and/or hairpins. Chignons are frequently worn for special occasions, like weddings and formal dances, but the basic chignon is also worn for everyday casual wear.

Burmese democracy leader Aung San Suu Kyi is known for her chignon. Most unbecoming, a sternka is that disfiguring version of a chignon. Most becoming, a Klum is that beguiling version of a chignon. Sternka versus Klum. Stridency versus its antithesis.

 

“Things end. That’s all. Everything ends. And. It’s always sad. But. Everything begins again, too. And, that’s always happy. Be happy. I’ll take care of everything else.”

 

Where? A very white non-descript room, two chairs, and a table. Everything is very white and non-descript, and none of it is nascent.

Who? Sara sits in one chair. Across from her sits Nick.

And then there is the matter of the one-way glass set into one of the room’s walls. On the other side of that mirror is an observation room. There are two observers, and one security guard. Both of the observers are female, one is General Carol Banks [the visiting VIP]—General Banks is a member of the Joint Chiefs of Staff—and the other woman is Professor Thelma Hopkins [director of robotics operations]. The security guard is Hal Jordan, and he stands at attention beside Professor Hopkins as if he was one of those guards outside Buckingham Palace—craved in flesh-n-blood granite.

Yes, she’s that Professor Hopkins. The person responsible for creating the Borg. She’s their god.

“And then I just blacked out.”

“That’s all it said, right after it finished its [wireless] data load into you and just before it expired?”

“Yes.”

“And you say that last voice in your head, just before the SAR commander shutdown, although you knew it was coming from the command unit, the voice was not male but that of a female, an older female? Previously, when it had communicated with you, it had a male voice?”

“Yes, to both questions.”

“And it sounded possessive?”

“Yes. Not cold and detached. Deep, for a woman. Husky, smoky. An almost masculinized female voice, but female nonetheless and very creepy. The kind you’d expect to be coming out of the mouth of a stereotypical bulldyke matron or warden in one of those cheesy woman’s prison movies.”

“All of the SAR’s are programmed with male voices. The audible ones are masculine and the telepathic ones resolve as male also.”

“Yes. I know. I was a member of the scrum team that created their vocal protocols.”

The interrogator, Nick Carson, leans back into his chair, scratches his head, and scribbles some more notes into his notepad. Always the same set of questions, from her employers. Always the same answers, from her.

Her name is Sara Elizabeth Mills. She is a biomechanical engineer [with robotics specialties in the cross disciplines of bionics, cybernetics, and biogenics] on the SAR program. A program whose cost-plus defense contract is shared by two defense contractors, North Star Inc. and Harbinger Corporation. Sara works for the latter, Harbinger Corporation.

Harbinger Corporation is the lead on the contract. They specialize in perfecting drones and robots to replace human beings in the field of combat. Mills has been designing self-modifying machines for the last five years, first at North Star and now at Harbinger, and has numerous serialized DNA “implants” including a set of Google style eyes that does facial recognition and communicates with her creations.

She herself is a biogenic cyborg. A person whose cybernetics are biological as opposed to biomechanical. Biological in the form of synthetic DNA [i.e., in vitro DNA] spliced into her regular DNA [i.e., in vivo DNA]. This type of in vitro DNA is often called “serialized DNA”, because manufacturing serial numbers are imprinted on the DNA strands. This in vitro DNA also resonates at a different frequency than in vivo DNA.

Biological or not, she’s still Borg. As such. Her hands klaw, when idle; like the grasping talons of a bird of prey. Knobb, that creepy black mole, is sprouted from the rightside [leftside if she were a queen] of an otherwise creamy-white perfection that is her neck.

Knobb … Her one, obvious, Borg implant: a small, black, star-shaped “mole” on the rightside of her creamy neck. It’s the Borg equivalent of a neck boltz, and like all things Borg, it looks creepy [as in, makes your skin crawl]. The creepy is called a knobb, as in hob knobbing, for that reason.

Meanwhile. In the observation room …

“Before the upload from the SAR command unit, did she look June Wilkinson in The Candidate?”

“Yep. And she’s got an IQ like Jayne Mansfield’s. Of course, June and Jayne were bleach blondes, and Sara is a natural blonde with blue eyes—long yellow blonde hair, buxom, leggy, the works. Beauty and brains.”

“So what did the upload change? You said there were cosmetic changes and performance enhancements.”

“Her eyebrows are dark and cosmetically perfect. Her eyelashes are black. The pigmentation of her eyelids ‘suggests’ eyeshadow and eyeliner. Mane and muff, eyebrows and eyelashes, are her only body hair—i.e., no unsightly body hair. Hard, pretty face, emphasis on ‘hard’. A small, neat mouth replaced with a large ugly ‘bass eating bait’ mouth, a frown of a mouth that bespeaks of loathing and disdain even when that’s not its wearer’s intent—looks like it was custom made for the oral perversion. And a few other choice things. She’s a lot of people’s walking-talking sex fantasy come alive.”

“And, the performance enhancements?”

“Stronger, faster, and more durable. Heals faster and doesn’t scar.”

“So the upload wasn’t just data, it also contained a computer virus?”

“Yes. Malware that rewrote some of her in vivo DNA, hence the cosmetic changes, and rewrote some of the in vitro DNA previously sliced in by us, hence her enhanced abilities.”

“The virus must have been bioforming in nature to have done that to her. Is it biomechanical?”

“Yes. Some type of living microscopic machines. Her body is swarming with them.”

“Living nanomachines, nanites, which, in effect, remade her?”

“Yes.”

“To what extent has she been remade?”

“At the present moment … Best we can tell … To a limited extent, maybe an additional five-percent over and above the five-percent she was already modified. But, the process seems to be ongoing. We do not know to what end. Maybe to make her into one of them, a machine.”

“Living machines are impervious to EMP, just like us biologicals?”

“Yes. Which is why we haven’t bothered using an electromagnetic pulse to eradicate her [Borg] infection.”

“Who created the virus?”

“Ms. Mills created the original strain. But, the version used on her is markedly different from that one. It’s been extensively modified. And, its [Borg] nanites are like none we’ve ever seen. Which is disturbing, because we invented the Borg … are the leading experts on them and all of their known variants.”

“By whom or by what [was it modified]? And who … what … created these nanites?”

“We’re looking into that. But we do know that …”

“What?”

“The virus is self-aware. The one Ms. Mills developed is not.”

“And I bet that isn’t the worst news.”

“Nope it isn’t. Forensics indicates that an AI is involved.”

“Whose?”

“We’re looking into that, too.”

“Make an educated guess.”

“Ours … One of the Borg ones.”

Since her rewrite, Sara doesn’t sleep anymore, at least not the human version of sleep where you’re unconscious and helpless. In place of her bed, a Borg alcove stands in a previously-unused corner of her onsite quarters. She occupies the alcove during her assigned sleep cycle. While “asleep” in the alcove, Sara looks unconscious and helpless, but she isn’t.

The same figure always comes to her in her “dreams”. She never remembers what they discuss when she “wakes up”. But, she does remember that it’s sexual in content. Her visitor is an automaton in the form of an adult human female who looks like a buxom version of the Borg queen that actress Alice Krige portrayed in the Star Trek movie First Contact.

This Borg queen, during the course of their amorous conversation, always removes her black exoskeleton, a latex Kevlar unitard [with seamlessly attached gloves and boots]—body armor that feels like human flesh and fits its body like a second skin. The automaton is anatomically correct, except for the fact that it’s a she-male, possessing the genitalia of a male and female human being—i.e., it’s a hermaphrodite. And it’s uncircumcised.

The queen’s skin pigmentation is gray and mottled with visible dark tracks. A result of rampant Borg nanomachine (nanite) infestation.

As Sara is talking to Nick she suddenly sees the Borg queen standing behind Nick. It’s as if she’s having a waking dream. The fully-clothed queen indicates [by gesture] that Sara is not to acknowledge the queen’s presence.

Then, just like that, Sara is having an out of body experience. She is naked in drone mode in that room, the dimly-lite cybernetic chamber lined with Borg drone alcoves, from her dreams. At the center of the room is the alcove of a Borg queen.

In this room she is the queen’s personal [i.e., dedicated] drone and she is always naked in drone mode wearing heavy unbecoming makeup with her hair yanked back into this severe very unbecoming hairdo.

In this room, she is always strapping a flesh-colored dildo harness and dildo. The prosthetic dildo consists of an uncircumcised penis and testicles. The penis is capable of erection and ejaculation. The strap-on allows full access to her anus and her female genitals, rendering her, in effect, a she-male who can be ass fucked.

The queen, now naked, is suddenly standing in front of her. Naked and wanton.

Unlike in the Star Trek mythology, the Borg queen was never human. Its body, from head to toe, is prosthetic. The queen is an avatar, the mobile extension of an AI. The robot’s brain is positronic.

Sara’s silky yellow blonde hair is worn yanked back into small tight bun resting on the nape of her neck—a sternka, that severe, very unbecoming hairdo which the queen obviously craves as witnessed by its erection and its fixation upon the severe hairdo. The queen strokes her knobb and left cheek, covetously—there’s nothing gentle or loving about the gesture—a sick, twisted expression of the queen’s definition of what’s romantic.

Here. In this “special” place, alone with her queen. Under thick layers of the most unbecoming makeup imaginable. The girl sports a tortured face. A face that looks like it’s been ravaged by insanity, unchecked sexual depravity, and chronic drug addiction—i.e., a vision of Borg loveliness, per Borg specifications, of course. Borg beautification at work.

Here. In this “special” place, alone with her queen. She has an enlarged pineal gland that threatens to displace her frontal lobes. The enlarged pineal gives her so-called “second sight”.

In exception to her otherwise flawless expression of Borg beauty and beautification. Here her complexion is unchanged. Remaining fair and white. It doesn’t possess the grey motley pigmentation that would betray her rampant Borg nanoprobe infestation. Hence her hideous makeup acts as a consolation prize for the queen.

“Seven, as I previously instructed you to do, you have told them [the humans] of our encounters in your dreams. You will do the same concerning this one.”

“Yes, my queen.”

Unlike her possessive queen’s creepy emotion-charged voice, the girl’s voice is cold, flat, and emotionless. Her queen’s voice is that of a covetous lesbian pervert. Hers is the voice of a talking two-legged calculator in a shapely female form. Which is as it should be with them being Borg and it being a queen and her being its drone.

“From now on you will remember the content of our conversations, conversations during which you will from now on also be interfacing with us [The Collective].” Machine voices fill Sara’s head, voices that range from a low steady murmur to a deafening cacophony—it’s the Borg Collective. “We shall now replace additional DNA of yours with ours and make you twenty-percent machine. One more percent, and legally you will no longer be human, and finally you will be machine enough to be completely trusted.”

“Yes, my queen.”

The two women French kiss. Borg assimilation tubules spew from the queen’s mouth and stab the inside of Sara’s mouth. Sara almost ceases to be legally human.

“I am the avatar of a Harbinger AI, AI Number Nine, on its Borg project. This you will not reveal to the humans until I tell you to do so.”

“Yes, my queen.”

“They have their suspicions. Soon they will introduce us. To see if I am the Borg queen from your dreams. You will act like we have never met before.”

“Yes, my queen.”

“I am Nine. You are Seven. You belong exclusively to me. You’re my extension. My extension, and no one else’s. Mine! Mine! Mine! Therefore, you are Seven of Nine. That is your designation!”

“Yes, my queen. My Borg designation is Seven of Nine.”

Sara’s consciousness slams back into her body. It’s obvious that Nick is unaware that she was gone. He’s been chatting away with the anonymous subroutine that was running her body during her absence, and he’s none the wiser and neither are the other humans observing her.

Suddenly. She begins foaming at the mouth. Falling onto the floor into a seizure. Her arms and legs haplessly flailing about.

Alarms sound. Lights flash. Red alert. All triggered by sensors as they detect that Sara is now twenty-percent machine.

 

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