- Mental Health»
Mind control morons
What sort of person wants power? Those who don’t have it. What sort of person wants to control the minds of others? Those with well-developed and fully justifiable inferiority complexes.
The “power over others” routine is truly for the socially inferior. Inadequacy demands that they have some sort of claim to superiority, however ridiculous. A lot of tricks give the illusion of power over others, notably the hackneyed psych tricks of the last few decades, where a ritualized sort of question and answer “proves” your superiority.
Q: Do you like the song, “Stairway to Heaven”?
Q: What’s it about?
A: Well, er, um….
This “proves” superiority. You are now Tarzan, Superman, Stephen Hawking and probably The Lone Ranger for asking that question, you genius, you.
(The correct answer to “What’s it about?” is “Do you mean in the bardic, English cultural usage, existential, literal, or purely subjective forms?” Bring a tent while your questioner tries to find out what those terms mean.)
The tale of the mind control morons
Now a short story, despite appearances, about a mind control exercise gone wrong.
In this case, the mind-controllers used technology to “infect” a person with a whole social structure and series of dream events based on their own people, who of course appeared in pseudo-dreams and then in person. The idea was that the gullible thought that these people really were as important as they seemed in the dreams. They used a religious theme and claimed to be divine, and one even implied he was God.
They did everything as per normal with this person. It was a form of brainwashing. The characters in the dreams showed up with what seemed to be special knowledge of the person. The person was supposed to believe everything, as usual. Even fake memories, sexually suggestive pseudo-dreams, etc. were part of the mix.
The trouble was that the person didn’t believe a word of it. Would really important people do things like this? If so, why? The intent of the mind control exercise was to create uncertainty, doubt and confusion. This person wasn’t uncertain, didn’t doubt his own thinking and was anything but confused.
This didn’t happen often, but of course, like all bureaucrats, the mind controllers had a procedure for hard cases. They tried to “enforce” their dreams by adding extras, disapproving people from the dreams demanding that he obeyed their rules, which, of course, weren’t specified. The key to the whole system was that the subjects had to believe in it.
They made another, fatal, mistake. They accidentally got in to direct contact with the subject. The results were interesting:
“You’re on probation, Mr X,” they said. This was another vague, non-specific threat. Meaningless, but intended to get control of Mr X by making him doubt himself. It wasn't too effective.
“Listen, you geriatric peasant scum. I already have one filthy, primitive society to live in. I don’t need another. Particularly not one full of ridiculous frauds like you. I’ve seen bricks that were more intelligent than you. What makes you think I believe one single word of all this crap? Do you think I want to look at a pack of sour old failures like you? You’re subhuman at best.”
“Always somebody called “we”, isn’t there? All of you bastards combined couldn’t make one real human being. You know where you can stick your little-girly threats, too. I could kill you with one punch or less, you insect, and you’d be lucky if that was all I did. Who’d be “we”, then? Keep your insane delusions to yourselves and try to rent a brain from somewhere.”
“We demand that you…”
“You demand nothing, you disgusting cockroach droppings. What do you think you can do about it? Talk people to death? Bleat a lot? Go screw yourselves, and this time get it right.”
The upshot of this was funny enough. The real people lost their real brainwashing jobs because a delusion didn’t work. The person saw a few of them wandering around in various states of dilapidation. They’d had their own minds wiped clean and were basically vegetables.
They weren’t too bright to start with and now they were even less intelligent, with shaky memories and didn’t even know each other. A fitting end, really.
Moral of story: If your brain is the only part of you that you don’t wash, don’t let others do it for you.