Power Hour #2 (Incomplete)

George sees and feels and senses and that is all. He is a man is slave to the things his brain tells him to do. Those without the Seeing Eye cannot be truly free. George is told to eat, sleep and shit because he has to, he is wired to. George intakes information, waits for the neural synapses to fire and then he knows, or thinks he knows. He is nothing compared to the rich who understand. The poor exist in the past, always waiting for their limited brain processes to complete. In the world of Simplistia, George is not, nor will he ever be.

Scientists invented The Seeing Eye so they could understand the world, not just perceive. The machine was heralded as the next step for humanity. No longer will humankind have to wonder why they act the way they do. Nonsensically. Violently. Hatefully. For the first time, humankind could see into their mind, skip the eternal barriers of time, and see the causes of their nonsense, violence and hate. The subconscious was no longer a Freudian theory. Humankind had no limitations upon thought. All was possible.

The leader of Simplistia was the first to see his mind. At the time, he was a paid guinea pig. But after gaining the Seeing Eye, he knew he could take control of the land. He slipped the scientists some tasteless poisons. He stole the Seeing Eye and took it to the capital. He bribed the senators one by one with little tastes of the truth. They promised him powerful positions, and he joined the senate. But he had tampered with the Seeing Eye. The bribed senators caught glimpses of their evil and nothing more. And one by one, they killed themselves, ashamed of their inner demons. The leader rose from the piling corpses, proclaiming order to the people. He displayed the Seeing Eye as his own invention. And the public elected him to the highest power, because he was the only one who truly knew. The rich joined him, paying him with mountains of money. And those who paid became known as The Knowers. The leader hid the machine from the general public. Outlawed any attempts to copy it. And the Knowers ruled, and no one questioned their authority.

The middle class were allowed annual momentary glimpses into their own mind. But they paid not with money but instead with their free will. And they were rewarded by the Knowers with power and lavish homes and eternal servanthood. Those who rebelled, who held on to their limited free will fell to the bottom of society. They were called The Quiet, for their voice did not matter. They did not understand themselves, so they could not understand the workings of the upper classes. The country of Simplistia grew to control the world, but the Quiet’s brains starved and no one cared.

George really wants to fuck Amy. He can say why to his friends. He likes to talk about her shapely hips, her flowing, auburn hair, her petite, ideal bust, or her melodic voice. But he bullshits. He could go on endlessly and he’d still have no idea why he was so attracted. Sarah has bigger tits. His fuck-buddy, Jamie, has a firmer ass, he knows because he liked to slap it. The models in the magazines have all of what society deemed as perfect. But he really wants to fuck Amy, and his dick hurt thinking about it.
George likes to walk about as if his cock were hanging out. He wears solid soled shoes because of the clacking sounds they make. He beats down the street and people look at him with crooked heads. His hips swivel right to left. On a crowded street, his friends would put him at the front like a battering ram. He says he’s a tall, strong man, but statistically, he’s average. He makes short jokes all the time to Amy, but he’s not that much taller. George struts to her house with some four dollar flowers. He wants many things, but right now he wants Amy.

He lives in the Quiet part of the city. He’s heard about the Seeing Eye, and he rants about the injustice. He badgers random strangers on the subway, tries to get their attention about the new march to the Knowers part of town. George will never go through with it. The Knowers put the Quiet on the edge of the city as if they were hiding a child’s mess. If a bug were to come out of this hidden mess, the parent would stomp it out of existence. George likes to live. So he bullshits some more, and most ignore him. Some people tell him to shut up. His parents tell him to shut the fuck up because the Knowers might hear. George doesn’t listen, he doesn’t know any better.