Brokenminthoughts’ take on 8/3/12

I can't tell you how honored I am the BrokenMindThoughts is expanding some of these ideas for himself. Take it away, BMT!  TJ

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Ideabird 8/3/12 - My story

theideabird:

The vomeronasal organ (VNO) is a secondary chemical reception organ (like smell) in many mammals, and possibly in humans. Unlike smell, it only registers chemical messages, pheremones, from your own species. There is much debate over whether adults still have them, or if they’re reabsorbed into the body as we age. In any case, the genes appear to be there, even if not expressed. The gene gets expressed, and we all suddenly have six senses. We learn not just to receive these pheremonic messages, but that we can communicate with them, creating something as beautiful and primal as music, but in a new sense.

The ability to sense someone else’s feelings or chemical became a problem quickly. It was a known fact that people lie. Our lives are based on lies. We lie to ourselves, we lie to others, others lie to us and we are okay with it. We endorse it, we enjoy it because it makes our lives simpler. When we speak to the bank teller and they tell us “We can’t do anything about this, sorry”, we believe them and reach some form of acceptance upon leaving. When we ask our supervisor at work about a certain activity and they explain it to us, we trust them to know what they are talking about. When we ask our friends for advice, we trust they tell us the truth.

The VNO changed all that, or at least started to. A push of extremist neo-moralist surged with the changes. They called the sensing organ an inhuman thing, an intrusion on privacy and freedom. People were meant to be secretive, to have a peace of mind when talking to someone that they could hide behind a wall of smiles and speeches. We had our excuses but no more.

Jack was a Neo-Moralist and he joined the movement proudly. He was one of the first adults to develop the VNO. He could not stand having to experience and feel everyone’s feelings, everyone’s desires, and hidden perceptions. He found it repulsive. He found it repulsive to the point where he sought to have the organ removed. Alas, it was joined too closely with the brain to be removed safely.

He was approached by a police officer once, he mused, the stink of a bad day on him. The officer asked him about his driving skills and the speed he was going but he knew all too well the cop did not care for any of it. He wanted to finish the bad day, get a ticket into his quota, and the cop did not particularly like the way Jack looked either.

There was a whiff of a broken heart. Sounds like his girlfriend cheated on him with a guy that looked like me, great. Already disappointed and angry, Jack gave the cop a bad time. And this is why I’m a Neo-Moralist. This is not worth it.

When he returned home, he got on the internet and talked to his friends on a forum, discussing his negative experience. How nice it is, he thought, not to have to feel what they feel, not to have to know if they’re lying or not, not to have to watch one’s feelings and chemical outputs.

He slumped down and relaxed, sighing. The Neo-Moralists were sure to win this one. No one should have to be subjected to this. The propagandists call it beauty, but it’s horror. They call it a path to empathy, Jack calls it a path to perpetual hate.

© Tony Jonick 2013