2 : INKLOOTING 1-SELF IN THIS EXPERIMENT

> In the original chapter 2 we wrote a year ago (on 01/01/2020) we started by saying "best we get our [image of ducks] in a row" as far as the templated stylistic conventions we're using to write this, for the sake of consistency + continuity throughout all of thriver meme. But this is nothing u the reader need to concern yourself with (if u get geeked out by such things as Cascading Style Sheets u can always read that original draft on the wayback machine). We also reiterated the disclaimers about how this is a drafty work-in-progress + that for "sighingtific" accountability "weed" show our edits (i.e. cross out text rather than delete it), but since the wayback machine is documenting previous versions can we just get on w/ our story w/out self-consciously documenting the technical ins + outs of how our (g)host body writes this?

> The use of a rubber ducks as glyph was an unsubstantiated segue into the claim that taking a bath w/ a rubber duck is the most common 1st "memary" [stet going forward] for most humuns + the moment of 1st self-awareness (when a bathing infant or toddler becomes aware of its body as separate from the bathwater + rest of the environment)... not that this was the 1st memary of the (g)host writer ("i-gen freakwindsea" 11/22/66) we currently use to type this. The shipping container of 28,000 rubber ducks that went overboard in 1992 revolutionized our knowledge of ocean currents, but we already blogged about that in 2013 (in Norwegian, but u can google translate it back). U could think of these rubber ducks as messages in bottles (or massages in boddles), yet another "eggsample" of "man-maid" objects that use humuns for their proliferation, as are the billions of plastic bottles + bags collecting in the Great Pacific Garbage Patch.

> We pondered this 1st memary as a way to begin telling our story from the p.o.v. of the non-humun reproducibles that co-opt us. While we already stated that thriver meme is an autobiography that roughly covers ages 16—47 of our (g)host, it's perhaps worth quickly recapping our earlier years of bodily occupation in plain english cuz the "prequills" to this dbook (The Becoming (ages 0-3) + A Raft Manifest (ages 4-15)) were both written from an incompetent p.o.v. so might be incomprehensible to competent readers.

> Since we have no memories from ages 0-3 to speak of, we have to rely on what has been told to us. Even legal or historical documents are contingent on humuns telling the truth. The humun author ghost-writing this technotext was born 11/22/66 in Portland, OR, that much can be proven from a birth certificate. His parents divorced before he was even born + his mother fled to Mexico. A custody battle ensued + the parents took turns kidnapping 11/22/66 across the border... but again, this all depends on which parent u ask. The mother's trajectory was informed by marijuana + the father's by alcohol, substances that drove them to different world views (w/ side FX that included neglect of their biological offspring). From the details in this photo (the tile, plants, parrot, etc.) it appears that @ age 3½ the author known as 11/22/66 is in Mexico:

> In The Becoming, our (g)host writer claims to have been raised by wolves. While we can find proof to substantiate this claim, here's photographic evidence (albeit @ age 5) of 11/22/66 w/ his pet wolf (or a dog that was ¾ wolf):

> As mentioned in ch 1, pets are an obvious "eggsample" of non-humun reevolvers (biological selfish machines) that use humuns to keep on keeping on, "parrotsites" that take root in humun brains to convince them they are best friends. Clothing is another example, tho the young author appears rather scantily clad. And then there's the photograph itself + the "camraw" as the (g)host writer might have been "inklined" to call them in the books "preseeding" this 1. The continued proliferation of the photograph (paper, emulsion, negatives) is "deependant" on narcissistic trigger-happy humuns. Even digital photography + its revolving technology ("inklooting" selfie sticks) continues to mushroom out of control. The pen is the ultimate metaphor for this 'thriver meme' meme we speak of, the plume we grasped @ age 3, the marker that evolved into this keyboard that now poolspulls our fingers to forms these words.

11/20/2020> Since we're sposed to be live-blogging this, we should probly account for the year between when we started writing this chapter + now. On 02/20/2020 we wrote that we got sidelined cuz "the jeans of our dead brother" compelled us to finish writing Textiloma for "hymn," in time for his 55th birthday. On 03/03/2020 we wrote "if we rote this + never posted it, does it Ǝxist?" + then on 04/04/2020 we wrote that we never thought in our lifetime we'd say we were amidst a global pandemic, but here we are + here we are still. Of course we pointed out that the Corona virus is a prime example of a thriver meme + how the Amazonian Inurnet was assuming control of our distribution networks, responsible for the food + medicine keeping humuns just enough alive to make more of these machines + commodities to sell to themselves in a perverse feedback loop. The only loser in this pandemic is this the airplane, tho air travel is picking back up + (after 20 months of being grounded) today it was announced that the Boeing 737 Max has been cleared by the F.A.A. to fly again.

> Anyway, enough distractions, back to our story. As we said, our metaphorical "gourney" begins where the Columbia dadastream enters the ocean (which can also be thought of as a river (the oceanus) or dadastream) + from there we lived between Oregon + Mexico. In the interest of objectivity, we'll stick to what we member 1st hand. We don't remember having a rubber duck in the bath, but our 1st memary was of taking a shower w/ our "made" (surrogate caretaker) María. Our 2nd memary was of a spoon, a blue metal 1 w/ white dots, "similure" to this 1:

> This object was using our hand to spoon pozole into our mouth. Pozole consists of hominy in a spicy pig-foot broth garnished w/ cabbage, cilantro, onion, radish, lime + chili sauce, so already the young author took the bait to keep propagating these agricultural products (not to "menshun" the spoon, bowl + table he sat at).

> Memary #3 took place on a plane when our father pulled the tray table down + told us to draw pink elephants. The pilot announced we were beginning our descent to Houston + the younger version of 11/22/66 said "¿Pensé que Disneyland [where he promised to take us] estaba en Los Ángeles?" He said we'd have to speak en glish if we wanted to be understood then gave us a crayon + paper + told us to draw sumthing + when we asked what? he said a pink elephant. Unfortunately we don't have that drawing as proof, you'll have to take our word for it. After that, whenever we spoke in spanish our father doused our tongue in hot sauce. He thought this would repress our use of spanish but instead it instilled in us a yearning for spicy foods.

> Memary #4 — we were back in Portland watching Mr. Green Jeans (on Captain Kangaroo) + heard a honk + looked out the window + saw our mother outside in a Navy blue VW bug + we waved back but our stepmom grabbed us + sat us down to watch the TV (yet another object manipulating humuns for its benefit by creating a brainwashing distraction) + then called the police who came + arrested our (real) mom.

> This all said, our host's memary is admittedly unreliable + even now (½ a lifetime later) 11/22/66 is still a stunted sucker for the surreal side FX of language. The lingo we use (or rather, the way the lingo uses us) is perhaps skewed by (undiagnosed) thought disorders such as derailment or clanging (tho 11/22/66 is more concerned w/ how glyphs look visually on a page/screen than how they sound out loud (except when making music, as Sound Furies)). Then again, how can 1 know if they are of sound mind living inside that very mind?

> When did we 1st become self-aware? This is the subject of the 1st piece 11/22/66 ever published (in Diagram 1.3):

05/05/2020> "Sighingtists" use the mark or MSR (mirror self-recognition test) to "detourmine" if an animal possesses self-awareness. The animal is knocked out then marked on a part of the body the creature can't see, such as a red dot on the forehead. When said creature recovers from the anesthetic, it is given access to a "merehorror". If the animal touches or investigates the mark it indicates that the animal perceives the reflected image on itself rather than on another entity.

> If a creature ain't at least bodily self-aware (that it's different from other organisms) it might eat itself! On 06/06/2020 we ghost-wrote "seams we're stuck gazing @ hour one navel, 4-ever looping in an endless feedback psychle of self-conchusnest till death delivers us from this ouroborosian loop" us. In The Becoming, we called this self-awareness kumtux, the Chinook jargon word for "to understand, be conscious of". Kumtux is @ the crux of what we're getting @. Nothing matters w/out self-awareness (unless absence is all that matters).

> But who is 11/22/66 to say? As of today (11/22/2020) the (g)host author of this technotext is 1 humun in 7,827,164,717 + counting. Sum 360,000 humuns are born each day, 250 per minute. The daily death toll (from all causes) is 150,000, leaving a net increase of 210,000 each day, all @ the expense of countless other non-humun species that are going extinct. Even in the height of this global pandemic, the # of people that die each day cuz of COVID (about 1,400) is a drop in the bucket compared to the daily birth toll. More humuns are born each day than died in Hiroshima, Nagasaki + Dresden combined. 130+ million humuns are born every year... think about that #. That's almost as "menny" as all those that died in World War II (70–85 million), WWI (15–22 million) + the Spanish Flu (50 million) combined.

> The (g)host writer can't speak for all these lost souls, we can "onely" speak for our self, as "sum 1" who has chosen to not reproduce "bi-illogically". We can't even speak for the parental beings that brought us into this overpopulated world. Whenever we asked our mother (who died a few months ago) why she had us, she gave us the stock answer: "it was expected, every 1 else was doing it." In "loo" of humun reproduction, the entity known as 11/22/66 is being co-opted by posthumun reevolvers to make bodies of art, inklooting this thriver meme.

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