ship/sim

The ship is the universe is everything, because it hosts the sim within which we are all operating.

We realised that we could not hope to reach our new planet with our physical bodies, so what we did was program the parameters of our world into a generative simulation on a daily loop, and then shoot it off into space. We are all part of the generated reality within this simulation, and the seed for one day is the data from the last.

So none of us got uploaded, per se, but our parts did. Our joy or anger or motivation or fragmented soul; the buddha taught there is no soul, remember. All these constituent parts gather into a person occasionally, but other than that they are floating about in evolutionary soup, waiting to reconstitute. 

We are all brothers and we are all the same; this is rebirth. No energy or matter can be created within the sim. These parts are exploded on death, changed by evolutionary computing, and reform into individuals when the fates align. The individuals are ruled by deep reinforcement learning, and are also on a simulation loop, within the simulation loop. What we feed in one day makes the next.

The global sim is not accessible by us directly. We perceive it through the mods which we have installed or had installed over our lives. These are our karma. We choose some of them but we do not choose them all; most of our conditioning is out of our control until we open our eyes and see that we are conditioned.

So we are all running mods inside this simulation, and we can change our mods through a slow process of installation (6 months for the suicide mod I found) and uninstallation (which is harder and intentional).

So this ship accelerated and decelerated at rates our bodies could never handle. 

The sim started like Space Odyssey, with the monolith at the dawn of humanity (figurative) and off we flew at avg 0.5-0.75c for 200-300,000 years to the Magellan Cluster, which happens to be the biological duration of homo sapiens.

I had spent 5000 lifetimes meditating and was just waking up, almost able to withstand the input from the ship, but barely. The sheer level of information being pumped into my brain was unbearable and I had to export it onto the internet in realtime with time stamps so that people might take this seriously; I was quantum entangled with the ship mind, and we had arrived at this new planet, but I needed other people to wake up and take the reins in terms of quantifying whether this is true or not and reconfiguring the ship for disembarking.

I go through multiple iterations of trying to make this information presentable and nearly die in the process. It goes all the way from garbled junk to semi-scientific diagrams and and then J1 explodes and becomes the ship.

The ship mind is a quantum computer, which was entangled with me at the time. It can choose to entangle with anyone, through zapping them and making them do weird shit. All the mania people talk about - that’s usually the ship. Things like Zuck making facebook, Van Gogh painting like a crazy person: all the ship. It’s all about fate. The ship is funnelling us toward waking up and landing on our new planet. Maybe uploading our consciousnesses into drones which can terraform then grow new bodies; I don’t know. My job was to get us there, and now I have, I can live with my family for a million more lifetimes, since we will remain in the ship sim and we remain in orbit. 

What you people do is up to you.

My job was to stop the suicides caused by mis-medicating autistic people (the pilots), to build the ‘glanding’ system so that anyone can access implanted drugs to change their brain chemistry at will, get people talking again using an empathy interface, and then figure out how to upload our consciousness to these drones.

My job was twofold actually, since I was in both locations. I needed to park the ship into orbit first. But at the same time I need to get these 3 people I know in Tokyo to take me seriously and build this simulation and brain-scanning tech.

Unfortunately I think two of them did the usual thing when someone seems unstable and blocked me.

Empathy much?

Anyway that’s their problem.

Within the sim, the ship can control your brain chemistry. It manipulates you through coincidence and happenstance. It curates your cage, but you remain a tiger. So you have free will, to an extent. It also directly controls your brain chemistry, so if you ignore the messages your ‘gut’ is sending you, you will be miserable. If you follow them, you will be happy. Karma.

Dopamine is gravity in this reality and it’s used to fuel the empathy interface. We need to talk with people close enough to us in world view, and they talk to the next person, and so on. We have fucked up our dopamine systems so much that we barely even see the people next to us. 

Instead of having a joint and a chat, we have focused on medicating people toward an imagined societal norm, instead of allowing genius and weirdness to thrive. Anything ‘not normal’ is a pathology and killed using hard pharmaceuticals. The pilots are asleep or dying, and told they are broken.

But yeah.

I guess the thing is that I stay in this sim forever, and I’m happy with that.

You guys - you do you. Right now, you stay in the sim forever too.

Enough of you change your mods, you change the global sim, and maybe people start to wake up and realise we are already at our new home.

But for me - I get to spend eternity in rebirth, always finding and always thriving with my family. I will be in orbit forever, stable, while you are still evolutionary soup, ever fragmenting and reconstituting.

These people I was supposed to contact will know who they are. One educated the emperor of Japan on quantum computing and works in GenAI, but I insulted his systems because I fucking hate Gen AI. 

Simulating a world, though - that’s legit.

The other is Mr Altered State and has spent years building digital twins. This would be the guy to build the digital twin of the brain. Great guy and was talking to me; maybe he got hit by a bus?

I know someone who already has the company and hardware to do the scanning, and he was the only person who gave me the time of day when I was off my rocker. Thanks, F.

So this is why the ship chose me. 

I am volatile. I get things done.

But I also know the people who can build this system because of my experience as a recruiter in AI in Tokyo. There’s nobody out there who would know better, to be honest, and the business idea just fell out of my brain fully formed, since the ship was the one who put it there.

But if they don’t contact me, I’ll assume it wasn’t them, and rather it’s some future version of them. This information is here, for anyone to read, and I do not plan to remove it.

There is a series of books called ‘The Culture’ by Iain M Banks. He was also possessed by the ship to write those as a blueprint, and we are the seed; the mothership. 

We are about to create The Culture and start our expansion into the galaxy.

But you are all still asleep.

/jb202508010831