Stephen Bleile

The job of monitoring the vast storehouse of information, experience, thoughts, feelings -and your reaction to them all- has been assigned to a rather amicable little robot called introspection. (For fear of copyright infringement I won’t point out that is like something you might have seen on Wall-e, but, off the record,  it is quite similar.)

It wonders the immense warehouse of your soul, mind and spirit checking the feelings pressure, monitoring the strength and weakness levels, double checking the insecurity read outs, gauging your optimetrix on the optimimometer (a device which measures optimism and pessimism), and gives you, its faithful companion, readouts.

And there is nothing that delights the little robot more than providing read outs. Read outs on your feeling.  Read outs on how your memories are interacting.   Read outs read out read outs.  It is capable of computing millions of readouts per second and excels at combining even the most extraneous data to produce new (you guessed it) read outs.

Introspection was designed by the body to provide information to you, its faithful companion and provider of new information.  It will not be offended if you reject its findings or decide not to use the information it presents.  It is quite content to provide more read outs read outs read outs.

You can send it on specific missions or it will roam at its own providing you with more read outs read outs read outs.

Since its job is not to analyze the data Introspection was specifically programmed with the ability to provide and believe data that is seemingly contradictory.  When recalling a conversation with a friend your happy feelings may produce happy memories of the conversation and the robot will take great delight in printing a read out.  The next day, let’s say it’s not a happy day, your memory of the same conversation may provoke jealousy.  And the robot will be equally delighted to print a new read – paying no mind to the last.

Because of the amicable nature of the robot and the efficacy of its actions many people can become enamored by it.

This, of course, can represent a whole range of problems.  If, say, you are watching Introspection at work you may fail to notice the light has changed and earn a honk from the angry person behind you.  Or, if while reviewing some read outs you realize that two results produce a paradoxical conclusion. You may attempt to believe both simultaneously.  (I am happy about my friend and jealous of her.) People, not programmed to believe disparate information, often find themselves in immensely uncomfortable situations as a result.

Introspection prints read outs.  Day and night.  It is our job to decide what to do with them.

I recently tried applying hand lotion / face cream to the spot on my nose where my glasses sit.  It was sore and itchy and I thought the cream might mitigate the situation.

It worked.

I started using the stuff more and more.  Bit by bit. -I didn’t just do the bridge of my nose anymore.  No.  I started putting it on my forehead, cheeks, neck, and even my arms if there was a little extra on my hands.

Then I started noticing a disturbing trend.  My face and hands were so cold outside.  All that moisture in my skin was acting as a giant wet blanket transferring my body heat into the great wide open.

That wasn’t my only problem, though.  Far from it.

I started rolling back my usage of the cream – only to discover that my hands and face had grown used to it.  Now i can’t go without.  My once normal skin has become a desolate dessert waiting for the next dew of the god’s to moisten it’s dried and cracked fissures.

As if that wasn’t enough… (and speaking of rolling)  the cream is why the track ball on my mighty mouse doesn’t work anymore.  The poor little thing has just been exposed to too much. Its crisp plastic insides have become a sloggly sluggish bog of gooey cream.

I don’t know where to go from here.

The mouse I can replace (and have – thank you) but what of my hands and face?