E Pluribus Unum

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alestar 11/24/2019 (Sunday) 00:11:31 #86141245

hey its shitpost sunday yayyyy

fuck capitalism amirite guise

jagvanderwild 11/24/2019 (Sunday) 00:13:52 #86141246

says the guy probably posting this from a $1300 2019 macbook pro

basiary 11/24/2019 (Sunday) 02:21:34 #86141245

Hijacking this shitpost to plug a story that I've been meaning to tell:

Dr. Anatoly Sokolov was at the forefront of Soviet scienctific research during the hottest years of the Cold War. The Khrushchev Thaw allowed Sokolov to enjoy a degree of scientific freedom that was atypical at the time. Upon the rise of the traditionalist Leonid Brezhnev in 1964, Sokolov's work was deemed counterrevolutionary and he lost all credibility. He would go on to die in obscurity, with barely pennies to his name, three years later.

As the world reeled from the brink of nuclear war, feelings of apprehension at the U.S in the Soviet Union continued to run high. There was a desperate need to be ahead of the capitalist svin'yas in the event of another Cuban crisis. This culminated in a highly illegal set of animal experimentation in the winter of 1962-1963, known in Russia only as zhivoye nebo—Living Sky. Without the authorization of the Politburo, Sokolov rounded up dozens of stray animals throughout Moscow and administered rounds of psychoactive drugs interspersed with sessions of electroshock therapy and sensory deprivation, each regimen carefully tailored for each species so their bodies wouldn't give out. Sokolov's goal was to induce a state of total dissociation from higher-level thought processes, shutting off all brain activity except the most primitive of neuronal connections. Out of these connections something else would arise: the formation of a higher entity composed of each individual. E pluribus unum. Out of many, one.

Sokolov planned to move onto humans. If this succeeded, he would create the perfect Red Army: one living, breathing entity made out of the minds of the many. In some ways it was a better fate than the victims of MKUltra. They would always be part of something greater than them. It was the ultimate form of unity.

It was on the 10th of January that Sokolov got his results. He chose two test subjects, both stray laika dogs, listless and quiet from the treatments but still very much alive. He stationed one of them in Moscow, where his lab was, and sent the other to his associates in Leningrad, over 720 kilometers away. Now came the moment of truth. Sokolov walked up to the dog in Moscow, lying on the floor in catatonia, and slapped it. It recoiled, as a living thing is supposed to do.

Here's what makes this interesting: Sokolov's researchers in Leningrad reported that the dog there had recoiled too.

Sokolov had succeeded. He had created an intangible link between these two dogs, bound together by some psychic force that rose out of the ashes of their brains after the horrible experiments. Now it was time to move on to his next goal: inducing a state of suggestibility in these dogs and making them totally subservient to his every command.

This is where things get disturbing.

One of Sokolov's researchers in Leningrad was cutting off the ID tag on the dog's ankle with a pocket knife when he accidentally slipped, puncturing the dog's flesh. Drops of blood fell onto the floor. The dog jolted and whined in pain. When Sokolov and his team in Moscow were preparing to do the same to their dog, they discovered that something was wrong with it: its ankle was bleeding too.

This was no longer a psychic link that Sokolov had created: it was a physical one. Frightened but intrigued, Sokolov and his team repeated the experiment on any animals that survived the treatments, from bears to mice to reindeer. All of them breathed when one of them breathed. All of them blinked when one of them blinked. All of them bled when one of them bled. Sokolov soon found out this phenomenon transcended the divide of species. There was a thread connecting the creatures of Earth together with one another.

Before I elaborate on the following events, I must admit that I have withheld an important piece of information from. While it is true that Anatoly Sokolov died three years into the Brezhnev regime, destitute and forgotten, his last conscious moments were spent on the morning of January 30, 1963. That was the day Sokolov chose his first and only human subject for Living Sky: himself.

The mental deterioration that ensued from the Living Sky treatments was a slow and torturous one akin to the progression of Alzheimer's disease. Sokolov used what remained of his lucidity to document the things he saw when undergoing the Living Sky regiment. What he discovered… well, I'll let him speak for himself.

"When the episode began it was as if I had awoken from a long slumber. My sense of sight was keen and active, as if seeing it through the eyes of an infant. The world around me took on a grayish-blue hue and was humming with some type of energy. My fellow researchers were nowhere to be seen.

"I found out I was able to 'move' without flexing a single muscle; floating through the strange world around me like an apparition. I moved through the laboratory until I got to the kennels where we kept all the animals for our experiments, where I stopped in my tracks. Through their cages I could see them, dogs and cats and birds, their forms deformed and warped beyond recognition. Where their faces should be was a clawlike appendage latching onto their crania, blackened tendrils creeping half a meter down their bodies. From the ends of these appendages dangled a single fleshy tendril, each one interlocked with one another, seemingly phasing through the walls that divide the kennels to form a single massive conical complex, pointing upwards at the sky.

"From the top of this cone rose a single tendril, much larger than the others, throbbing with a bizarre iridescent light. I found out I was able to ascend upwards, phasing through the ceiling of the laboratory as I followed the glowing tendril. It was at this point I found out what it led towards. It was as if the clouds themselves had turned into flesh, coalescing to form a gigantic sheet of viscera blocking out the sun, which the tendril directly attached to at some point in its expanse. As I looked around, I saw countless others like it having descended upon the land, all serving to feed the flesh in the sky.

"Gazing at the abomination I realized: I was wrong. We had not created the psychic or physical links between those animals. We had only uncovered extant links. This obscenity in the sky is the unity of all those creatures, the whole generated from the sum of these individual parts. The individuality we perceive in the creatures of this world is a lie. The only thing that is real is the abomination in the sky."

Sokolov's fate was not that of his subjects. He entered a coma, in which he remained for three more years before dying of pneumonia.

The story doesn't end there. Sokolov wasn't the last test subject.

Two years after Sokolov's death, one of his former researchers, a Mr. Vyalcheslav Zakharov, attempted to resurrect Light Sky, unaware of the conclusions made during its final experiment. He intended to reenact Sokolov's Moscow-Leningrad experiment—after all, its results could It turned out the reason why Sokolov had met with a different fate was that he neglected a single compound: 1-hexanoyl-9H-carbazole-4-carbaldehyde. That compound is an obscure hallucinogen, virtually unknown in modern science. Turns out, it was the final ingredient needed to fully calibrate the Light Sky procedure for the human brain.

Zakharov got ahold of two political prisoners and stationed one in Moscow and one in Leningrad, just as Sokolov had done, and administered the new and improved Light Sky drug regimen. Once the men had descended into catatonia just like the previous subjects, Zakharov stayed faithful to his superior's procedure and slapped the man in Moscow hard across his right cheek.

Five seconds go by. Then ten. Thirty. A minute. Five. Ten. After fifteen minutes went by with no observable reaction from the Leningrad man, Zakharov called off the experiment, frustrated. He would go on to live the rest of his life believing that he had failed.

Yet there's a rumor that Zakharov's researchers in Leningrad, as they were taking the listless man away to determine how to dispose of him, saw a handful of muscles in the right side of his face tighten as if grimacing through a sudden ache.