And we know that all things work together for good to those who love God
The Church of Logitech was an enormous building, built of huge stone blocks with buttresses plunging great depths into the water on all sides. Antony stood in his dirty suit at the end of the bridge, with his hand on the door. The huge dark oak doors were closed, but there was a smaller entrance cut out of the right hand door that was open. Even knowing that it’d been built with some of his money, it was hard not to be intimidated. He breathed deeply, summoned up his outrage, and pushed on the door.
Inside, huge marble pillars soared up to the gold inlaid dome. Specks of dust and smoke from the incense sticks danced in the few shafts of light. Antony was halfway down the marble aisle towards the sanctuary before he was met by an hooded and cloaked figure.
“Hi, I’m Steve, and I’m your pastor for this evening”
Antony sighed. “I’d like to speak to the abbot of customer services.”
Steve looked Antony up and down, taking in the dishelved hair, the stubble, the scent of alcohol, and the thorougly disheveled suit. He’d only been working here three weeks, but he was getting quite good at evaluating peoples need and potential for being blessed. Working here had been the cheapest way for him to acheive his own blessing.
“I’m afraid he’s busy, you could make an appointment for two months time.”
“Pastor eh? New though. I bet you aren’t even given 5 minutes of grace processing to pass to the worshipers. I’m not here for blessing, I am the owner of the Most High Prioirty.”
The claim seemed unlikely, but Steve gazed up at the row of icons depicting the blessed along the ceiling. The man before him was there, unmistakable even in mosaic. Flustered, he bowed and said “Of course, please follow me sir”.
The abbot of customer services was dining with the abbot of the exchequer, discussing money and clerical matters over fine food, but when he saw Antony, he excused himself immediately.
They sat together in a confessionary where poorer folks could swap information about their doings out of the eye of society for a brief blessing. He knew that everything would be recorded by the serengents, but it was in strictest confidence – nobody could talk to a serengent.
“Why are you even here? You have already received the greatest blessing we can give you, you have no need for worship – there is no point entering you in the worshipers lottery for greater priority, you already have the Most High Priority, you are more blessed (he pronounced the ‘ed’) than the Bishop of Logitech himself”.
“I want to talk to my serengent.”
The abbot spluttered as if he was still eating the fine duck he’d left behind. “Impossible. I don’t care if you are the richest man in the world and the owner of the Most High, no one may speak to their serengent”.
“Was the richest man in the world. In the time since I was ‘blessed’, my wife has left me, my businesses have gone under, my new house collapsed, and the nicest members of my family have died, the rest have fallen on hard times.”
“Strange, strange, indeed, but we never promised you that life would be easy afterwards, just easier than it would otherwise have been. Whatever may have gone wrong, you must trust that you are living the best possible life.”
Antony snorted “I no longer believe. My life is harder than ever before, and I see no changes to the benefit, just an invisible malevolent hand conspiring against me.”,
“Blasphemy! Your serengent is calculating all the possibilities, and making tiny, subtle changes in thousands of situations across the world. It can change information systems, weather systems, traffic systems all across the world. It is supernetral. It can make sure information comes out, or is buried. It knows so much about every individual that it can direct the course of their actions by simply changing the art on the wall, or by altering the scent in the air conditioning. It is a perfectly benign, all powerful software agent, dedicated to your benefit and that alone. You must know that whatever is happening is part of a plan, being woven together as a tapestry by the most sophisticated intelligence known to man. It understands far more than you, it knows every person, place and thing on this planet intimately. Unlike everyone else on the planet, you have an unconstrained serengent. It makes changes for your benefit without concern for the plans of others. Whatever has happened in your life since you were blessed is for the best.”
“I have heard stories”, Antony said, “stories of serengents created to inconveience people, to make their life harder. A curse. On the streets, I met a woman who swore that she had been cursed by one of your exinitiates.”
The abbot became a little more red faced. “It has happened,” he said hesitantly, “our deifiers must create curses to test the blessings against, but they are kept locked up in the crypt, only one has ever become supernetral, and we hunted it down and punished the initiate who released it.
“Perhaps you cursed me instead of blessing me.”
“There is no way that that could happen. We are very careful, and besides, a curse with Most High priority would certainly have found a way to kill you by now.”
“This is wrong you know. You are controlling peoples lives. You are destroying their free will. You have created a false God”
It was the abbots turn to snort contemptuously. “You had no trouble with it when you believed that peoples lives would be controlled for your benefit”. He paused for Antonys rebuttal, but Antony could say nothing. He knew the abbot was right. “As for ‘false God’, it has always been mankinds aim to create God, first in the imagination, then in craftsmanship. Now finally, with the benefit of modern technology, we have succeeded. Replacing supernetral for supernatural, we have finally created the all loving, all powerful, all knowing intelligence, and we make it available at a very reasonable cost. Primitive beliefs in primitive Gods have faded quickly as the whole world has seen the immediate benefits of worshiping here. We are the most successful religion that has ever been. False God? Hah, we have the only true God.”
“I read the leaflets, all that ‘guiding hand steering the hugest of boats with the slightest of touches’ nonsense. It was lies – I cannot explain what has happened to me any other way. You promised me a life of permanent serendipity, forever bumping into forgotten friends and meeting fascinating strangers. Everything I turned my hand to should have succeeded. What is happening? I must ask the serengent.” Antony was near tears.
“We cannot let you ask that question yourself – it cannot work if you learn anything about its plans and what it is doing for you – it creates feedback in the logic. However, I can see that you are in a very unusual position”. His attitude became fatherly, “you should go and rest, I will get some of our deifiers to examine your case. We can’t second guess a serengent, but there are a few things that we can do to investigate. Come back tomorrow, perhaps we will be able to help you then.”, he put his arm round Antonys shoulders and started to walk him towards the door, while at the same time making a series of hand signals to Steve to start the investigation he’d just promised.
Steve hurried up the spiral staircase to the top of the tower, leaving the vague sound of Antonys half hearted protestations behind him. There were only two deifiers on duty in the enormous supernet visualisation room. He bowed deeply as he entered the sacred space. Around him light danced and flowed, the global optimisation problem of happiness was being computed by millions of serengents with complicated priorities, all squabbling for computation rights, as he entered, a warning light flashed, and any visualisation involving his serengent was blanked out.
“What are you doing here?” asked one of the deifiers, “you are one of the blessed, we can’t work properly with you here.”
Steve explained his mission, and then went and sat outside on the cold wooden bench. When the abbot checked on him later that night, he was still there, waiting.
The next morning the abbot found Steve and a deifier sitting quietly in conference outside the visualisation room.
“So”, he said, what did you find?”.
Steve stammered, “The serengent prioritises important long term gains over short term, doesn’t it?”
“Even really long term?
“Certainly, if it’s sure enough of them and they’re important. Why?”
“We believe that Antonys serengent has been making changes to improve his character.”
“Improve his character?” The abbot was incredulous, “but it’s programmed to increase his overall happiness, not make him a better person.”
Steve shifted uncomfortably.
“We’re uncertain exactly what it is doing, but our best guess is that it has found a proof of the existence of an afterlife.”
7 thoughts on “Permanent Serendipity”
The duck suddenly started to move. The abbott spluttered further. Both men watched as the gravy smothered bird that was, up until a few minutes ago,dead and lifeless upon the steel church plate rose up from the dead.
‘oink, oink” came the noise out of the ducks bill.
The abbott opened his dry mouth. The splutterings of seconds previously became a quack…..
to be continued…..
Within minutes, every person in the room had begun to change into a different animal – the duck became a pig, the abbot became a duck. Antony could feel his nose growing and his skin becoming increasingly wrinkly.
I like it a lot.
Thanks. I got the idea from this conversation.
Antony realised to his horror that he was still Antony in the physical form. He was still a man. In some ways that should have been a comfort to him
“Normality is defined by the behaviour of the majority” quacked the pig
“I am abnormal” Antony cried “I am a man. A man who is talking to a quacking pig”.
The duck snorted
Your nose!. The duck shook his curly tail. “what has happened to your nose?.
Antony raised his hand. His now damp fingers traced the outline of his now severe shaped nose. His hand brushed over his wrinkly forehead. He swallowed. Painfully.
“I am not turning into an animal. No. I am Antony the man. It is time that is now in control. Look at how I have aged. Feel my face!. Observe my hollowed wrinkled features!”
The realisation then dawned. Time was in control and the world was under the influence of……..
celery. (That was the shock ending….)
Steve traced the spiral staircase at the top of the tower with the tip of his first finger. He looked down over the millions of serengents puzzling over the mass of complicated priorities. He could sense there goal was not in money, or fame or wealth or power but he, as yet had not reached the conclusion of Antony that their only hope of reaching optimum serendipidy was to have access to something quite so organic and pure as celery. If he had of thought about it, yes, of course it would have made sense.
“Beauty and contentment are only every present with simplicity” whispered Antony to himself as he studied the celery lying in the palm of his outstretched hand. The realisation dawned that he had power to motivate, to bribe, to persuade any one of the serengents to follow any of his orders.
Antony knew just what his goal was. It was…….