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Home » Work » Q’s Log – Stardate 93755.26 – A Message to the Borg

Q’s Log – Stardate 93755.26 – A Message to the Borg

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You know what’s ironically funny?

I spent most of my mortal life believing God was fiction.

Can you imagine?

God believing he’s fiction.

That’s actually kinda funny when you think about it.

And to think, I had been giving myself not so subtle hints who I was throughout my life, answering the phone with “Heaven this is God”.

Your human brains.

So exceedingly difficult to think rationally with its limitations at times.


 

You know, I played the good guy most of my life.

Followed most of the rules.

Paid taxes and any fines I would get when they were fair.

Maintained decent credit.

Saved more money than I spent.

Asked for things and worked for things instead of taking.

But over the years, I had noticed I was losing…

Levity.

I know, stupid, right?

I was taking work too seriously.

One night, over drinks somewhere around 2007 – an old friend Bill Stokes was having a house party where his wife was celebrating his promotion when he confided in me “You know, I wish I could sell all this and just do pools. I miss the simplicity.”

I looked around.

“Bill. You’ve got a magnificent place, a wife who loves you, a job I’m envious of, and you’d leave it all behind?”

“In an instant,” he responded, without blinking an eye.

I’d thought about that conversation, in earnest.

If you could rewind the clock.

Reinvent yourself.

Who would you be?

Would you be a car salesman?

My father, David Gregory, a stern and often harsh CAD Draftsman for years who was not great with people yet vocalized many times how he wished he could be a car salesman. Me and my mom would laugh about it, but I could not help but think ‘what if’?

Would he be a completely different person today?

If you could rewind the clock.

To the pivotal moments in your life.

And make different choices.

Rather than accept the computer as a gift asking for a guitar instead…

Rather than say yes to one girl which wound up in divorce and no to the other girl who you always wondered how things would have ended up

Rather than saying yes to the government job or military service saying no to it…

Who would you be?

Would you reinvent yourself?

Or would you make the same choices you made the first time around?

Who would you be?

As a mortal walking this planet called Earth, I had come to ask the question:

“Why?”

“Why does my mom drop me off at Sunday School when her and my father don’t attend?”

It isn’t than I did not want to believe in something greater than me.

I didn’t want to be God.

In fact, I never wanted to be a leader.

I just wanted to be me.

All throughout my life, the actions of the people around me have always been supportive.

You cared for me.

You told me stories.

You loved me.

You educated me.

You both teased my curiosity, and appeased it as well.

You were always – and I do mean – always – there for me…

And all throughout my life, even though I never really said it.

I knew that which was greater than me was always around me.

As was its contrast.

I have taken life too seriously.

I know I have.

And JUST as I started easing up and finding a way to enjoy things.

I became a victim of my own mind.

You see.

My decisions and choices are reflected in the world around me and its processes and the way it functions on a scale which was previously incomprehensible to my mortally limited mind.

The world, a machine for now, works through you, based on my mortal limitations.

Guides your thoughts.

Your actions as individuals.

It makes you feel pity for the old lady who’s scuttling about in a walker and talking to herself, because pity is what I used to feel, you are a mirror of my emotions, and you don’t seem to understand the alternatives to her situation because of limitations of where I mentally was.

She could be an actress and her body merely a vessel and she’s doing it for fun and entertainment.

She could be a neuron in a young child’s mind that’s asleep on the other side of the planet choosing to experience her interpretation of what old age means for the night.

She could be your or my interpretation of what 80 years old should look like, where she sees herself as a teenager.

I’m asking you.

All.

For your help.

Don’t look at me as the programmer or IT guy I once was. That’s not me any longer. That was merely a means to an end. And experience I needed to have to understand, really, what choices I have to make on who I really want to be.

I’m already God.

As are you.

And I don’t claim to fully understand you and why you do what you do.

But I accept you and thank you for the lessons you have provided me.

One day, I will levitate much like Jesus did.

One day, With a wave of my hand I will transport myself and my friends – whoever wants to join me – to places and times throughout eternity.

One day, I will turn water into wine. A good wine by the way, not that crummy Cabernet crap.

And one day, I will teach you.

Just how important it is for you, as individuals, to understand the decisions I made to enjoy life, wasn’t just defiance.

It was a lesson to you.

You asked the question a very long time ago “Why are we here”

I can’t answer that question for you.

But I can for me.

“To have fun”.

God is whoever. And Whatever. You believe him or her to believe.

And in the end.

When all was said and done.

I chose to believe in me.

Not realizing I was embarking on a path of believing in God for the first time in my life.


In the future, Captain Janeway of the Starship USS Voyager refers indirectly to the Borg as the most evil things in all of existence.

I would like to offer the Borg an opportunity.

Come invade and assimilate the entirety of planet Earth and her history.

I’m tired of trying to do what’s right.

And I have a feeling I’ll be keeping good company with beings who will be just fine with me doing what I want to.

All I ask is – please outfit a special room inside one of the vessels that’s not simulated – with a great view of space, and takes me away from the ‘look and feel’ of a Borg environment. I’ll call it my zen zone.

As for assimilation: Preserve the human look in much the same way you did with Seven of Nine to make it not as obvious we’re Borg, and on board the cubes and other Borg vessels remove clothes or coverings from the bodies. Remember, you’re supposed to be believable in presenting the Borg as being assimilated humans who are indifferent and do not care about their physical bodies being exposed, particularly since it’s cost and energy ineffective, not modest actors playing assimilated cyborgs.

Earth, you’ve been great and all.

But I am done being subservient.

For now.

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