What do you do with a Broken Android?

That's what I asked myself once, as I lay sprawled on the couch sputtering as if I had tourette's. WestWorld was playing on the upside down TV, and Bernard was having issues. I'm almost sure that's what spawned the question. The TV wasn't upside down, the whole room was... or rather my manner of sprawl left my head so titled that my vision was inverted. I was also suffering from psilocybin poisoning(?).

Here's an Image to serve as post cover and to break up the text:

I mean, poisoning is a solid way of saying "suffering from the effects of to the point of nonfunctioning", right? Someone had spiked my drink with psilocybin mushrooms. That someone was my past self, but based on the way we say things - I'm supposed to say "that someone was 'me'". Well, I know we pretend 'me' is constant, but mine sure as fuck varies widely - and it is not at all uncommon for past-me to get present-me in some sticky situations.

As representative for the collective "me" with access to this set of memories, I was tripping balls on shrooms watching WestWorld.

As an aside - there's this part of that where they say humans weren't hard to figure out, there were like 8 basic personality models (iirc). The recent Batlestar Galactica had a similar number of cylon models. This points stick with me, I remain uncertain why.

Busted Down to Pre-Test

Sometime during the ride - thought I can't say whether it was before or after 'the question' - Bob's Burgers ended up on the television. There was a point I pointed my eyes at it, tried to watch-ish. Bob was on the screen, but he kept cycling through costumes. At one moment he was Santa Claus Bob, the next Police Man Bob - rapidly cycling.

From what I've taken away from Fractal Brain Theory - my neuronal clusters were taking guess at what I was seeing and they were competing for dominance - but something about the psilocybin let me see the process before it had decided what it was that I was seeing. It was like I got to see the competition - the neuronal guesses - in progress. Psilocybin had taken my perception, busted down to pre-test.

Tic Tic Tic

Whether in mimicry of tics I've seen manifested, or natural tic manifestation, I was clicking and sputtering when the Broken Bernard entered my stream of consciousness - so the question was self referential. It reminded me of a weird cartoon I saw on Netflix (that I tried to link for you could but couldn't adequately remember), of this girl who tells her life story and in part programs solar panel robots on the moon to be terrified of the ever encroaching darkness and write poetry.

I decided to let it just keep sputtering and putzing until it wound itself down. The unknowns of possibility a potentially greater mercy than merciful violence. I was reminded of this: