First thoughts

As behavioural and belief systems dry under the stark scrutiny of evolving objectivity, the human forebrain is suffering worrisome realization of the frailty and  finality of its condition. Our self-taught fantasy of  a holy and unique ability "to think" is being overcome and diminished by the admission that  electronic and animal intelligence is not different in type, and at best only in degree from our own.  Yet we must compete in this new ephemeral milieu against our old foes, the uncaring cosmos and the new rival--machines.  A  thin  prospect of survival resides in protecting our environs against the loosened aggression of silicon bureaucracy.

The suspect dare to the brain comes within.  Culture is a deep  smiling inhalation of  eau de glamour, of stacked delusions,  but comprehension, divinity  and the body are pink sheers  for hanging flesh breathing to a deadline set for two trapped gooey mayonnaise shots in the cubicle brain, laying on bone, in the dark. 

 How I cross others.

The great shock to wise tales is not that  appearances are decieving, but that we are all the same with no mote of contrast.  A protoplasmic smear through a few  decades, Scarlett Johansson notwithstanding.