“That’s what troubles me.”
He looked at me steadily.
“The future belongs to the untroubled,” he said.
X-5
They had restored direct New York-Detroit train service in 1983. It was the southern route, via Philadelphia, Canton, and Toledo, Ohio. I took the Bullet Train. It was gas-turbine-powered, with a linear motor. We moved at 480 kph, riding on a cushion of air about 1.5 cm above the track. Beautifully smooth, quiet, comfortable. The service in the dining car was excellent, the food detestable. But no one complained. They had no basis for comparison.
I had taken a compartment. This was a threeday, but I had brought along a case of papers, film spindles, tapes. Fortunately, I didn’t need to carry clothing or toilet accessories. I kept a civilian wardrobe and complete kit in my suite in my parents’ home.
The morning I returned to GPA-1, three days hence, I would be expected to attend the monthly executive conference of Satisfaction Section. This was, of course, ruled by Angela Berri, DEPDIRSAT. Present would be the Assistant Deputy Directors of her four divisions. The five of us (DIVLEG had two Assistant Deputy Directors) would sit facing Angela across the white plastiglass table in the conference room. Behind each of us would be seated our Executive Assistant. In my case, that would be Paul Bumford.
Angela Teresa Berri was a rigorously efficient manager. Each Division was allowed ten minutes, no more, no less, to present and discuss a single topic.
The topic I had selected for discussion in this particular meeting was Project Supersense.
Almost fifty years ago, neurosurgeons believed they had isolated “pleasure centers” in the human brain that could be excited by implanted electrodes. It became obvious, years later, that the term “pleasure center” was something of a misnomer; there was no single center of pleasure in human brains, or even in a single brain. Pleasure was generated in a series of “islands of concentration” in the pathway leading from the forepart of the hypothalamus to the cortex. Tickle one, and the object was no longer thirsty. Excite another, and hunger was satisfied. Titillate a third, electrically or chemically, and sexual pleasure was produced.
After lengthy experimentation on animals, a technique was evolved by which needle-thin electrodes could be implanted in the human brain. Energizing the titanium-alloy electrodes with a mild electric current gave the object a feeling of well-being. One neuroscientist termed it “reward” rather than “pleasure.” Exact placement of the electrodes was crucial, but not as difficult as you might expect. During neurosurgery, the object might be administered an anesthetic sufficient only to allow cutting through the scalp and drilling a hole in the skull.
Once the surgeon was through the meninges, the patient could be conscious and responsive during surgery. Fortunately, the stuff of the brain itself cannot register pain. So a surgeon implanting electrodes could probe and test, probe and test, asking the wide-eyed object, “There? There? What do you feel? What’s happening? Are you happy?”
Originally, after correct emplacement, these electrodes were fixed with glue to the object’s skull, with a bit protruding beyond the scalp. Wires were attached to carry the required electric current. Later, using hardware developed in the space program, a microminiaturized radio receiver, battery-powered, was taped to the object’s skull. Upon receipt of a radio signal, it stimulated the object’s “pleasure centers.” Thus he was ambulatory, free from entangling wires.
Still later, a microminiaturized radio transmitter, battery-powered, was attached to his belt. The receiver was implanted beneath his scalp for cosmetic reasons. An object could now stimulate his own brain, giving himself a jolt of pleasure, or reward, by pressing a button on his belt kit.
The purpose of all this research and development was therapeutic, to relieve the
He looked at me steadily.
“The future belongs to the untroubled,” he said.
X-5
They had restored direct New York-Detroit train service in 1983. It was the southern route, via Philadelphia, Canton, and Toledo, Ohio. I took the Bullet Train. It was gas-turbine-powered, with a linear motor. We moved at 480 kph, riding on a cushion of air about 1.5 cm above the track. Beautifully smooth, quiet, comfortable. The service in the dining car was excellent, the food detestable. But no one complained. They had no basis for comparison.
I had taken a compartment. This was a threeday, but I had brought along a case of papers, film spindles, tapes. Fortunately, I didn’t need to carry clothing or toilet accessories. I kept a civilian wardrobe and complete kit in my suite in my parents’ home.
The morning I returned to GPA-1, three days hence, I would be expected to attend the monthly executive conference of Satisfaction Section. This was, of course, ruled by Angela Berri, DEPDIRSAT. Present would be the Assistant Deputy Directors of her four divisions. The five of us (DIVLEG had two Assistant Deputy Directors) would sit facing Angela across the white plastiglass table in the conference room. Behind each of us would be seated our Executive Assistant. In my case, that would be Paul Bumford.
Angela Teresa Berri was a rigorously efficient manager. Each Division was allowed ten minutes, no more, no less, to present and discuss a single topic.
The topic I had selected for discussion in this particular meeting was Project Supersense.
Almost fifty years ago, neurosurgeons believed they had isolated “pleasure centers” in the human brain that could be excited by implanted electrodes. It became obvious, years later, that the term “pleasure center” was something of a misnomer; there was no single center of pleasure in human brains, or even in a single brain. Pleasure was generated in a series of “islands of concentration” in the pathway leading from the forepart of the hypothalamus to the cortex. Tickle one, and the object was no longer thirsty. Excite another, and hunger was satisfied. Titillate a third, electrically or chemically, and sexual pleasure was produced.
After lengthy experimentation on animals, a technique was evolved by which needle-thin electrodes could be implanted in the human brain. Energizing the titanium-alloy electrodes with a mild electric current gave the object a feeling of well-being. One neuroscientist termed it “reward” rather than “pleasure.” Exact placement of the electrodes was crucial, but not as difficult as you might expect. During neurosurgery, the object might be administered an anesthetic sufficient only to allow cutting through the scalp and drilling a hole in the skull.
Once the surgeon was through the meninges, the patient could be conscious and responsive during surgery. Fortunately, the stuff of the brain itself cannot register pain. So a surgeon implanting electrodes could probe and test, probe and test, asking the wide-eyed object, “There? There? What do you feel? What’s happening? Are you happy?”
Originally, after correct emplacement, these electrodes were fixed with glue to the object’s skull, with a bit protruding beyond the scalp. Wires were attached to carry the required electric current. Later, using hardware developed in the space program, a microminiaturized radio receiver, battery-powered, was taped to the object’s skull. Upon receipt of a radio signal, it stimulated the object’s “pleasure centers.” Thus he was ambulatory, free from entangling wires.
Still later, a microminiaturized radio transmitter, battery-powered, was attached to his belt. The receiver was implanted beneath his scalp for cosmetic reasons. An object could now stimulate his own brain, giving himself a jolt of pleasure, or reward, by pressing a button on his belt kit.
The purpose of all this research and development was therapeutic, to relieve the
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