Omnipotence 101. (Multiple prompts.)
Feb. 11th, 2009 02:04 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
qcontinuumOOC Note: crossposted from ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
realmof_themuse today.
2009.1 A.4. Can you snap your fingers and get what you desire? If not, is that something that you would enjoy?
Yes. Actually, yes, as a matter of fact I can.
And for those of you wondering if you’d enjoy it if you had it? Trust me, it’s great.
2009.3.D.2. Nearly all men can stand adversity, but if you want to test a man's character, give him power. – Abraham Lincoln
2009.5.C.3. abiogenesis
But most of you couldn’t be trusted with it.
Here’s the thing about power. It’s relative. If you’re human, think how much power you have over a mouse. Now, when was the last time you felt like dominating a mouse to prove what a big bad powerful person you are?
I am, for all intents and purposes, omnipotent. My people, the Q Continuum, have total control over matter and energy. I can create an entire planet out of nothingness, if I choose. I can create life forms – birds, insects, dogs, cats. People. Admittedly I usually go out of my way to make sure they’re not very smart people, but I can spontaneously generate people if I want to. I can duplicate an existing mortal, or annihilate one… or trillions. I can do virtually anything I want. I am, by your standards, a god.
You imagine yourself with such power. “I could become wealthy beyond my wildest dreams!” Why would you need money? Anything you want you can instantly have; you don’t need to pay for it. “I could have any woman I wanted!” If you mind control them into loving you, or create imaginary women who want you, it’s masturbation. Not that masturbation can’t be entertaining, in small doses, but you’ll find it gets very tedious very quickly. “I could have power over my fellow man!” And you’d quickly realize that your fellow man is so pathetic there’s no longer any thrill to having power over them. “I could change the world!” You sure can. But change it to what? It’s not as easy as you think to rewrite a world into being a better place, even with godlike power.
I have lived my entire existence around other beings who have equal power. To me, this is nothing special. I have no desire to have mortals worship me, or kneel at my feet, or sing my praises, any more than you want mice to burn incense at an altar to you. Why do you care what mice do? Some might make good pets, and those, you probably care about, but there’s no need to make mice kneel to you and no particularly good reason to try to run their little mouse lives for them. You’ll let them do their little mousy thing, and if they eat too much of the cheese in your pantry you’ll annihilate them, and if they’re cute you make pets of them. You don’t demand sex from them, you don’t order them to tell you how wonderful you are, you don’t blast them to bits because they didn’t speak to you with respect.
If you gave a mouse the intelligence of a human, he might well lord it over his fellow mice, using his superior intellect to dominate them, until he figured out what you already know… they’re just mice. They’re not worth his time. But in the meantime, how many mice would he have killed, harmed or made unhappy?
Sometimes we choose to make a mortal one of us. But usually, the mortal is chosen very carefully, tested quite extensively, before we make that decision. Because power corrupts, and while absolute power is indeed quite nifty, it can corrupt absolutely, as your philosophers say. We are not corrupted by our power because for us, it’s not power. It’s basic abilities, taken for granted as much as you take for granted your ability to see. The true test of a being’s ability to handle power comes when they have been powerless, and rise to have power… and most fail that test.
2009.6.B.2. Someone in your life needs your protection, in a split second. Only you, and you alone, can protect them. How do you do that?
Now I admit it. I do have pets. But not the way humans have pets, because when you talk to your pets, they don’t talk back, and most of you fear that if you let your pets run wild, taking care of themselves, they’ll have no need for you. And your power differential with your pets isn’t actually great enough that you can just come back into their lives if they choose to run off.
I have mortals I watch, whose adventures I enjoy. I have mortals I like to interact with, to stir the pot a little. And I have mortals I actually care about, who I’d rather not see harmed. But here’s the thing about power. Using power on the powerless to transform their lives distorts their lives. They lose the ability to live for themselves when you direct every aspect of their lives for them, and they become your puppets. And if I wanted puppets, I could just make some. The mortals that interest me are interesting because they’re unpredictable, because they come up with clever ways to solve problems with their limited scope of abilities. If I stepped in and solved all their problems for them, it wouldn’t matter how much they wanted to be independent… they would lose their independence, and become totally dependent on me.
My favorite mortals actually lead very risky lives. Time and time again they’ve been in situations that could kill them. My favorite has been kidnapped and tortured, lost his family in a fire, has been nearly killed several times (once by his own clone)… and he always finds a way to get out of it. Sometimes people he loves die to save him, but so far, he himself has survived.
He did die, one time. I saved him. He’s not entirely sure whether I actually saved his life or whether his doctor friend did.
Another time… another time something horrible beyond words happened to him, and I couldn’t protect him, because I’d been ordered not to and I was afraid. And he got out of it okay in the end, but it’s scarred him forever. That’s my fault, and as much as I try not to feel guilty for anything I do… that one bothers me.
So I’ve decided, very quietly, that I am simply not going to let him die, until old age takes him. There are tiny ways I can do it. Split-second quantum occurrences that can go in his favor. Destructive spatial anomalies in his path that just don’t have to be there. Injuries that could have crushed his skull or broken his spine, just barely missing that level.
If he knew I wouldn’t let him die, he would be angry. And he’d be angry that I don’t extend my protection to his friends and family, and he’d be angry with himself for being angry about that. And he’d take risks he shouldn’t, and shoulder burdens his friends should be carrying, in the knowledge that they can die and he can’t. And he might test me. And most of all it would make him deeply unhappy.
So he’s not going to know. I maintain perfect plausible deniability. I can’t save him from anything except death; he’d know it if I tried. But he can’t tell the difference between luck, and me fixing the dice.
2009.6.C.3. "I can only save you by teaching you how to save yourself."
Manifest a fish for a mortal, and they might eat at that very minute. Teach a mortal to fish, and they’ll eat fish whenever they’re hungry, but they’re going to come back to you when they want to know how to raise squash and carrots, or build a hut, or whatever ridiculous thing they want to know how to do this week. But terrorize them into falling into a river full of tasty but vicious fish, while they happen to be carrying a spear, and you can engineer it so they learn how to catch fish without realizing that you were behind it.
When I’m interested in protecting a mortal, or a species of mortals, most of the time, I don’t go as far as I do with my favorite. I don’t actually do a damn thing to protect them. Nor do I benevolently educate them on how to protect themselves, because I’m not Gandalf, or Merlin. Ever notice that in the stories, the benevolent mentor always ends up dying, or being thought dead for half the story, or getting magicked to sleep, or something? The writers understand – people need to stand on their own feet, and as long as the kindly mentor is around to ask for advice, they won’t.
So I’m the bad guy. I’m the demon who threatens to carry you all off into Hell so you figure out space travel to escape me, and thus evade the supernova you didn’t know was coming. I’m the glowing ball of light who knows you’re going to get your brains eaten by a telepathic predator if you don’t learn how to link your minds to one another, so I set up a test that forces you to do it if you want to survive. When the men of your planet are going to blow up every living thing on it in nuclear fire because they have a psychotic belief that doing so will give them eternal paradise in the afterlife, I talk them into buying bioweapons from me instead, weapons I promise them will strike down the enemy men… and so all the men on your planet die and the women are forced to grow a spine and start taking care of themselves and never let psycho sadists take over your world again. When you’re all going to use your newfound psionic powers to fight each other and rip your world to pieces, I’ll come be the alien threat that promises to eat your world, and make you all learn to work together and fight me off.
When I slip up and do it the other way – when I give gifts, when I seem benevolent, when I turn a destructive asteroid into water or hand out a magic potion that kills the invaders or free the slaves and transport them all to safety – people worship me. And they call on me for help every damn time they run into trouble. It’s not my job to protect you people. I’m not your god. Stop praying to me, idiots, or I will make you regret it. Learn to solve your own problems. Or I will solve them for you in a way you won't like at all.
Muse: Q
Fandom: Star Trek TNG
Words: 1700
realmof_themuse today.2009.1 A.4. Can you snap your fingers and get what you desire? If not, is that something that you would enjoy?
Yes. Actually, yes, as a matter of fact I can.
And for those of you wondering if you’d enjoy it if you had it? Trust me, it’s great.
2009.3.D.2. Nearly all men can stand adversity, but if you want to test a man's character, give him power. – Abraham Lincoln
2009.5.C.3. abiogenesis
But most of you couldn’t be trusted with it.
Here’s the thing about power. It’s relative. If you’re human, think how much power you have over a mouse. Now, when was the last time you felt like dominating a mouse to prove what a big bad powerful person you are?
I am, for all intents and purposes, omnipotent. My people, the Q Continuum, have total control over matter and energy. I can create an entire planet out of nothingness, if I choose. I can create life forms – birds, insects, dogs, cats. People. Admittedly I usually go out of my way to make sure they’re not very smart people, but I can spontaneously generate people if I want to. I can duplicate an existing mortal, or annihilate one… or trillions. I can do virtually anything I want. I am, by your standards, a god.
You imagine yourself with such power. “I could become wealthy beyond my wildest dreams!” Why would you need money? Anything you want you can instantly have; you don’t need to pay for it. “I could have any woman I wanted!” If you mind control them into loving you, or create imaginary women who want you, it’s masturbation. Not that masturbation can’t be entertaining, in small doses, but you’ll find it gets very tedious very quickly. “I could have power over my fellow man!” And you’d quickly realize that your fellow man is so pathetic there’s no longer any thrill to having power over them. “I could change the world!” You sure can. But change it to what? It’s not as easy as you think to rewrite a world into being a better place, even with godlike power.
I have lived my entire existence around other beings who have equal power. To me, this is nothing special. I have no desire to have mortals worship me, or kneel at my feet, or sing my praises, any more than you want mice to burn incense at an altar to you. Why do you care what mice do? Some might make good pets, and those, you probably care about, but there’s no need to make mice kneel to you and no particularly good reason to try to run their little mouse lives for them. You’ll let them do their little mousy thing, and if they eat too much of the cheese in your pantry you’ll annihilate them, and if they’re cute you make pets of them. You don’t demand sex from them, you don’t order them to tell you how wonderful you are, you don’t blast them to bits because they didn’t speak to you with respect.
If you gave a mouse the intelligence of a human, he might well lord it over his fellow mice, using his superior intellect to dominate them, until he figured out what you already know… they’re just mice. They’re not worth his time. But in the meantime, how many mice would he have killed, harmed or made unhappy?
Sometimes we choose to make a mortal one of us. But usually, the mortal is chosen very carefully, tested quite extensively, before we make that decision. Because power corrupts, and while absolute power is indeed quite nifty, it can corrupt absolutely, as your philosophers say. We are not corrupted by our power because for us, it’s not power. It’s basic abilities, taken for granted as much as you take for granted your ability to see. The true test of a being’s ability to handle power comes when they have been powerless, and rise to have power… and most fail that test.
2009.6.B.2. Someone in your life needs your protection, in a split second. Only you, and you alone, can protect them. How do you do that?
Now I admit it. I do have pets. But not the way humans have pets, because when you talk to your pets, they don’t talk back, and most of you fear that if you let your pets run wild, taking care of themselves, they’ll have no need for you. And your power differential with your pets isn’t actually great enough that you can just come back into their lives if they choose to run off.
I have mortals I watch, whose adventures I enjoy. I have mortals I like to interact with, to stir the pot a little. And I have mortals I actually care about, who I’d rather not see harmed. But here’s the thing about power. Using power on the powerless to transform their lives distorts their lives. They lose the ability to live for themselves when you direct every aspect of their lives for them, and they become your puppets. And if I wanted puppets, I could just make some. The mortals that interest me are interesting because they’re unpredictable, because they come up with clever ways to solve problems with their limited scope of abilities. If I stepped in and solved all their problems for them, it wouldn’t matter how much they wanted to be independent… they would lose their independence, and become totally dependent on me.
My favorite mortals actually lead very risky lives. Time and time again they’ve been in situations that could kill them. My favorite has been kidnapped and tortured, lost his family in a fire, has been nearly killed several times (once by his own clone)… and he always finds a way to get out of it. Sometimes people he loves die to save him, but so far, he himself has survived.
He did die, one time. I saved him. He’s not entirely sure whether I actually saved his life or whether his doctor friend did.
Another time… another time something horrible beyond words happened to him, and I couldn’t protect him, because I’d been ordered not to and I was afraid. And he got out of it okay in the end, but it’s scarred him forever. That’s my fault, and as much as I try not to feel guilty for anything I do… that one bothers me.
So I’ve decided, very quietly, that I am simply not going to let him die, until old age takes him. There are tiny ways I can do it. Split-second quantum occurrences that can go in his favor. Destructive spatial anomalies in his path that just don’t have to be there. Injuries that could have crushed his skull or broken his spine, just barely missing that level.
If he knew I wouldn’t let him die, he would be angry. And he’d be angry that I don’t extend my protection to his friends and family, and he’d be angry with himself for being angry about that. And he’d take risks he shouldn’t, and shoulder burdens his friends should be carrying, in the knowledge that they can die and he can’t. And he might test me. And most of all it would make him deeply unhappy.
So he’s not going to know. I maintain perfect plausible deniability. I can’t save him from anything except death; he’d know it if I tried. But he can’t tell the difference between luck, and me fixing the dice.
2009.6.C.3. "I can only save you by teaching you how to save yourself."
Manifest a fish for a mortal, and they might eat at that very minute. Teach a mortal to fish, and they’ll eat fish whenever they’re hungry, but they’re going to come back to you when they want to know how to raise squash and carrots, or build a hut, or whatever ridiculous thing they want to know how to do this week. But terrorize them into falling into a river full of tasty but vicious fish, while they happen to be carrying a spear, and you can engineer it so they learn how to catch fish without realizing that you were behind it.
When I’m interested in protecting a mortal, or a species of mortals, most of the time, I don’t go as far as I do with my favorite. I don’t actually do a damn thing to protect them. Nor do I benevolently educate them on how to protect themselves, because I’m not Gandalf, or Merlin. Ever notice that in the stories, the benevolent mentor always ends up dying, or being thought dead for half the story, or getting magicked to sleep, or something? The writers understand – people need to stand on their own feet, and as long as the kindly mentor is around to ask for advice, they won’t.
So I’m the bad guy. I’m the demon who threatens to carry you all off into Hell so you figure out space travel to escape me, and thus evade the supernova you didn’t know was coming. I’m the glowing ball of light who knows you’re going to get your brains eaten by a telepathic predator if you don’t learn how to link your minds to one another, so I set up a test that forces you to do it if you want to survive. When the men of your planet are going to blow up every living thing on it in nuclear fire because they have a psychotic belief that doing so will give them eternal paradise in the afterlife, I talk them into buying bioweapons from me instead, weapons I promise them will strike down the enemy men… and so all the men on your planet die and the women are forced to grow a spine and start taking care of themselves and never let psycho sadists take over your world again. When you’re all going to use your newfound psionic powers to fight each other and rip your world to pieces, I’ll come be the alien threat that promises to eat your world, and make you all learn to work together and fight me off.
When I slip up and do it the other way – when I give gifts, when I seem benevolent, when I turn a destructive asteroid into water or hand out a magic potion that kills the invaders or free the slaves and transport them all to safety – people worship me. And they call on me for help every damn time they run into trouble. It’s not my job to protect you people. I’m not your god. Stop praying to me, idiots, or I will make you regret it. Learn to solve your own problems. Or I will solve them for you in a way you won't like at all.
Muse: Q
Fandom: Star Trek TNG
Words: 1700
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Re: Question:
Date: 2009-02-19 11:02 pm (UTC)Do we distinguish between adults and children? You bet your sweet bippy. Do we have ceremonies to mark a Q's transition into adulthood? A bar mitzvah perhaps, or a kahs'wan, or a quinceneria? No, the whole idea's ridiculous. A Q is an adult when the Continuum agrees that they are an adult, and accepts them as a full member of the Continuum with the same authority and privileges as any of us.
Re: Re: Question:
Date: 2009-02-19 11:31 pm (UTC)And I know who you are now, in the human world...
Re: Question:
Date: 2009-04-10 02:40 pm (UTC)Ah, I see. Well, to be honest we have the opposite problem from the one that article discusses. The only Q who can quite grasp that my son *is* a child and *shouldn't* be treated as a full adult Q who's unutterably stupid, instead of a perfectly intelligent child, are those who have dealings with him frequently -- myself, my ex, Amanda (who grew up around kids, having been born in a human body)... Most of the Q simply treat my son as if it's his fault that he doesn't have the maturity of an adult Q, as if he's defective instead of immature.
And I know who you are now, in the human world...
That's nice. Was it supposed to be a big secret, or something? It's on my profile page.