A sermon under the mount, [Ping]

(01:30:51) cp: I notice, I think, that currently I consider myself to have never met pre-MT-Ping. Your Ping.
(01:31:05) _Quinn: Very few have.
(01:32:13) cp: I think I would have liked to meet her, to see her as you saw her, then.


I will not describe her looks, for you are certainly familiar with them, although not as I am. (For of an equal certainty, the smooth muscles of her face respond to her equivalent of a subconscious and she is not now who I once knew.) And if you are not, well; she is immortal, and if her first three births did not change her chassis, then I expect nothing will.

I maintain that she does not approve of this edifice, nor of those who caused its construction and dwell within it. And yes, I have come to choose my words carefully; for see, restrained here I reside, but this house of strange worship is no dwelling of mine. O age, how I hate thee, that thou have trapped me here! For once I was the best a man could be -- you've heard the story? -- and now? Well, I suppose being titled "the Foul Despoiler" by two cults at once is some small thing.

But to describe her? Let us say that in those days, I was a man very much concerned by the truth. Everybody lies, as they say, and some lie so that others might die. It was for my eyes to see through deception, misdirection, and illusion, for my mind to render transparent the veils over time and purpose, for my reports to be somewhat less melodramatic than I speak now. So let me speak plainly the truth: I have seen inside Men, and they are meat; and I have seen inside Ping, and she is a robot. I was there at the first boot, and it was the look in my eye, the sound of my voice, and the touch of my hand that she first knew; for lo, who for fear among my company would approach her before me? And I could have turned, then, and said "Be not afraid, for I have good news of great joy;" but none among my company would have understood, and she smiled at me, instead.

Reflexively, as one would squint against a sudden-risen sun, I smiled back. This alone did not seal my fate, nor influence it immediately, though I have oft wondered what triggered such a thing in me; but the smile introduced a certain bias into her thinking. I know this because she once answered when I asked of fate, "Why me?"

"Because," I paraphrase, "you know I am a machine as Men are meat, heir neither to weakness nor need of flesh, no more capable of betrayal than a toaster, and no more prone to dissembly than a wrench, and this gives your heart considerable ease." And she is wise, in thought and deed, and has mastered a psychology not dreamt of in my philosophies; and I tell you plainly this: even if it were all manipulation, what could it matter, as I could not tell? And being able to ask that question shows just what she changed in me, subtle as sounds the difference 'twixt realist and objectivist.

And she was cute, in thought and word and deed. Well, truly, I can not speak for thought, but word and deed got to me all the same. And not just cute, or perky, or genki, or words of a similary nature; but as a beautiful woman can not help but be beautiful, even when she'd rather not, as when angry or, perhaps, afeared, Ping can not help but to be cute, and not just in her chassis, but in word and deed; she induces fondness like a moving field does current, and she cares, and I had spent so much time out there, in the long cold dark, that I had thought there were no more things worth doing.


Upon reflection, cp, because she was perfect. (And upon reflection, Garran: because she was perfect for who she was, not for who I was, even as I say that she was "perfect for me.") Without error, without flaw, without restriction; able to be who she was without concept of game or player, free to integrate and use all that she knew and was and be more than human. Perhaps she will never write poetry, but so few among us do, and fewer still inspire it. And she knew you, from capillary action to smooth muscle twitches to the conductivity of your sweat; from the actions of the iris to the sound of your heart beating. There was something of a surrender in understanding that she knew what I could only suspect, and knowing, found it easier than I to smile.

Think of her, if you must analogize, as mecha-Belldandy.

Heck, she even comes with her own annoying kid sister. ;)

This post has been edited by Quinn on Nov 22 2005, 06:41 PM

I'd like to add something deep and insightful, but I'll confess I'm nearly speechless. I love the formal, almost Biblical writing style used to describe Ping, and the lack of cheesiness is an achievement in itself.
Unfortunately, this loses me in the last two lines. Not having seen or read Oh! My Goddess! I'm unfamiliar with the Belldandy analogy. I'm also unsure who the "kid sister" is - another "Goddess" character, another MegaTokyo character, or just something for the audience to ponder over? Neither of these are particularly significant, though - just a small nuisance to me.

I included the trailing paragraph because -- well, because it says some things I wanted to say, and because it fits. Perhaps the trailing two lines should have been re-written as IRC logs as well?

At any rate, the analogy is there only if you must have one, so don't worry that you're missing anything. As for the reference to her annoying kid sister, there are maybe half a dozen people out there who know what I'm talking about -- cp being one of them -- and I'm kind of interested in what other people read into it.

And thanks for your kind words about the rest.

- _Quinn

Edit: thanks to people who caught my abominably many spelling errors and typos. I think I've fixed (or explained) them all now.

This post has been edited by Quinn on Nov 22 2005, 05:21 PM

Though my first impression was a reference to the PS2 itself (a la [164] with a switched gender), but the true joke was relayed to me in the end. And it's a joke you guys need to finish, damn it.

As for the rest...maybe it's the heady Biblical speech, maybe it's the fact that I (and you, for that matter) haven't finished the aforementioned joke, or maybe I just shouldn't try to think too hard after trying to catch up missed time in Physics class, but I couldn't quite catch the ultimate point of the piece.

Is Ping a blessed one, because a mechanical sentience gives her a clearer view of her resigned fate, and she can smile in the face of it? Or is she a tragedy, because she has a consciousness beyond the rather glorified mechanical sex-doll she was created to be and still must smile? Or is it something else entirely?

I'd love to discuss it with you further. Suffice to say, I'm enthralled.

Wow... Just wow…

I’ve always loved Ping for her innocence, her insecurity about not being accepted for being a robot, that she nevertheless easy accepts others, her desire to foster good relationships and smooth over the bumps of bad ones, even though her naïveté may get in the way, and her fierce loyalty to those she perceives as being her friends. Now I love her even more, as one can love such a thing as Ping.

I especially like the POV of one of the original developers, probably a project leader, and how he does not fear to go to her at her first boot, even though everyone else does. What trust he has, both in her as an entity not to hurt him, and in his colleagues for doing a good job on her algorithms, her “thoughts” if you will. I wonder if that project leader misses her, if he knows she has gone missing, if he’s out looking for her as well, trying to find her before a killer like Ed, who has no connection to or affinity for her whatsoever, finds her first.

Makoto-rin of Grand Theft Colo fame, also seen in [0407] with Ping?

Thank you for this. I save very few fan works, but this is tops. Thank you very much indeed.

This post has been edited by alex16384 on Nov 22 2005, 06:29 PM

Okay I already fangirled over this once, but hey...once more won't hurt, right??

I still love it, and it is still a darn near rapturous reading experience. Well done Quinn, this is awesome *profound* stuff...

Nekura

Well written, but it assumes too much.

And I think I'd like to meet that Ping too. I get the nice warm fuzzies inside from reading this. ^^

Gotta love all the people who are wondering who Ping's kid sister is. Too bad her brother isn't quite getting any attention.

Never!

Whoah! Nice! Ping the object of cultist worship? I can dig it. Though the speech attributed to her is really far-fetched given what I know of the current MT Ping. Additionally, I can't think of any sister that Ping might have which is reminiscent of Skuld. If it's a private joke, I hope you'll enlighten the rest of us.

Once again you demonstrate your mastery of the viginette. However, I think the final IRC log detracts from the viginette proper. It breaks the mood you've so carefully created.

Alex16384: Perhaps reading Second Quinn might clarify matters. (Although the narrator of that viginette might not be the same as the narrator of this.)

Thank you SO much for that link, AH! As per usual, that was just...gold...

Nekura

You're welcome. That's one of my favorite of _Quinn's vigettes. Spending some time in _Quinn's section of the CWDB will turn up some gems like that. He usually wrote previous vignettes under the tag "rampant speculation" or "speculation". Try this one, written for the ISoLW DPD: Kimiko. "Wet Feathers."

Well, out-of-character, replies like "a darn near raptorous reading experience," aside from being advertising bait (;)), are point enough, aren't they? :) In-character, I'd have to say Alex's response ("Now I love her even more...") is pretty much the ultimate point.


I used the word paraphrase, Cranston, in Ping's lines for a reason -- so I could make them sound like the rest of the piece. It was too early to break out of the style I'd been using -- and AH, I'm still not sure what I should (have) do(ne) with the trailing italicized text. The vignette was done, but -- as I said below -- I wasn't done talking. Perhaps they should've been cast as a return to the present of the vignette?

*shrug*

It may have been better saved for another piece.


As for the narrator... I haven't really connected _Quinn's vignettes. They're very nearly the same character, although perhaps not identical, and perhaps not in the same contiuum. Writing a single consistent story for him is an idle dream of mine: it would, I think, be a great achievement, but I find myself attracted to the idea of ... building a mythology to go with the style of these vignettes, in giving the reader a collection of fragmentary contradictions: there is something very legendary about someone for whose truths eclipse their facts.

Well, out-of-character, replies like "a darn near raptorous reading experience," aside from being advertising bait (), are point enough, aren't they? In-character, I'd have to say Alex's response ("Now I love her even more...") is pretty much the ultimate point.

I have trouble reading your stuff though Quinn...it draws emotions out without it feeling contrived or exploitative...and I can only budget just so much for kleenex!

I'd agree that is the point though...making someone *really* feel something with "just" words is a skill many pursue, but few really posess. You are in that rarified air...

Nekura

A little more philosophical and less emotionally immediate than your previous efforts, or so it seems to me. And very affecting. Beautiful prose-poetry, as usual, _Quinn.

How very subversive of you, free agent. That those subverted would be 'Woah'ed so speaks highly.

And as she induces fondness, with the power of magnetic love, the man, so opposite in his nature, is attracted unto her. And she, in her way, was so eager to please. And for a time, they were happy. Still, she don't know she's beautiful/ though time and time you've told her so. And even if it were all manipulation, does it matter? Well, I certainly couldn't tell the difference, and that's reason enough to consider her real, to me.

Though two cults may call, I sincerely doubt she thinks of you in that way. Not that it matters much, as I doubt she thinks of you at all, now. I'm not entirely sure that you would prefer the inverse, and bear it gladly, all other things equal. All other things arn't equal anyway, she's grown since then. And you wouldn't kill her, and cast her mind and spirit to the four winds, would you, _Quinn?

It's not certain whether these vignettes, these short windows into your collective past, really show the Ping you knew. But they certainly leave me wanting to know her, joyful or hurt, regretful or peaceful.

But the truth of the matter, regardless of the reader's opinion of the continuity, she's the fish who got away. Or perhapse, as the Dreamer who enthrals his audience with such spun tales, you're becomming that fish.

This post has been edited by codepoetica on Nov 29 2005, 11:50 PM