🙊 One Hundred Monkeys

by Preston Dennett

When you read this, I hope you take it seriously. I hope you take action to protect yourself. You are in danger. Please, before you dismiss this as the ravings of a lunatic, give me a moment to explain.

I found Taylor Beaumont in the basement of his Hollywood Hills home. He was huddled next to his desk, a bottle of whiskey in one hand, a gun in the other. Disheveled, unshaven, dirty.Clearly at the end of his rope, he looked a far cry from the brilliant neuroscientist I knew so well.

“Don’t come any closer,” he said. “You might kill me.”

I stepped back. “Hey, you called me, remember? What the hell is going on? Me? Kill you? Have you finally gone crazy?” There was a fine line between brilliance and madness, and Taylor had always been a few steps on the wrong side. I tried to remember why I remained friends with him.

“Hah! Maybe I have. But I don’t think so. I’m not sure you’re going to believe me, but if anyone would, Nathan, it would be you. Besides, I’ve got proof. And I have to tell someone before it’s too late.”

I pointed to the chair next to him. “I’m going to sit down. Don’t shoot me.”

Taylor laughed. “Me shoot you? You don’t understand, it’s you who will probably try to kill me. See, I’ve discovered something and now I’m going to be murdered for it. And you’re just as likely to do it as anyone else.”

“Okay,” I said. “Tell me what’s got you acting like a maniac.”

“Maniac? Me?” he said. “Did you see the camera-crew outside my house?”

“Yes. What’s that about?”

“It’s them, ah -- it…whoever’s trying to kill me.”

“Someone’s trying to kill you?”

“Haven’t you been listening?” Taylor said, taking another swig from his bottle. “I’m a dead man, that’s for sure. God, I don’t even know how to tell you… Where to begin..?”

“How about the beginning?”

“The beginning? Hah! I wish I knew when it began. I’m not really sure. At least a couple of months ago. Let’s see… first my housekeeper accidently put rat poison in my oatmeal. Then my neighbor nearly ran me over, again, accidentally. It’s always an accident. Well, I don’t believe that anymore. Something’s behind this, and I think I know who…or rather, what. And it wants me dead.”

“You’re not making much sense,” I pointed out, “and it’s not helping your case much. Who wants you dead, and why?”

“Who? Well…I have my theories. Why? It’s because of what I’ve discovered about mirror neurons. You know what those are, Nathan? There’s been a lot of excitement about them lately.”

“I’m an accountant, remember?”

Taylor smiled sardonically. “Right, I forget. You poor thing. We all have our flaws. You seem so normal. Let’s see, how can I explain it? See this whiskey I’m drinking?”

He took a gulp and I nodded cautiously.

“Well, it’s causing the neurons in my brain to fire and register the fact that I’m drinking whiskey. Simple, obvious. However, at the same time my neurons are going off, so are yours -- your mirror neurons, that is. They’re present in almost all animals: birds, reptiles, and of course, mammals. We humans have a lot of them. They are what allow us to learn, to imitate, to have empathy. They are the reason when one person yawns, so does another.”

“Okay,” I said. “So what?”

“Well, I’ve discovered something about them. See, the common belief is that mirror neurons will only fire when a creature is physically observing another. Well, my experiments have proven unequivocally that this is false, and that mirror neurons can fire quite independent of our five senses. Here’s how I found out. Every time we’d be getting a new batch of monkeys in the labs, the other monkeys -- the ones who were wired up -- their mirror neurons would start going crazy. And yet, the new monkeys hadn’t even arrived yet. They knew nothing about them, but their mirror neurons did. You know what this means?”

“Enlighten me,” I said.

“Telepathy,” Taylor crowed triumphantly. “Mind to mind transfer of information. Don’t you get it? This explains so many things. Not only does it explain telepathy, but it explains mob behavior. Essentially, everyone’s neurons become synchronized and reach a kind of resonance. It’s why we all think alike, why we behave like sheep. We’re hardwired for it. We’re forced to think alike whether we like it or not.”

“I see what you’re saying, I think,” I said, “but so what? We all think alike. We resonate. Is that so bad?”

“Don’t you get it? Do I have to spell it out? Let’s see… Are you aware of the phenomenon of simultaneous discovery?”

“Such as?”

“Such as all kinds of things. Pottery, for instance…discovered on separate sides of the world. So was calculus. The theory of evolution. The telephone was being developed by multiple people when Bell made it to the finish line first. It’s because we are not separate, see? We are a hive mind. It’s the hundredth monkey effect. I’ve figured it out.”

“Okay, let’s say I believe you,” I said, “this still doesn’t explain why you think everybody’s trying to kill you.”

“Not everybody,” said Taylor. “Just one…one entity. Oh, at first I thought it was everybody. I truly believed my housekeeper had it out for me. And that I must have pissed off my neighbor. But when it kept happening, I realized it wasn’t true. It wasn’t just one person. It was everybody. I mean, it could have been you.”

“Me? Why would I want to kill you?”

“Oh, not consciously, of course, but subconsciously. It’s those darn mirror neurons. You have no idea how much of our behavior is subconscious, automatic, reflexive. Why do you think sports are so popular? Why do so many people idolize celebrities? How come religion has such a hold on people? Don’t you get it? It’s controlling us. We’re sheep, all of us. We don’t think for ourselves, not really. We’re just cogs in the machine…one cell in a much larger body. Think about it. Just reflect on it for a second. Our lives are almost completely ruled by the other people in our lives. Our likes and dislikes, our hopes and fears, they mean nothing without other people. We live for each other, Nathan. We’re hardwired that way. We can’t help it. We’re like a school of fish or a flock of birds. Only we’re being controlled. Most people don’t realize it, but it’s true. And I’ve figured out its secret. I know who it is. I figured it out, Nathan. I know who’s trying to kill me.”

“Who?” I asked, unsure if I really wanted to know.

“It’s us,” said Taylor. “You, my neighbor, my housekeeper, me -- well, not me, but everybody else. Humanity is a creature, Nathan, a sentient aware entity above and beyond the individual human. The sum is greater than the parts. It is an independent entity that is way beyond our own ability of comprehension. It has its own mind. It has a body…oh, not like ours, but it has a body. It has a circulatory system, a brain, arms, legs. It has eyes, Nathan. Even now, it’s outside of my house spying on me.”

“You mean the news crew?” I looked nervously at his gun, wondering if I could disarm him.

“Exactly,” he said. “Don’t you get it? It’s trying to kill me, Nathan. It knows I’ve discovered its secret and it’s trying to kill me. It looks at me like a cancer, an errant cell.. It can’t let me survive. I must be destroyed.”

I shook my head. “I don’t think so, Taylor, you know what I think? I think you’ve worked too hard. I think you’ve been thinking too much. In fact, you’ve thought so much, that you’ve finally gone over the edge. Do you have any idea what you sound like? I’ll tell you: paranoid. Humanity is a sentient creature and it’s out to kill you? Really? And why? Because you’ve discovered its existence? Have I got it right?”

“Yes, that’s about it. Except for the paranoid part.” Taylor looked wounded. “I thought maybe you would be open-minded enough to believe me, to see the truth.”

“I see the truth, all right. You’re crazy, Taylor. You’ve finally gone over the edge. I’m sorry for you, but I can’t say I’m surprised. You’ve always been a little out there.”

“I’m telling the truth.” He looked down at his gun and back up at me.

“Okay. Whatever you say. Fine. So what, you go ahead and tell me? What am I supposed to say? Thanks for letting me know?”

“I had to tell someone. I can’t fight it anymore.”

“Well, I’m sorry, Taylor. I can’t help you.” I stood up and spread my arms, trying to look non-threatening.

That’s when it happened: the impossible freak accident. I hadn’t tied my shoelace. I meant to, but somehow it just slipped my mind. I was angry. I tried to step backward. It all happened so quickly. I found myself stumbling.

Taylor just sat there, a resigned look on his face.

I crashed into him, knocking him over, banging his head against the floor, crushing his skull. The gun flew from his hand and fired into the wall. The bullet actually grazed my head.

I fell to the ground, ears ringing. Putting my fingers to my head, I felt liquid. Blood. I gazed at my red fingers in shock. I had nearly been killed.

I looked at Taylor. His unseeing eyes were open. He was dead.

I stared in disbelief.

It made me kill him. It tried to kill me. Taylor was right. God help me, Taylor was right all along.

I only vaguely heard the sirens, the door being knocked down, the footsteps rushing toward me.

Now, as I sit here in the electric chair about to be executed for murdering the brilliant scientist, Dr. Taylor Beaumont in his Hollywood Hills home, I have a triumphant grin on my face. The people around me think I’m a maniac. But they don’t know what I know. Not yet.

It got me, yes. But even now, my mass email is being read by hundreds, maybe thousands of people, including yourself. Each of you know the truth. And if you’re smart, you’ll tell your friends, and they’ll tell their friends. All I need is a hundred monkeys, and soon everyone’s mirror neurons will be resonating with the truth. And it will be very unhappy with everyone. I don’t know how it will react. It might go crazy. It might give up. It might just commit suicide. I don’t know.

“Take that!” I think, as the electricity pulses through my body.