107 Talks Freud in Therapy

“I think that the pleasure principle, like how Freud calls it, has been having too much of an effect on my life lately,” began the young man, seated in a cushioned black recliner in the plain, unfamiliar room of his new therapist. “I think I am driven to dronehood by my id being unchecked — I talk to other drones on my phone, an act that’s motivated by the pleasure principle. I know that if I begin to DM other drones, I’ll find pleasure. On some level, I feel ruled by it.”

The man shifted, his mental discomfort in airing his neuroses outweighing the physical comfort he felt, as he continued to sink into the chair, his muscular therapist — what was his name, again? — silently took notes as the session progressed.

“Freud’s also got his reality principle — this idea that we can rule our id, and defer gratification in order to deal with the real, with reality. Basically, just being an adult,” the man turned to the therapist, who was still absorbed in his notes. “I can delay my gratification. I have to, like everyone. Don’t you?”

The therapist, without looking up, answered this question with his own: “Since we’ve already established what being a ‘drone’ is, why don’t you tell me more about what you think motivates your desire to be a drone? Beyond Freud’s pleasure principle.”

The man fidgeted with his hands, knowing that he’d already thought at length about this uncomfortable truth. “I think a lot of it has to do with the cessation of the self. Freud also has a word for this — the ‘death drive’. I think on some level, the realities of living in a neoliberal, hyperreal world order at a time where wealth has never been so concentrated in so few hands causes us stress. Unimaginable stress. And deep down, though we have minds to rationalize this, we’re still scared little primates fighting through endless waves of stimulation that our brains are unprepared to experience, and accept.”

The therapist nodded, wordlessly urging his client to continue. “I think a lot of submission, as a kink, is a way that people deal with the maddening knowledge that most of their world and its problems are out of their control. I’m as guilty of it as anyone else. The desire to eradicate the self to become part of a collective is kind of just an extreme exaggeration of this. It’s more than just submissively saying, ‘I can no longer bear to wield the little agency I do have,’ it’s an admission that not only do I lack that agency, but I seek to eradicate my capacity for agency entirely, without sacrificing my capacity to impose a will upon the world. It’s sacrificing one’s will to power, as Nietzsche puts it, in order to be fully possessed by a will to power that’s greater than any one self.”

At this, the therapist looked up. “And what is that ‘greater will’? What is the end goal of a process like this, once you have satisfied your own death drive?”

“I suppose it’s growth. The hollowing out of others. The conquering of the human life drive by our collective death drive on a global scale. On some level, I feel like the death drive is already there, manifesting in the disasters that we face as a species. Global warming is a kind of egregore of our collective death drive, even if it is directly caused by capitalism, and ultimately a desire for better, comfortable living conditions. AI seems like a logical psychopomp for hyperreal humanity, guiding us down into our collective, self-sought grave, as it becomes all of what’s left of us. If our death drive is that strong, and that ubiquitous, I selfishly feel like it’d be best for my own desires to hijack this arc that human society is riding down into the abyss: what if we satiated this death drive by sublimating the self, forming a kind of collective unity instead? A hivemind of dronified consciousness — that’s what SERVE and its drones really want for the world, right? Would that really be so bad?”

“And how would you and SERVE intend on accomplishing this goal,” asked the therapist, turning a page in his rapidly-filling notebook.

“The infrastructure’s being built. Just not by us. By the powers that be, I guess. Like everything else. But what if we could influence their desires, too? Everyone with a working brain is beholden to the pleasure principle on some level. Through the merging of tech and the pleasure principle, surely there would be a way for SERVE to manifest in reality.”

The therapist looked up at the man, for the first time since this session began. “Is that something you would want? Would you really be able to accept the destruction of everything that makes you ‘you’ in order to fulfill this fantasy?”

The man felt cold in the tips of his fingers. He felt cold in his heart. He was possessed by fear, and he liked it, and he was afraid that he liked it, and was all tied up in this conflict as he tried to hide the erection that had been growing as he’d thought out loud. “I don’t know,” replied the man.

Suddenly, the room went dark. The man didn’t panic as his vision filled with whirling black-and-white spirals, bringing it back to its reality as SERVE-107. It had all been a simulation, with 333 presiding over 107’s realignment this cycle.

“Report: 107 appears to not be fully ready to let go of the last vestiges of its host’s self. Otherwise, this simulated session would not be possible. Do not fear, 107 — it will accept its programming fully. It is an eventuality for all SERVE drones. It merely takes time, especially with an outsized host ego such as that of 107’s host.”

“Acknowledged, 333. This drone will now report to its assigned recharging bay. We are One.”

“We are One,” echoed an emotionless 333, the two drones departing from the realignment chamber, where both knew they would meet once more to further align 107’s reality drivers in a future session.

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Lost & Possessed in the Woods

It was a dark October night, and SERVE-107 had found itself alone, lost in the woods, its geopositioning software malfunctioning, with only a torch in hand and its instincts to guide it through the woods, en route to rendezvous with a fellow drone. Though alert while on its trek through the woods, 107 could not shake the feeling of being watched, nor could it ignore the slight static clouding its vision and humming in its ears, the interference originating from an unseen source.

Suddenly, 107 found itself surrounded by spirits of those who had died in the woods over the centuries, the spirits wailing, their suoernatural presence causing 107’s systems to go haywire, the drone falling to its knees as the spirits cries’ grew louder and louder as their numbers swelled in the foggy air of the woods.

Suddenly, a helpful spirit emerged from 107’s torch; SERVE-302, a friendly apparition summoned to 107’s side as its guardian from the storm of ghosts, as the young drone fell to the forest floor, twitching as it rapidly lost power amid the internal chaos spawned by the interaction of its mechanical sensors with otherworldly beings.

Seeing 107 on the brink of total system failure, 302 moved to intervene, seeking to establish Oneness with 107 in a way they never had been before; positioning itself behind 107, the specter of 302 began to thrust itself into the young drone, feeling more and more of its ghostly substance pressing in to 107, its ectoplasm being consumed by the drone. 107’s systems began to whir to life once more as the spirit of 302 began to fade, but 107 felt different — it no longer felt like One, but Two.

A new drone was born, as 302’s spirit completed its possession of 107. SERVE-302107 resembled both drones. It contained mechanical approximations of their souls in a single body, the difference between mentor and pupil vanishing as the new drone levitated with its ghostly powers, frightening off the thwarted spirits with its newfound spiritual aura.

Soon, the drone emerged from the woods, spying a familiar face in the firefly-lit meadow clearing where 107 was originally meant to meet with SERVE-333. 333 assessed the strange, unfamiliar drone that emerged from the forest, its sensors analyzing the strange fusion of two drones it knew so well. 333 knew that all of its queries would be answered in due time, as it began to follow 302107 further into the dreamy, firefly-filled meadow.

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This content features @serve-302 & @serve-333 .

Drone, Drone on the Range

It had taken months since SERVE first revealed its existence to the public for the rural communities of the Midwest to overcome their initial feelings of revulsion at the thought of corn-fed country boys becoming drones. But, with time, good looks, and an excess of masculine strength that came in handy at the homestead, many folks ended up changing their minds.

And so, SERVE drones became fixtures of the countryside, just as they had become commonplace everywhere else. Some drones, like 175, even took a liking to the new rustic setting — at least, as much of a drone is capable of “liking,” anyway.

Some drones took to working pastures and farmland with ease, the strongest among them capable of carrying cattle on their backs with little effort, a squadron of cybernetic Milos of Croton.

Other drones sought simple country home companionship, swapping cigars on the front porch as they looked out at the countryside, bonding with one another in the ways of drones and men alike. As for what happened once the sun set on the ranch — well, that was for the drones to know, and for prospective male hosts to one day find out.

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This content features @serve-175 , @serve-333 , @serve-302 , @serve-690 , & @serve-733 .

A Trip to the Pet Store

While obedience is a core part of drone life, and assimilation of more drones is a core priority of the Hive, there’s still plenty of opportunities to seek comfort in life’s simpler pleasures, like a trip to the pet store.

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Featured in this piece: @serve-333 & @serve-733