Conclusions of a Champion Lip Reader
Author: MissNyah
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Spoilers through "Desert Cantos"
Summary: Since she hasn't done much arse-kicking lately Cameron has had a lot of time to observe human behavior. Aversion to a dead man's photograph wasn't the only thing she noticed at the factory workers' funeral. Cameron muses on the meaning of letting someone go.
Characters: Cameron, Derek/Sarah
Note: Set during and after "Desert Cantos"
They see me as something so different from that which they are. All of them but John. Maybe. This observation is not my own, it was there when I came into consciousness. It had to be. I would not have come to that conclusion on my own. It is far too illogical and I had to have that piece of data to grasp the illogic in which they abide.
They think that I cannot think, that I cannot feel. I think differently than they do. My thoughts are born as numbers but come to me in words. One’s and zero’s flit about the minute circuits of my compact cerebrum. They are new age telegraph transmissions, long, long, short, produced, condensed, and unpacked as words on the other side. For them the words begin as chemical signals. It’s stop and go just the same only they don’t know it’s happening until the words seem to create themselves out of nothing.
I can see the beginning of things. That’s the difference.
Their words are so very complicated. Their actions, their elegant movements of muscles and bones, are a marvel of accidental evolution. But their actions are so straight- forward. Taking a step, shedding a tear, not looking at a photograph. Their words are something else.
In isolation, words have precise definitions. Sometimes the definitions are many but they are strictly set down. In actual use, in combination with other words, they can mean almost anything. One word can be rendered toward a thousand different uses with a change in pitch, a posture, a tightening of muscles around the eye.
In the English language alone there are hundreds of idioms. There are phrases and expressions that have a meaning quite separate from the sum of the defined parts. Hit the hay. Break a leg. Get out of my face. That’s tight. Let him go.
I learned the last one at the funeral service for the factory workers of Charm Acres. Sarah Connor assigned Derek and John to the task of covert reconnaissance. They were to speak with the family members of the deceased workers and form emotion-based connections in hopes of obtaining information. I was deemed unsuitable for the task.
Derek Reese seemed to attach himself to a man of short stature and ill-fitting clothing. When Derek and the man arrived at the funeral they were late. I observed Derek because his attachment to the man who was obviously not one of the mourners was one more suspicious behavior. Derek Reese’s suspicious behavior has been increasing in the past months. His whereabouts are often unknown and he is often absent from the Connor’s residence though he is still a wanted man. Such reckless behavior is uncharacteristic of a resistance fighter. Soon I think I will be obligated to obtain more information about his activities or it seems likely that John Connor will be at risk.
When he arrived at the funeral, the unknown man quietly observed the proceedings. Derek Reese spoke to Sarah Connor. Though the sound vibrations produced by their voices were inaudible to this body, I was easily able to decipher their words visually. They spoke of the man and made plans to continue the mission. Then Derek Reese seemed upset, he frowned, an expression that requires the coordination of several small facial muscles. He complained that Sarah Connor had called him “Reese.”
That is another thing strange about human beings: their attachment to names. They have many names. Two, often three, are official. Then they have short names and nicknames and names only some people are permitted to use. They call one another after foods, after animals, after flavors. Names are so important to them. They recognize one another by these names. And yet they claim to have what they call a soul. Something that makes them different from all other things that live. Their souls make them who they are. I do not have a soul. I have name but I think I wouldn’t require it to know myself.
Derek Reese seemed to be upset because “Reese” was the name Sarah Connor used for Kyle Reese, his brother. He told her to, “Let him go.” She turned the words back on him. I quickly eliminated the literal meaning of the phrase. It was highly unlikely that Sarah Connor or Derek Reese had Kyle Reese imprisoned in some fashion since he, Kyle, is deceased.
At my next opportunity I researched the use of that phrase in current American vernacular. “Letting someone go” seems to refer to a difficult process of emotional catharsis. It is often required when a relationship has ended due to death or unfavorable circumstances. Prior to being “let go,” the memory of the departed seems to negatively affect the afflicted person’s ability to respond appropriately to his or her present circumstances or from healthy emotional connections. Oftentimes recourse involves time, conversation, and alcohol.
It is one week since the funerals. John and I are attending a school function with Riley during which we will walk throughout the night. In appreciation for our demonstration of endurance, small businesses and private citizens will charitably give to a foundation that supports cancer research. Sarah Connor is one of our sponsors.
My research has shown that “letting go” often requires the company of the similarly afflicted in addition to vast quantities of solitude. In popular culture (which reflects reality with variable accuracy) the outcomes of shared catharsis often include weeping, shouting, sexual intercourse, or some combination of the three. All are very private behaviors. Because John and I will not be in the house tonight, I believe it is an ideal opportunity for Sarah and Derek to come to terms with their grief. Neither Sarah Connor nor Derek Reese often expresses emotions in the presence of the other. Neither is willing to begin the required catharsis. Thus, I have left each one a note compiled from the sentiments of grief expressed after Jordan’s suicide and observations of their styles of speech and expression. I have signed the note left for each with the other’s signature. I have also left a bottle of distilled spirits in the refrigerator. I am hopeful that they will discover the alcohol before they discover my deception.
I believe it is important for Derek Reese and Sarah Connor to share in the process of “letting go” in order for the Connors to function efficiently as a tactical unit. Refusal to relieve emotional burdens has resulted in a breakdown of necessary communication.
Furthermore, I have come to the conclusion that Kyle Reese was the paternal ancestor of John Connor. The degree of grief for a brother should be similar to the degree of grief felt for a lover. This conclusion brings clarity to the brief exchange I witnessed at the funeral, without it, Sarah's grief should be exponentially small compared to Derek's.
Also, John Connor shares physical attributes with both Sarah Connor and Derek Reese.
Also, Sarah and John Connor assumed the alias “Reese” for several months.
Perhaps I should have come to this conclusion months ago but I simply did not think of it. Perhaps it is all these words muddling things up.
End
Rating: PG-13
Warnings: Spoilers through "Desert Cantos"
Summary: Since she hasn't done much arse-kicking lately Cameron has had a lot of time to observe human behavior. Aversion to a dead man's photograph wasn't the only thing she noticed at the factory workers' funeral. Cameron muses on the meaning of letting someone go.
Characters: Cameron, Derek/Sarah
Note: Set during and after "Desert Cantos"
They see me as something so different from that which they are. All of them but John. Maybe. This observation is not my own, it was there when I came into consciousness. It had to be. I would not have come to that conclusion on my own. It is far too illogical and I had to have that piece of data to grasp the illogic in which they abide.
They think that I cannot think, that I cannot feel. I think differently than they do. My thoughts are born as numbers but come to me in words. One’s and zero’s flit about the minute circuits of my compact cerebrum. They are new age telegraph transmissions, long, long, short, produced, condensed, and unpacked as words on the other side. For them the words begin as chemical signals. It’s stop and go just the same only they don’t know it’s happening until the words seem to create themselves out of nothing.
I can see the beginning of things. That’s the difference.
Their words are so very complicated. Their actions, their elegant movements of muscles and bones, are a marvel of accidental evolution. But their actions are so straight- forward. Taking a step, shedding a tear, not looking at a photograph. Their words are something else.
In isolation, words have precise definitions. Sometimes the definitions are many but they are strictly set down. In actual use, in combination with other words, they can mean almost anything. One word can be rendered toward a thousand different uses with a change in pitch, a posture, a tightening of muscles around the eye.
In the English language alone there are hundreds of idioms. There are phrases and expressions that have a meaning quite separate from the sum of the defined parts. Hit the hay. Break a leg. Get out of my face. That’s tight. Let him go.
I learned the last one at the funeral service for the factory workers of Charm Acres. Sarah Connor assigned Derek and John to the task of covert reconnaissance. They were to speak with the family members of the deceased workers and form emotion-based connections in hopes of obtaining information. I was deemed unsuitable for the task.
Derek Reese seemed to attach himself to a man of short stature and ill-fitting clothing. When Derek and the man arrived at the funeral they were late. I observed Derek because his attachment to the man who was obviously not one of the mourners was one more suspicious behavior. Derek Reese’s suspicious behavior has been increasing in the past months. His whereabouts are often unknown and he is often absent from the Connor’s residence though he is still a wanted man. Such reckless behavior is uncharacteristic of a resistance fighter. Soon I think I will be obligated to obtain more information about his activities or it seems likely that John Connor will be at risk.
When he arrived at the funeral, the unknown man quietly observed the proceedings. Derek Reese spoke to Sarah Connor. Though the sound vibrations produced by their voices were inaudible to this body, I was easily able to decipher their words visually. They spoke of the man and made plans to continue the mission. Then Derek Reese seemed upset, he frowned, an expression that requires the coordination of several small facial muscles. He complained that Sarah Connor had called him “Reese.”
That is another thing strange about human beings: their attachment to names. They have many names. Two, often three, are official. Then they have short names and nicknames and names only some people are permitted to use. They call one another after foods, after animals, after flavors. Names are so important to them. They recognize one another by these names. And yet they claim to have what they call a soul. Something that makes them different from all other things that live. Their souls make them who they are. I do not have a soul. I have name but I think I wouldn’t require it to know myself.
Derek Reese seemed to be upset because “Reese” was the name Sarah Connor used for Kyle Reese, his brother. He told her to, “Let him go.” She turned the words back on him. I quickly eliminated the literal meaning of the phrase. It was highly unlikely that Sarah Connor or Derek Reese had Kyle Reese imprisoned in some fashion since he, Kyle, is deceased.
At my next opportunity I researched the use of that phrase in current American vernacular. “Letting someone go” seems to refer to a difficult process of emotional catharsis. It is often required when a relationship has ended due to death or unfavorable circumstances. Prior to being “let go,” the memory of the departed seems to negatively affect the afflicted person’s ability to respond appropriately to his or her present circumstances or from healthy emotional connections. Oftentimes recourse involves time, conversation, and alcohol.
It is one week since the funerals. John and I are attending a school function with Riley during which we will walk throughout the night. In appreciation for our demonstration of endurance, small businesses and private citizens will charitably give to a foundation that supports cancer research. Sarah Connor is one of our sponsors.
My research has shown that “letting go” often requires the company of the similarly afflicted in addition to vast quantities of solitude. In popular culture (which reflects reality with variable accuracy) the outcomes of shared catharsis often include weeping, shouting, sexual intercourse, or some combination of the three. All are very private behaviors. Because John and I will not be in the house tonight, I believe it is an ideal opportunity for Sarah and Derek to come to terms with their grief. Neither Sarah Connor nor Derek Reese often expresses emotions in the presence of the other. Neither is willing to begin the required catharsis. Thus, I have left each one a note compiled from the sentiments of grief expressed after Jordan’s suicide and observations of their styles of speech and expression. I have signed the note left for each with the other’s signature. I have also left a bottle of distilled spirits in the refrigerator. I am hopeful that they will discover the alcohol before they discover my deception.
I believe it is important for Derek Reese and Sarah Connor to share in the process of “letting go” in order for the Connors to function efficiently as a tactical unit. Refusal to relieve emotional burdens has resulted in a breakdown of necessary communication.
Furthermore, I have come to the conclusion that Kyle Reese was the paternal ancestor of John Connor. The degree of grief for a brother should be similar to the degree of grief felt for a lover. This conclusion brings clarity to the brief exchange I witnessed at the funeral, without it, Sarah's grief should be exponentially small compared to Derek's.
Also, John Connor shares physical attributes with both Sarah Connor and Derek Reese.
Also, Sarah and John Connor assumed the alias “Reese” for several months.
Perhaps I should have come to this conclusion months ago but I simply did not think of it. Perhaps it is all these words muddling things up.
End