 Logic Bomb was written by Rounder House for Gearsday. If you'd like to read it yourself, you can go to www.sep-wiki.wiki.com forward slash surprise-happy-birthday-9. A link will be in the description. Five senses make up the input that goes into the human mind. Sight, smell, touch, taste, and sound. Everything that exists around them falls into one of these categories, or, as far as they are concerned, it doesn't exist. Of course, senses are the only data that go into formulating the human perception of reality. The mind processes this data to achieve a conclusion and then acts upon it. And this is where things get messy. Brains are, at the end of it, supremely complex input-output machines. Sensory input goes in, conclusions about the world come out. The input is run against a lifetime's worth of rules, determinant statements, a complex algorithm derived from other conclusions, and so on and so forth. It is ever-adapting and all-encompassing. The rare scenarios where it fails at these are, respectively, learning and insanity. But the machine is not immortal. Over time, it deteriorates. Input is wrong, and this leads to exponentially inaccurate conclusions. As mentioned, it's subject to insanity, brought on by the realization that something is utterly beyond the capacity for human conception. It defies understanding by means of its very existence. These are natural faults of the human mind, and they are caused by itself. But artificial faults are far, far more interesting. Viral input. Clarification, they are not just detrimental sensory input. Detrimental sensory input is nails on a chalkboard, odors of decomposition, the acrid taste of cyanide. No, these are much, much worse than that. These camouflage themselves as sensory input, just another of the countless things you could hear, touch, taste, smell, and see. And this is a lie. They are no more true sensory input than a chameleon is the branch it sits on, but the chameleon uses this to hide from predators. Artificial faults are the predator. They are invasive and transformative to the mode of thinking, and for this reason they are called cognitohazards, hazardous to thought. Let us return to the idea of the mind as a machine, a bundle of input like any other that comes in one day. A poster on the wall that is slightly too red, the sound of a plane that is too close, the smell of your wife's perfume, but off. It is processed, conclusions are drawn, but something is wrong. It happens too fast to even notice it in the moment, a simple, utterly banal, but fundamental rule that the rest of our world sits on is changed. The gear has been warped. It is functional, but it throws off the entire apparatus. By itself it is too minor to notice, but there is now a crack in the machine. The mind continues unabated. It gets no breaks, but as it takes on more thoughts, more pressures, the crack widens, expands, the remnants of the thought remain, and they spread to more gears, more rules. They warp, one after the other. The failures build on each other, and eventually something inside breaks. Something goes too far, and then the mind realizes it can no longer trust itself, that an object, some viral factor, something it saw just a second, five months ago, has fundamentally broken its understanding of the universe and its subjects. The human experience is fed by both its senses and the mind's logic for decoding them. When both of these factors fail, there is only one logical conclusion remaining, that the rules it has built over a lifetime no longer matter, but nothing can be trusted, because nothing is real, and this, truly. If you'd like to support the Cancer Research Institute, there will be a link to that in the description as well. Head on over there, and if you might want to consider giving a donation. I know Dr. Gears last year, or was it last year, the year before possibly, it's been a little while now, went through a bit of a problem with cancer, and I think supporting the Cancer Research Institute is a good cause, especially if you're an SCP fan, especially considering that these stories were written for Dr. Gears for his birthday, which is an annual thing that we do for the SCP wiki. Anyway, it's nice to know that I'm not alone out here, and I will see you all again on Thursday.