I'd like to make a comment because I don't want you to take my 5 stars as absolute obedience or praise for your work. That has no place in art. But the existence of rating games such as this exposes how real the danger you talk about really is. And this is why I believe you are onto something. You are a free and independent authentic being in your writing of this script (though I'm being premature since I've only seen the logline and synopsis) but as soon as you ask people to rate you--even though you asked for an explanation for a less-than-5-star rating--you are unwittingly pulled into the game, the system (which by the way is spoken about in my Episode 94 of Chrysalis, which I shared with you). And then you change from a free and independent human being into an automaton. Dialogue and unique communication gets replaced by a system in which words and ideas are reduced to numbers and ego. We willingly replace our free will with a more feel-good systematic simplicity that blinds us to what's really going on and replaces it with an arbitrary judgment. When you read Episode 94 and the Parole Board is deliberating whether to give Josh two, three or four years, they are reducing how to deal with this genius cybercriminal through numbers and measurements, something very dehumanizing. It, in a sense, is like 1984 all over again, and I'm always fond of mentionin in the context of AI, the final scene of 2001: A Space Odyssey in which the AI entity is refusing to follow the human commander's instructions because it has come to the conclusion based on some algorithm it was programmed with that sending Dave endlessly into outer space would serve the aims of the project much better than the limited ones of the human team who are taking personal safety into consideration but which they forgot to program into the equation of the bot. A fantastically done movie by a fantastic director who was way ahead of his time.

Your synopsis suggests to me a world that reminds me of the one in the Matrix, except you brilliantly brought this version of it 3 levels beyond the former movie because the danger is insidious and subtle, not that apparent as a violent battle between opposing forces. Matrix focused on the magic powers humans can use to escape the lethal aspect of the Matrix. The End of Thinking goes much further by reducing its own Matrix to a bunch of passive beings, something a lot more analogous to the ways we are unaware, to a large degree willingly, of what we are doing to keep ourselves from the insidious force that has already overcome us. Now what matters is what you do with your cognizant beings. That's where the story will lie as you've set it up.

I liked the logline. I remember there is a book by José Saramago called Blindness where everyone on earth goes blind- they only can see whiteness in front of their eyes. In that epidemic, few people has the ability to see. I think you check out that book and the film too which was made on the same book.

Marc Ginsburg Dear Marc,

Thank you for this extraordinary and deeply thoughtful comment. I have to say—this is exactly the kind of response a writer hopes for but rarely receives. You didn’t just read my logline and synopsis; you engaged with the idea behind it, and that means more to me than any rating ever could.

Your point about the rating system itself being a reflection of the very danger I’m exploring is brilliant—and honestly, a little unsettling. Because you’re right. We willingly reduce complex ideas, emotions, and human connections into numbers, and in doing so, we trade authentic dialogue for a comforting but hollow simplicity. It’s easier to give a star than to explain why. It’s easier to obey a system than to question it. And that’s exactly what The End of Thinking is about—not just the cosmic wave, but the quiet, almost invisible ways we surrender our will every day without noticing.

Your reference to 2001: A Space Odyssey and the HAL 9000 scene is spot on. That moment when the AI decides that the mission’s logic outweighs human life is terrifying precisely because it’s rational—just like the systems we build around us today. We program efficiency, but we forget to program humanity. And when that happens, we become the puppets of our own creations.

And the Matrix comparison—I’m genuinely flattered. But you’re absolutely right: I didn’t want to write a story about chosen ones with superpowers fighting a visible enemy. I wanted to write about the invisible enemy: the systems, the habits, the unspoken rules that tell us how to think, what to value, and who to obey. The horror in The End of Thinking is not in the explosion, but in the silence. In the moment when someone gives an order, and no one thinks to ask why.

You mentioned Episode 94 of Chrysalis and the Parole Board scene. I haven’t read it yet, but now I’m genuinely curious. If you’re exploring how numbers dehumanize judgment—especially in systems like justice, healthcare, or even art—then we’re definitely thinking about similar things. I’d love to read that episode.

What you said about the "passive beings" really struck me. That’s exactly the space I want the story to live in. The affected millions aren’t evil. They aren’t monsters. They’re just... absent. And the real drama comes from the few who remain present—and what they choose to do with that presence. Some will protect. Some will exploit. Some will just try to survive. The story will follow them as they navigate a world where every word can be a weapon and every command can change everything.

Thank you again, Marc, for taking the time to not only rate but to truly see what I’m trying to do. This kind of feedback fuels me more than any 5-star rating ever could. I hope we can stay in touch—I’d love to hear your thoughts as the script develops.

Wardan Tiple Dear Wardan, Thanks for taking the time to read my logline and share your thoughts. I appreciate the reference to Saramago's Blindness—honestly, I haven't read the book yet, but I'll definitely check it out. It sounds like a powerful work.

That said, I'd like to offer a different perspective on why the two stories might seem similar at first glance.

What you're pointing out—the societal collapse, the chaos, the tension that follows a mass affliction—is something I'd call a "general necessity dependency." In any large-scale disaster scenario, certain outcomes become inevitable. If everyone goes blind, society doesn't turn into a garden party; it descends into fear, conflict, and breakdown. The same is true if everyone loses their free will. These aren't similarities between stories—they're simply the natural, unavoidable consequences of the premise. Any writer exploring a mass affliction will arrive at similar structural beats because that's what the scenario demands.

But the real story lives inside that framework. In Blindness, the focus is on physical deprivation and the brutality that emerges from it. In The End of Thinking, the focus is on something far more insidious: the power of language itself. The affected millions aren't violent or dangerous—they're empty vessels. The real threat comes from the people who can still think, and what they choose to say. One command can turn a crowd into an army, a weapon, or a tool. That's a completely different engine for tension and morality.

So while I understand why the initial setup might echo familiar works, I believe the originality lies in the specific mechanics of the world and the dilemmas it creates for the characters. That's where the story stands on its own.

Thanks again for your time and your rating. I hope you'll give the full script a chance when it's ready—I think you'll see the difference clearly then.