Endogenous intellectual presets, or EIPs, do not exist per say, but the acronym, which I invented, seems fine to define just what I call systems of conditions that churn out patterns of cognition: hardwired humanistic rules of existential function that seem to rule us from the moment we are born. First we are selfish. That’s how it all begins. Then we realize one day that we as humans are social creatures who thrive upon altruism. Coupled with love’s warmth, it is then we lose sight of what the fuck to even do or think, because guilt is a powerful force of consciousness which can push results without sinking in, and fear is the common driver which encompasses guilt within its duties. The self fails to prosper if one indicates to society that one harbors an egregiously selfish heart and, one proves this through one’s examples. We only ever truly prosper when we are found acting in the service of others, we all tell ourselves beneath luminous weightless quilts of stained glass on Sunday mornings because EIPs control our lives. One might think babies do not have EIPs, but surely babies must; after-all, we do not come to learn what we refuse to ever know. True evil is a frontier perpetually explored but only by few, for example.

EIPs explain how a newborn baby can read your energy without error; it’s why you cannot fool a newborn baby with sophisticated pretenses that we design for beating systems preceding fatalistic outcomes in the adult world. Your boss, for example, lets your bullshit fly, from time to time, though not because he or she ever believes you, but only because you are entitled to some sick days in the scope of each year. The newborn baby however––she’s not buying the prototype baby voice that you pulled out of your ass with zero test runs before in your life. The newborn baby might not understand the condescending nature of baby talk, but all because you didn’t know what to do in the presence of real innocence––the newborn will understand what really matters if nothing else, thanks to her EIPs. The baby can sense that you suffer, which you do, at least in the moment; you suffer from some form of incarnational alien syndrome, which just means the obvious human options for anyone to take in given scenarios escape you, for even if you think of what to do with yourself, you can’t bring yourself to elect the option within your behavior, due to anything; for example, a fear of competence, or an aversion to fitting in with too much grace. The baby looks at you with squinted eyes, immobile limbs, purple skin saturated in vaginal juices, and all the hair of a 79 year old male radiation survivor with more scalp to show than keratin to speak of. But what does this newborn human see in you? The newborn sees somebody with nothing to offer, yet someone who stands to take away the nothing that she’s yet ever found.