Continuing from Jenome Theory.
How does memory deteriorate as age the human bodies with which that memory is associated? How does consciousness of the variety found on Terra decompose?
We may come to see that there are processes which cause these things to happen, and that these and other processes are not derived from excessively emotive fictional spirituality. It is, rather, excessively emotive fictional spirituality that causes us to deny the necessarily non-random nature of abounding, omnipresent, interconnected processes. The triggering of life and death by the interaction of the frozen energies which 2017-2117 Terra has the technology to track, we can more easily understand than the claims of the soothsayers of theistic plotting or subatomic randomness. Absent these technologies, and a philosophy of random genetic will-to-power to help prophecy them, systematic explanations based upon fractal principles seem like ridiculous flights of fancy.
"Brains" dictate "sleep cycles" based on environmental stimuli, extant habits, and instinctual memory. "DNA" provides for the release of "estrogen" or "testosterone," et alii, based on these same factors. Terran environments work in sync with Terran sub-environments ("organisms"), and with Terran sub-sub-environments ("microscopic organisms"), to create the outcomes that we can sense, and which, to some degree, we are able and willing to contemplate seriously. The pregnant female's body somehow knows about the pregnancy without language skills; without the operative mind necessarily sharing that knowledge, or having necessarily made a decision.
Decomposition is quite similar. When a human body dies in a sanitary chamber, completely protected from flies and maggots, it still begins to decompose. This is not because it is impure or evil, or because an invisible deity is dancing around the body waving a wand, but because the organisms which coordinated with the body's digestive system during its term of operation may, when freed from the restrictions of said system, expand beyond their natural boundaries and begin consuming the body from within. The vindictive extermination of these organisms via heat or cold can delay or prevent the process, and many human societies, particularly 2017 ones, spend and have spent vast resources on the sacralizing of empty, economically non-viable bodies ("economically" in the sense that reusing them in visual/material imitation of how they became available would cost far more in the way of resources than creating new ones).
This process, though, should not be feared. Like other natural processes, the death of an individual, a type of individual, a planet, or a type of planet is ultimately beneficial. The organisms that consume dead bodies on Earth, and which work since the beginning of life at causing dying processes to initiate and be carried out--over seconds, decades, or billions of years--are distasteful, disgusting, and, to a degree, parasitic, as we all in some way are.
(Parasites that do not contribute to their hosts can contribute to the overall health of the life process, while parasites that do contribute to their hosts can damage the overall health of the life process. Consider, respectively, a maggot, versus a financier who lavishly pays a journalist for his labor.)
We may have our intelligent aversion to parasitism and decay, as when we do not wish to permit children to play with the coroner's work while the power is out. This would be "dangerous," in the sense that it would be inefficient to damage newer bodies by spreading to them a component of the process which works more efficiently on older ones. For less developed minds, establishing instincts, rituals, laws, myths, or other generalized aversions to decomposition may be useful in avoiding systemic inefficiencies. "Smell" or "fear" can assist less-complex minds in avoiding flesh-eating bacteria, when "intellect" alone would not suffice.
Such behavior can become equally dangerous when the aversion to decomposition causes an attempt to prevent decomposition, which if successful harms life: a society which prioritizes and perfects its embalming techniques has, in the end, no matter left except preserved shells. Guarded by vigilant chemical automatons, the tomb world cannot regenerate itself for far longer than other worlds. On a smaller scale, as on the past several thousand years in Terra, the society which imperfectly treasures its obsessive aversion to decomposition wastes staggering quantities of resources arranging itself toward the denial of future life. The living live not for life, but for its ending, honoring the dead by denying valuable resources to their descendants, and reserving them instead for the illusory frozen timescapes of the necropolis.
(This is an ordinary disease of consciousness; it is not usually harmful, although, like a human child's failure to begin talking at or beyond a certain stage of growth, funerary passion indicates first a concern, then later a crippling problem which indicates lifelong boundaries in growth and achievement. The memory of the pleasantness of clutching a soft, pretty cloth doll is not itself indicative of stunted development, nor the fetishization of childhood memories in the form of an original beloved symbol, or a likeness thereof. At some point, the doll and/or the doll-interest may become representative of a failure to continue growing. Not a failure in the "inability" way, but in the "anti-life" way, wherein the doll collection [pet, chemical or viewing or crafting hobby, et cetera] possesses power because and only because it is a totem of misdirected sadness; the yawning proof of the failure to achieve what could have been achieved. Terra's retardation at this time may be limited. Its fearful fixation with devoting the greater part of its resources to refuting the permissibility of bodily death is unfortunate, and embarrassing, but potentially not terminal. The mental energy initially devoted to preparing for the afterlife could be excused as, in some respects, healthy and "normal." In other respects, the attempt to chemically remove bodies and, more importantly, colossal quantities of more immediately useful, life-sustaining resources from the use of the living, is a bad sign. Terra's life-extension/memorializing issues are not our current focus, though, so put them aside.)
Jenome as Functionary
Here enters star-crossed interversal roamer Jenome. Much of our current conundrum centers around this invader. Jenome comes to planets selfishly; maliciously; but, it can ultimately serve a positive purpose. It and its carriers are agents of decomposition and, ultimately, renewal, though they try, and believe themselves, not to be so. The gorging vulture does not always, or necessarily ever, see itself as an agent of goodness and hope, but perhaps only as the triumphant, survivalist gorger, king of the inevitability that trails in the wake of the mightiest.
The process, like deaths or sunsets or winters, is not necessarily pleasant nor beautiful. For some, it is a conscription, whereby the process is so "traumatizing" (by their earlier standards) that it results in the growth of new Jenomic components. For others it is, retroactively, likened to the journey through the birth canal: a seemingly cosmos-ending hell, scarring and terrible, which can be surgically perverted to greater or lesser degrees, and which can be later viewed (truthfully, barring circumstance or corruption) as positive.
This one's role is palliative care. Not in the service of giving up, oh no--by all means, if you would, take up arms and recover the planet. Far be it for this one to admit that hospice is a temporary condition not because of sudden recovery, but because of inevitable passing. There are always little miracles; little mistakes. Keep the faith you wish to keep. If enough of you suddenly become sensible and wish to rebuild via these forms, this one would be delighted to join you.
In cases like Terra's, this one's function is to attempt to minimize the spread of Jenome; to offer a more logical, coherent possibility for survival outside of residue processing. Most people here believe in either nothing (their selves and perceptions only), themselves (their selves and perceptions only, but more honestly so), or one or more personified forms of "transcendence," which have been embarrassingly corrupted by local selfishness, and which dictate versal infinities in terms of humans living on Terra during a certain ten thousand year time period. The intelligent here are wise to abandon hope in arrogant local myths, particularly if they may observe flagrantly incorrect specific physical predictions. This was not always the case, but for our local written history, it is all we have available, except perhaps reconstrued perceptions of (lamentably planetary-specific) reincarnation religions which, even more lamentably, are often associated with personified savior-figures blended with various trackable historical trends (ergo not credibly prophets with unique offerings).