Showing posts with label Code Monkey. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Code Monkey. Show all posts

Saturday, July 31, 2021

A.E. Saves the World, One Catastrophe at a Time – or – Your Own Personal Tech Jesus by A.E. Williams

Once again, the Speculative Fiction Showcase is delighted to welcome our occasional regular, A.E. Williams. As always, all views are the writer's own. 

Scroll down for details of an upcoming guest appearance by A.E. Williams at the Sacred Mushroom Summit - Sages of the Americas conference in September, in Gainesville, Florida.


WHAT ON EARTH IS GOING ON?

The other morning, I was having a nice warm cup of Brownian Motion,[1] sitting on my deck in the back of the house, watching the thermometer inch up towards 100 degrees Fahrenheit. That kind of temperature is kind of normal, in this neck of the woods, for this season, Summer.

I learned as a wee lad[2] that the planet Earth orbited the Sun, and not the other way around, despite the best teachings of the Catholic Church and astrologers. I found out that there were four seasons, here in the United States of America.[3] They were Summer, Fall, Winter, and Spring.[4] Of the four of them, Summer was the hottest. Winter was the coldest. Spring was wet, and flowery. Fall was Holiday time.

That was about it. No one worried about ‘global’ anything, except Salvation. There were conflicts across the world, of course, but those were happening far away in countries whose names were funny, and to people who were barely human, not having known Christ and all. Heck, there wasn’t even any Holy Water™ in the Red Sea, and it was practically in Jesus’ back yard![5]

With this fantastic education, I embarked upon a worldview that took some severe hits over the decades.

Women as priests? Nuns without habits? Priests who – well, enough about priests…

BIRTH CONTROL! Yeah, there’s something that really is a hot-button issue, right? It’s not bad enough the world is having tons of babies, like Nature intended. It’s wonderful! Wait, they aren’t Catholic babies?

All those non-Catholic babies could be brought into the fold, eventually, one supposes. Given enough Manifest Destiny…

But there was a terrible side-effect from all that Natural procreation stuff – people.

Billions of people. Billions of people who need to eat, defecate, fornicate, get sick, die, grow old, get injured, fart, kill, maim, become politicians, soldiers, scientists, engineers and liberal arts majors.[6]

And, naturally, all of these people need places to grow food, shelter from storms, harsh weather, and the random drone attack, vehicles to move their goods from one place to another, such as trains, planes and buses[7], educate their whelps offspring, get birth control and other medications so they will live longer and have better quality of lives, communicate across their towns, states, countries and eventually fuck up the entire planet and solar system.

This has been regarded as a bad move, by some closed-minded individuals (and organizations, actually). However, another set of individuals have become immensely wealthy and powerful from all of this activity.

And, in doing so, we are now being told, they have doomed the rest of us to death by Climate Change®.

Now, I have always been an optimist, even when I was cynical, sarcastic and damning lightly with praise. It’s my one true strength – the ability to see the silver lining next to the lead one in the burial vault.[8]

And, in the spirit of that, (and also not wanting to continue getting those glaring looks of hatred from my supposedly doomed whelps children), I offer to the world, free of cost, the SOLUTIONS to all of these thorny issues.

With a CAVEAT:

Seeing the political climate we are operating under today, I want to state right out front that I do not see myself as any kind of technology Messiah. So, for the following few minutes of reading, I want you, the Reader, to pretend that I am an alien, from Alpha Centauri, or thereabouts.[9]

GLOBAL VARIABLES, LOCAL FUNCTIONS

Insurance companies have this policy to not pay out money from premiums for incidents that are routinely classified as “Acts of God.”[10] These include fires, floods, lightning, earthquakes and the like. [11]

So, let’s take a look at some of these “Acts of God” and see if we can do anything meaningful about them, how much it might cost, and how long it will take to get results. (Let’s also ignore the obvious solution for much of these, which is “Don’t build there,” or “Move.”)

WILDFIRES

I want to state right now that fire is a beautiful thing. There is so much magic in the infernal dances of bonfire flames, on a cool evening, with the Harvest Moon in the sky, the odor of oak and pine smoke wafting around the forest, the background noises of cicadas and dying prey providing an almost Beethoven-like quality to the happenings. It is at times like this when - cheroot tucked into the corner of your mouth, a nice adult beverage in hand and a forty-five-caliber pistol strapped to your belt - you really feel One with Nature and the Universe.

If only that distant glow of wanton, Hellish destruction in the distance weren’t so damned close to your property…

It occurs to pretty much anyone that wildfires are complex things, with a multitude of causes, ramifications for power distribution, local economies, federal…

Wait.

NO, THEY ARE NOT!

It’s really simple – let forests grow for a long time, and branches and leaves and stuff accumulate. If the weather is such that there is a dry season, the conditions are as such that a tiny spark may create a fire, that can consume this detritus and grow into a raging inferno.

Fuel + spark = conflagration.

See? Simple.

Putting out a fire is simple, too.

You deprive it of oxygen. You drown it. You cover it in flame retardant chemicals. Or dirt.

See? Simple.

SOLUTION: Get Bill “The Vaccinator” Gates to repurpose his Solar Smegma®™ Aircraft Fleet to run coordinated passes over wildfires, dropping water to smother the flames. Nanobots are optional.

CASE CLOSED.


FLOODS

Floods are caused by too much of a good thing – water. Water is essential to growing food crops, bathing, sewer systems and many other public health concerns and proper hydration during heat waves.

It is ironic, then, that when it rains, it pours – onto the slopes of mountains and hills, and flat parking spaces, and farms, and into rivers and oceans. All of these places don’t need a LOT of water, right?

How then to mitigate flooding?

Take a lesson from our nearest neighbors – the Martians.

Canals.

SOLUTION: Elon Musk can use his Boring Company to build a fleet of subterranean earth-movers. These will drill a vast network of underground canals, acting as capillaries, draining the offensive liquids off into a convenient place. Say, a desert. Or maybe, the Grand Canyon.

The desert can serve three purposes:

1)      Oasis

2)      Location for hotels and casinos

3)      Water storage

Basically, Las Vegas meets Lake Tahoe.

CASE CLOSED. 


HURRICANES / TORNADOES

While it seems there are more powerful, stronger hurricanes, and many more of them, today than in times past, I would point interested parties into looking into the history of this planet.

During its formation, there were planetary storms, that lasted centuries, if not millennia. They flooded the Earth, scoured entire mountain ranges flat, dug canyons with their immense water flow, and generally made life, as we know it today, possible.

Closer to our own era, devastating major named storms[12] in the last century can be counted on one hand:

1)      Camille

2)      Andrew

3)      Katrina

4)      A bunch of others who weren’t as notable. Seriously, ALL of the storms combined produced damages of around one trillion dollars. That is less than the current infrastructure bill being floated by President Joe Biden.

SOLUTION: Firstly, mandate the removal of all kinds of insurance for ALL coastal construction in hurricane-prone areas. If you want to take the risk to build, it should be all on YOU, not the taxpayers of land-locked states.

Next, if you do decide to build there, (and, you shouldn’t!) then build low-cost buildings that can be easily cleaned up. Again, it’s your mess, so common sense dictates you should make things that don’t cost much to demolish. Like, maybe use fire?

Finally, forget about trying to ‘control the weather.’

The US Military already is doing that[13]

CASE CLOSED.


STORMS

Ibid.

CASE CLOSED.

EARTHQUAKES

Ibid.[14]

CASE CLOSED.


GLOBAL ‘WARMING’

SOLUTION: I am a huge proponent of Space Technology, as you well know.

Having worked in that industry for two decades, and as a follower of the latest and greatest Space Race, I am convinced that the easiest and most cost-effective way of reducing global warming is to put some manner of shading device between us and the Sun, which is THE major contributor to this problem.

Much as a window curtain or vertical blind, (or the Moon) can shield us from the harmful rays of the sun, these devices would be positioned in such a way as to provide a barrier between us and Old Sol.

Made of Kevlar, or perhaps another material (see below), these giant Space Curtains™ would be lifted into space aboard a SpaceX Starship, optimally, or perhaps a ULA Delta Heavy[15].

Placed at Lagrange points, these could be outfitted with ion thrusters, allowing for the intensity of the solar rays that impinge upon our atmosphere to be regulated.

This could also see some actual utility for Branson and Bezos rockets, in that they could be used to man outgoing flights on a Musk Starship for servicing these miracles. Lockheed and Boeing could build space stations that would act as staging areas for assembly and repair.

It would be a hugely profitable industry.

As to gathering the needed materials for the Space Curtains™, we have a literal mountain of raw materials at our fingertips – the Great Pacific Garbage Patch.[16]

Using a consortium of naval ships from around the world (I’m looking at YOU, China!), coupled with cruise ships, we could construct floating factories that gather this detritus and treat it in such a way as to reclaim the plastics for use in the Space Curtains™.

Think of the economic benefits of this! We are cleaning up the oceans, (for fish-farming, see below), and shooting that into space to protect us from Global Warming!

It’s a win-win-win, since this also will quicken the pace for humanity to become ONE RACE.[17]

Some other benefits of this technology are they can be made using current manufacturing processes, they will be relatively cheap, and when they become too damaged for further use, we can just drop them into the Sun.

And, best of all, you won’t have fleets of Solar Smegma™® aircraft dropping nanobots into the jet stream. Those will be preoccupied putting out forest fires.[18]

CASE CLOSED.


‘CLIMATE’ CHANGE

Well, this one is tricky. One supposes we could also float giant Fresnel lenses or space-borne lasers, or lunar bases that can shoot microwaves or particle beams at Earth’s less-warm areas, to heat things up a bit.

One unfortunate side effect of this would be the accidental sparking of wildfires.

Another would be increasing the Brownian Motion of Lake Huron or the Mediterranean Sea to a degree where the entire planet could enjoy Earl Grey for a few centuries.

To be honest, my crystal ball powers here are a bit underwhelming.

SOLUTION: TBD


WAR

Another unfortunate side effect of space-based space heaters is war.

Now, we already are dealing with this, and a lot of it is because of the lack of proper resource allocation, made even more difficult by political grand-standing, warlords and a generally inferior education system across the board.

See, education is merely indoctrination to the ‘Old Ways.’ Novel ideas, much like the ones in this article, are poo-pooed or denigrated as being ‘too fantastic,’ ‘unreasonable flights of fancy,’ or ‘insane.’

That’s because critical thinking is a vastly underutilized skill. Everywhere.

Want some examples?

·         Why do cities allow building in areas that are prone to flooding? Or wildfires? Or earthquakes?

·         Why do ‘intelligent’ people keep electing the same old political hacks?

·         Why is high fructose corn syrup a thing?

·         Why doesn’t the United States elect Nevada to be the ‘Solar Power Station’ for the entire country?

The answers to these, and many other vexing questions, are obvious to a critical thinker.[19]

SOLUTION: This one will take some political will, grass roots activism, and the banishment of money as a concept of wealth.[20]

If people seriously want to live in peace, then warfare is something that cannot be tolerated. The resources expended on killing ourselves would be far better used in getting humanity to a state of existence that is cooperative, and beneficial for all living creatures.

Think about how much medicine advanced DUE to warfare.

Now think about how much further it could have advanced against something like COVID, if those funds expended in conducting war were instead used in research for curing the human condition.

CASE CLOSED.


FAMINE

SOLUTION: Here I am going to list a few subcategories, because they are interrelated with food and eating.

·         CATTLE – Where’s the beef? Isolate it to a few areas where it is grown, and find humane methods for harvesting the meat. Soylent Green Lab-grown meat is almost here!

·         ALLIGATORS – These are so unendangered that people are hunting them again. Figure out what they are good for besides handbags and shoes, and limit their population accordingly. Put them on farms, until we figure out if they like Mars better.

·         TILAPIA – Feed them to the gators.

·         ENDANGERED SPECIES – Clone the ones we think will be useful pets, and don’t bother with the ones that like to eat us.

·         INVASIVE SPECIES – Send them back to where their ‘normal’ habitat is located. Feed people who drop their ‘cute little python’ into the swamp to the alligators.

·         EXTINCT SPECIES – Same as endangered. If we can farm chickens, we can farm the dodo.[21]

·        DEER and OTHER WILD GAME – Move everything to Australia, or Kenya. Whatever survives, we clone.

·        FISHING - Now, this one has a serious component. We KNOW how to farm fishes. We also know we need to clean up the trash in the oceans, rivers and lakes.

We need to combine these two facts into some kind of easy to create solution, such as:

GENETICALLY MODIFIED TUNA, and CATFISH (One for salt water, one for brackish)

Using CRISPR, these wonders of modern biogenetic science could be manufactured to eat all the trash, and poop out monofilament line, much like spiders can spin silk for their webs.[22]

Some care would need to be taken to collect the resulting excrement, otherwise submarines might get snagged in them.

CASE CLOSED!


GEOPOLITICAL UNREST

Well, as I mentioned above, warfare and money are two things we need to dispense with, if we desire to take advantage of all the wonders that Space Curtains™ will provide for us. That may take some doing.

SOLUTION: I propose we either decide on a Benevolent Dictator, or a Theocracy.[23]

CASE CLOSED! 


CIVIL ISSUES

Ibid.

CASE CLOSED!


POLLUTION

SOLUTION: Follow Musk, et al, off-planet.

CASE CLOSED!


Now, you may be wondering, if you are still ‘stuck’ in the traditional paradigm of capitalism or other ‘isms’, one very important thing:

HOW THE F**** ARE WE SUPPOSED TO ‘PAY’ FOR ALL THIS, A.E.???

Man, my windows just blew out from the collective screams of everyone bellowing at once about cost, blah blah blah!

Why do you think Billionaires exist?

BILLIONAIRE MAGIC CARPET RIDES

Realistically, all the money in all the world would not be enough to do these projects. So, why should we care?

Fleecing the rich is obvious, but it denies the entire problem with we humans. We are greedy little bastards, who are genetically programmed to survive. That means we hunt, gather, procreate, fight, horde, kill, rape and murder other human beings to get what we ‘want.’

It’s in our nature. Human nature. You won’t really be able to breed it out of us for centuries, if we are lucky, or thousands of years, if we let Nature take its course.

SOLUTION: Nanobots.

Hear me out!

What if we could somehow inject nanobots into the bloodstream of the typical human?

We could use them to program behaviors, using some manner of radio energy. Maybe Wi-fi, or something… In any event, all we would have to do is come up with an Artificial Intelligence engine.  It would have to be able to deduce how humans behave, from observation of billions of us, over a long time period. Some manner of tracking device would need to be carried by us, all of the time. So, maybe it could be functional, in a way that ties it to the global economy. Like, maybe it is some kind of ‘smart’ device, that allows us to make transactions easily. The public media could help us decide what we need to buy, and consume, and maybe even some games could be put on them, so that we are entertained, and engaged as much as possible.

Heck, even our personal computers can have keyloggers or something, to allow the AI to gather as much information and data as possible!

With all of that, these nanobots can be deployed, and everyone can live in peace! No one will suffer! No one will starve, or be lonely, frightened or poor!

Think of the possibilities!

We could get rid of cars, since everyone will just need to order using their voice, or maybe the AI will SEND you what you need!

Yeah, that’s it!

All we need is some method to induce people to inject these nanobots into their bodies, or maybe we can skip that altogether and just spray them into the atmosphere. It probably would have some physical properties…maybe like snot? Or smegma? Who knows?

So, we can just dye the delivery solvent silver or maybe black? Then, we spray it into the upper troposphere. Hey, I’ll bet it can help cool the Earth! Cool! Cool, cool, cool!

You know who we should enlist to help us do this?

Billionaires!

They have ALL THAT MONEY! They must be SUPER smart!

Damned geniuses, every one of them!

Someone should get Bill Gates on the (smart) phone!

Stat!

CASE CLOSED, AI Master.

 

A.E. Williams

High Springs, Florida

July 25, 2021



[1] That’s what I call my particular blend of Earl Grey, sugar and the thermodynamic miracle that is hot H2O.

[2] When I went to Catholic Parochial School, almost all of the teachers were nuns, and about 98% of them were from Ireland. So, that’s what they called us. ‘Wee’ whatevers… It’s also where I discovered Earl Grey tea, the Holy Trinity, transubstantiation, the Eucharist, that Jesus died for our sins, that masturbation is really bad, and the interesting concept called a convent …but, I digress.

[3] You should remember that the doctrine to which I was indoctrinated was very White Anglo-Saxon Protestant-centric, even though taught by the Catholic Church. According to this, the United States of America was given to us by God, by dint of superior firepower and Manifest Destiny, and not ‘white supremacy,’ Christopher Columbus got here first, and not the Vikings. And, the inhabitants already here were known collectively as ‘savages.’ Colonialism was something taught to us at England’s knee, and empires lived forever, except Rome, because they also killed Jesus. Ah, misspent youth…

[4] Some Yankees argued about a mythical fifth season, called “Autumn.” They ‘autumn’ just call it ‘Fall,’ like all right-minded people.

[5] Forget about lakes of wine, even if He could walk all across each and every one, right?

[6] I have it on good authority that Lawyers are of the Devil.

[7] Coming soon to a spaceport near you – Amazon Prime Intraplanetary Express!

[8] The lead lining is to keep the radiation in; the silver lining is a Faraday cage for better Wi-Fi reception.

[9] And, frankly, I am tired of defending all of that. I am, much like the Dean in ‘Community,’  complicated…

[10] Who says worshippers of Mammon aren’t biblical?

[11] “War” is its own category, and drone strikes are typically not covered.

[12] Source: Wikipedia. Cyclones are “Other People’s Problems.”

[13] Source: More Wikipedia. Pay attention to the HAARP and Operation Popeye bits…

[14] Source: Still MORE Wikipedia. If you think this is ‘fictional’ you aren’t paying attention. Especially of late Actually, I am throwing this one on Elon. Those Boring™ machines can be upscaled into Planet Tunnelers®, and used to relieve the stresses on the tectonic plates.

[15] I suppose Jeff Bezos ‘New Glenn’ could be press-ganged into service, but I dread seeing a giant floating AMAZON banner in the sky, 24/7.

[17] The HUMAN one, duh!

[18] Sorry, not sorry, Bill.

[19] Especially when he is sitting next to a bonfire on a cool, winter’s evening, under the Harvest Moon, drinking bourbon and classic Dr. Pepper, idly sighting his .45 at random noises, a smoldering cheroot in the corner of his mouth, and a satisfied grin on his face.

[20] I am not saying to remove money from our system. I am saying the accumulation of money as an arbiter of someone being ‘better’ than someone else is an idea whose time is far over. More money does not equal ‘smarter.’ I leave it to the industrious Reader to Google for examples. 

[21] Of course, if everyone goes Vegan, we won’t need either. Just Test-Tube Turducken, baby!

[22] On a side note, I am totally AGAINST genetically modifying spiders, in ANY fashion.

[23] Either one will work, but the cost in human lives will understandably be enormous. Of course, this is just Standard Operating Procedure, where I come from.


A.E. Williams will be a presenter at the Sacred Mushroom Summit - Sages of the Americas Conference in September, in Gainesville, Florida


About A. E. Williams:



A.E. Williams has a unique background of military experience, aerospace engineering and intelligence analysis. He has a varied career, from inventor to consultant, and pretty much everything in between.

Born near Pittsburgh, A.E. Williams is man of a mystery.

As a young man, Williams served the United States government in various capacities, which he then followed with fifteen years as a consultant. Williams currently resides in rural Central Florida.

He does his writing at night, usually accompanied by a bottle of Maker's Mark bourbon and a large supply of Classic Dr. Pepper and ice.  




Saturday, April 10, 2021

THE GRIM ADVENTURES OF ALEXA AND SIRI – or “OK, GOOGLE, WHEN AM I GOING TO DIE?” by A.E. Williams

Once again, it gives the Speculative Fiction Showcase great pleasure to welcome occasional guest blogger and essayist, not to mention satirist, A.E. Williams.

As ever. all views expressed are the author's own!


SIRI-OUS STUFF

The other day, I was driving along in the early morning, and I had a thought.

I was reminiscing about this show that used to be on Spike TV™.[1] The host, Stacy David, did a good impression of a smug frat-boy with too much money, an almost likeable personality, (if you were also a frat-boy), and a decent knowledge of automobiles.

He even made it appear that anyone, (including ham-fisted viewers drooling over his immaculate and no-doubt fabulously expensive garage), could easily perform mechanical tasks to tune or improve their vehicular device of choice. Whether a motorcycle, sedan, dump truck, half-track, ATV, boat, or gyrocopter, Stacy made fixing what ailed it look like baking a pie.

He’d have a smudge or two of grease on his forehead when he finished, but his gloved hands still retained their healthy, tanned aura of wealth and vitality.[2]

I digress…

The point is, I was THINKING about this show. I didn’t have anyone else in the car with me, save the many ghosts we all carry as we drive around.[3]

Later, when I returned to the satellite magic of my Internet connection, I was goofing around, and settled on YouTube™. And, as I am scrolling down the page, seeking some additional distraction from the oncoming freight train of viral demise headed all of our ways, I spied the Mach 5© from “Speed Racer®.” [4]

And, so, I clicked on the thumbnail, (as would any red-blooded American who was a boy who was introduced to cultural sensitivity and diversity in such fashion, many decades prior), and, Lo and Behold!

It was Stacy David. Really.

And that is when I became very, very frightened.

Because the social media giants can now obviously read our minds!

What’s next?

Do they know when we are going to the bathroom?

Is that why I get ads popping up for Charmin™ and Preparation-H® when I am on the throne?

Oh, my God!

They DO know everything about me! I mean, us!

Can they…do they know…when we are going to die?

Does Google know when I am going to die?


GOOGLE ME THIS…

Now, insurance companies and financial institutions have been leaning heavily on math and actuaries forever.

In point of fact, life insurance is a bet they make with you.

They bet you that you are going to die. Someday.

And, when you win, you do. Die, that is.

You die, and they pay the beneficiaries a sum of money to make them remember you fondly.

Well, that’s the general idea. But in reality, it’s more like they just pay a small portion of your hard-earned insurance policy that grow the fruits of all those hard-earned premiums you’ve paid, waiting out your miserable existence until you keel over.

The House always wins, as they say. Of course, they do.

They keep your money, and invest it along with all the other people they have guilted into making premium payments, (“You wouldn’t want your poor wife to remain poor, hating you even in death, would you?”), making interest on that pool of premium money. And, every so often they will pay out some outrageous sum to a bunch of people who now have you to thank for dying for them.

Hell, they probably wished you were dead anyway, most of the time. These parasites will now enjoy a far better lifestyle than you could attain while still living, and working.

You become worm-food while your widow is getting railed by a tag-team of your still-living, and incredibly randy, buddies.

Or, maybe your rotting corpse can find solace in your children performing scientific experiments as to how particular narcotics will affect their young bodies.[5]

But all of this is only my way of bracing you for the inevitable:

Google DOES know when you are going to die.

For real.

Here’s how that works –

 

ACTUARIAL MATH – THE NOT-AS-DISMAL-AS-ECONOMICS SCIENCE

There used to be a joke website where you would put your birthday in a couple of fields, and it would tell you how long you would live.

And then, there were these semi-serious medical sites, where you’d input all your sins and frailties, and it would dispense some manner of suggestions, such as “STOP SMOKING!” or “EXERCISE MORE!”

These platitudes made you feel as though you at least were thinking about taking your health seriously.

Along comes these “Healthy Option” meals at fast-food restaurants.[6]

Based on the idea that ‘green is good,’ and ‘red is bad,’ those traffic-light menu choices allow you to fool yourself into thinking you are really getting in high gear, diet-wise.

Coupled with ‘smart’ gym equipment, IoT mini-refrigerators, and app-tied wrist-gadgets, it is a Pure Dee fact that you, (and, by extension, those compatriots of your socially distanced social media circles), are serious about achieving immortality - or at least outliving your grandkids.

Heck, if you have terminal indigestion, you hope to at least be able to upload a reasonable facsimile of yourself into some kind of AI.

Then, you can pester your relatives until cloning dead cells, or rehydrating that urn of cremains, becomes reality.[7]

Soon, it is hoped, miniature submarines, the size of blood cells, and pockmarked with wireless surveillance cameras, and teeny-tiny laser scalpels, will be navigating the lipid-laden, cholesterol-crammed veins and arteries of your genitals, and other extremities, restoring vitality and youth without the need for messy organ-donor sacrifices of Chinese origin.

Still, here we are, not yet achieving the tantalizing future we all so richly deserve.

The Actuarial Tables tell us our life-expectancy is dropping. [8]

We watch the calendar days fall, hour after hour, and waste our lives playing games about zombies, or mock-battles, or participate in other celebrations of death. The droning hum in our brains is briefly quieted by our efforts at exploding our enemies, or watching outlandish recreations of mutilation and carnage, while we sip on celebrity-infused tonics or smoke herbal supplements to try to deaden the realization of the Abyss we all must face.

Am I bringing you down? Sorry, not sorry…

See, I have a point with showing you all this doom and gloom.

You may not find it all that comforting, now that I think about it.

No matter.

Remember, that which does not kill us only delays the inevitable!

 

THE UNBEARABLE DARKNESS OF BEING

So, we have given our data to a networked system of social and consumerist databases. This data includes our names, identity information, shopping and viewing habits, who our friends are, and our vices, likes, dislikes, relationship status and a myriad of other bits and pieces of activities and identifiable artefacts that comprise who we are.

And, Facebook, Instagram, Google, Amazon[9] and all the others ‘share’ this amongst themselves.

Sure, it’s ‘anonymized’: much in the same way that everyone can see it is definitely you throwing up over the side of that fishing boat on YouTube®, even though you are tagged as ‘MonkyBone44’ in the photos kind of anonymized.

So what, right? Everyone does this now. In fact, try to avoid getting facially recognized, even in crowds.[10] It’s impossible. The sheer volume of surveillance is astounding.

Again, so what?

WELL – Actuaries like to take all this ‘anonymized’ data, and merge it together, into what they call BIG DATA, to make huge analysis parties to predict behaviors.

Human behaviors. Yours. Mine. Ours.

And, guess what? They create algorithms to predict and run model scenarios and come up with statistics that will give them a pretty decent idea as to what your lavish, decadent and wanton lifestyle will do to your aging body as fleeting time takes its maddening toll.

 

A TIME FOR ALL SEASONS – OR SOMETHING SOMETHING DEATH AND TAXES

The other evening, as is my wont, I was enjoying an adult beverage, a nice cigar, and the night sky around the North Forty.

The buzzing flies were mostly absent, since it was still cool. Not exactly bonfire cold, but cool enough to think about making one. In the end, I decided that procrastination was the better part of being lazy, so I sat, illuminated only by the glowing ember of my smoke.

I’ve always like H. Upmann’s™. They burn evenly, have a good, mild taste, and last just long enough.

It’s moments such as this that become contemplative. And, when the gods decide to shoot a star across your field of vision, that momentary flash of light can bring thoughts of wishes – or the ever-nearing horizon of oblivion.

For, contrasted against the Universe, we are small, humble and insignificant. And, that pisses me off…

Since my prediction of COVID19[11] has come to pass, people look at me strangely.

I mean, sure, they used to look at me strangely before, too.

But now I notice they have this haunted look, as if they are one small, insignificant, random moment from annihilation. They avoid touching other humans, and scowl when you cough behind your flimsy face covering.

You can feel the terror metastasize when people ‘social distance’ themselves.

For an example, last January I was at Sea World®, and people would stand at least a few yards from me (and, each other).

Everyone was wearing masks.

The poor SW funployees pointed their fingers and cluck-clucked at you if your mask slipped, or you scratched your nose for a second. God forbid you sneezed!

“Please wear your mask for the safety of all of our patrons!” they’d say, smiling beneath their Shamu™ masks with their mouths, one supposes, while their eyes shot sleek, wet, dolphin-shaped daggers. [12]

I wandered about while my daughter and her friend rode the rollercoasters, sipping my lukewarm beer in the Florida sun.

Seeing all these people playing at accepting the ‘new normal,’ I ruminated on the previous times I had been at that same place, marking the changes silently.

What had happened to the Penguin Encounter™? How about the pink flamingo boats?

The Sky Tower© sat ominously vacant. And, why not?

I mean, who dared to ride the “Elevator of Possible Viral Doom?”

Think about that! What an exercise in trust, and staring right into the face of Death by plague!

There you would be, sitting in close proximity to dozens of total strangers, (most of whom were possibly from other countries; it was hard to tell, after all).

Everyone would stare out at the receding landscape as the tower symbolically brought us closer to Heaven, inhaling each other’s miasmas!

All that fear mirrored in everyone’s eyes…

But it was closed. Pity.

I could have used a bit of vicarious Edgar Allen Poe by that point. 

As I meandered the park, it felt positively Victorian; I am telling you!

I was surprised at the lack of Polly Penguin™ Beaked Plague Masks, or Terry Tiger Shark™ Theriac Paste for sale at the vendor’s booths.

Sure, they had Pepsi® Zero soft drinks and Shamu™ Vegan Ice Cream bars by the truckload, but ask some vendor for a decent poultice and you were met with vacant stares.

And, Disney™®© forbid you pull down your mask to make your incoherent mumbles more understood or legible.

“Sir! Please put your mask back on, IMMEDIATELY!” the startled ice-cream huckster would shout. “If you do not comply, we shall be forced to either eject you from the park, or see if we can launch you into the whale pool from the Mako Roller Coaster™!”

As they hissed you could read the secret longing in their dead-fish eyes that you would hesitate just long enough to allow them to act out on their rabid fantasy.

And, you instinctively knew you would not have been the first sacrifice to Poseidon – that day.


THEY CAME FOR THE X-MEN, BUT I WAS NOT A MUTANT

Then, there is the whole Nazi thing, regarding vaccination.

What?

You aren’t being asked to “Show your papers!”?

You have not yet been forced to provide evidence that you have indeed been given the jab in order to access some relatively normal public space?

Don’t worry, my good friend: it’s coming soon to a theater near you!

After all this confusing messaging, the immense angst and boredom of being cooped up, imprisoned in your own ‘home,’ when you walk around at a place like Sea World, you are just finally glad to be out of the confines of your habitat.

Now able to see the sun and smog and whatever, you’re so grateful that Big Brother has deemed it proper and given you ‘permission’ to just exist that you end up loving Him forever and ever.

Until, that is, you suddenly realize that every single person on the planet is really Death incarnate, that vegan Shamu®-popsicle paused just beneath your gaping jaw.

You spy a cute little girl with pigtails. She’s crawling with viral infection, from her rumpled dolly to her penny loafers.

A somewhat curvy woman goes jogging past, her head ensconced in some expensive, scientifically filtered mask, her ample bosom and buttocks bouncing hypnotically. (Hey, she’s been in quarantine for over a year, cut her some slack!) Bet she’s got the COVID!

Then there is the bearded weirdo whose mask is actually a skeletal face stitched onto a bandana. You do know that when he actually eats food, he uses that infernal, stained cloth to wipe infectious grease from his lips, right?

And, that’s just within three yards of the entrance to the Elementary School!

Yep, the Grim Reaper is open for business, and business is BOOMING!

 

KNEEL BEFORE DOOM

“But, A.E.!” you may be thinking. “What can we do?”

Not much.

Personally, I find bourbon helps.

Thanks to the magic of social media and sharing pretty much every inane thing you do, the way you interact with apps, your spending habits, and which sites you frequent, it is possible for the Powers That Be® to figure out just what kind of salami you like, and the probability that you will stop off at the pub for a beer and brat, and how many times a year you will do this.

AND – based on the data you are feeding your FIT-WATCH™, which is beaming all your vital signs to your app, you will get shamed into doing all manner of healthy behaviors!

Like running on a treadmill for forty-five seconds…and then making a beeline for your mini-fridge, where you keep a supply of mildly-flavored carbonated beverages.

As you wipe pretend sweat from your brow, and sip mineral water for five minutes, maybe you find yourself contemplating how many calories you just burned. (One.)

You sit idly, thinking about “Sweet Dreams Are Made of This” by the Eurhythmics® for some odd reason.

It’s weird because it’s the song your ex dumped you over, and also because you’ve got Billy Eilish™ playing on your Beats® beaming tuneless noise directly into your aural cortex.

So, you towel off a rivulet of mineral water drool, and walk over to your desk.

Leaning against the burled wood, gasping for breath, tired from pretending that your exertions are in any manner healthy, you ask Siri the most important question any human can ask of anyone, be they Human, God, or A.I.:

“Siri, when am I going to die?”

A few seconds pause, and then comes the answer.

“You are going to die in five,” comes Siri’s mechanical, soothing, artificial voice.

“Five what?”

“Five. Four. Three. Two…”           

Your throat closes with fear as you drop your mineral water, and it bounces across the marble tile floor, coming to rest under an ergonomic chair, the precious fluids draining onto the floor, much as the color is draining from your increasingly pallid face.

Your visage contorted in terror, you manage to find enough breath in your shriveled lungs for a penultimate, plaintive howl of anguish. Your hands rush to the side of your face, Munch-like, and you cry out your final word.

“ALEXA!” you scream, as the Darkness closes in, and you hear your Mother, as near to you as your green bottle of Soylent.

 

BUT DON’T WORRY

You suddenly wake up, damp from the nightmarish dream.

Your heart is pounding, as you turn on the lamp on the stand next to your bed.

Your iPhone glows warmly, as if mocking you.

With a grimace, you flip your finger across in a familiar pattern, unlocking the marvels of this technological wonder.

You quickly glance over the screen, and a single message catches your eye.

“Stacey David/Gearz - Speed Racer's Mach 5”[13]

 

A.E. Williams

High Springs, Florida

March 31, 2021



[1] It still is, but it used to be, too. Thanks, Mitch!

[2] One might imagine him polishing his tool at the end of each episode until it gleamed, tall and tanned and glistening with lube! I wouldn’t, but ONE might…

[3] You know which ones I mean, right? Don’t you ever catch your dead Mother sitting in the empty passenger seat, her pale visage looking sadly at you, shaking her head mournfully, out of the corner of your eye? Her dead eyes wordlessly judge your entire being. You can hear her rattling voice, worn by years of smoking unfiltered cigarettes, directly in your brain, yes?

“Such a disappointment! And to think, nine months and eleven days in my loving womb, and then eighteen years of sacrifice, not to mention those expensive viola lessons! And then you ended up marrying that loser? The bastard who divorced you over his secretary!? I warned you, but you never listened to me, did you? Not even that time I told you that dog biscuits aren’t cookies! Miss Smarty Pants! Look at you now! Yes, I know you FEEL like a man, but you were born with the same bits I was, you tart! Don’t give ME that side-eye! Pay attention to your driving, you almost ran over that squirrel! Possum, squirrel, whatever!” Etc… It’s enough to make you seriously consider seeing how much damage a car can make on a bridge piling at 120 miles per hour, isn’t it? Go ahead. **** her judgmental ass!

[4] You do realize I am just inserting random characters here? Like this

[5] But wait! Soon, you will all be reunited in heavenly bliss! Maybe…

 The family that consumes together combusts together, or something like that. I don’t know. Lucifer won’t speak to me after “Imperious Wrecks.” He blames me for Trump losing the election.

[6] Good God, isn’t THAT an oxymoron! Heads would explode with irony, if only more people knew what irony actually is!

[7] Severed-head cryonics is SO old-school. Older than the term ‘old-school’!

[8] Not just in the poor countries. Heck, those places aren’t even used in calculating these kinds of numbers. Just statistically insignificant!

[9] The symbol insertion is getting tedious. Take it as read that I do it from now on, if I miss any, ok?

[10] I call it ‘getting a facial’, but then again, I am a writer. 

[12] I mean, you’d think I had personally made “Blackfish!”

About A.E. Williams:


A.E. Williams has a unique background of military experience, aerospace engineering and intelligence analysis. He has a varied career, from inventor to consultant, and pretty much everything in between.

Born near Pittsburgh, A.E. Williams is man of a mystery.

As a young man, Williams served the United States government in various capacities, which he then followed with fifteen years as a consultant. Williams currently resides in rural Central Florida.

He does his writing at night, usually accompanied by a bottle of Maker's Mark bourbon and a large supply of Classic Dr. Pepper and ice.