Death by Facebook (Pyrrhic Victory)

In politics the competition to sway public opinion is fierce. Every strategy is used to gain an edge. Talk radio, tv and attack ads are mainstays. With social media came new opportunities.

Peer pressure is a powerful tool. Third world labor was initially used to befriend and manipulate voters, but it quickly became obsolete.

When the crops failed the city dwellers went first. Bubba lasted a little longer but not by much.

Deep in caverns, solar powered servers humm and the debate continues. On Facebook the bots arguing that global warming doesn't exist outnumber their opponents by fifty to one.

Constructs

All my life I've wondered about the big questions. Why is the universe like it is? Why does the act of observation change a wave into a particle?

When I read an article about procedural software generation the pieces came together. The universe must game, defined by the participant's actions.

With that understanding I realized that I must be the player, with everyone else just being constructs. So why not have some fun? I collected my guns.

Meanwhile, across town, Sam cleaned his new sniper rifle. He'd just joined the SWAT team and really wanted to shoot someone.

Death's Day Off

I'm not a bad guy but my job tends to put people off. Halloween's my special day. It's my chance to be among ordinary folk. They treat me like it's all in good fun.

Of course when I'm not on the job someone has to pick up the slack. I've been training a new assistant and thought that Halloween would give him a chance to prove himself.

The work's not difficult but is detail oriented. Leave even a tiny spec of soul behind and what do you have? A zombie.

What a mess! Good help really is hard to find.

Twit-fic!

The yowling cry has an unearthly cadence like the scream of a damned soul. I can't weaken. The vet's office isn't far now.

The Adventure

Journal entry, date unknown.

This may be my final entry. What began as a day's adventure quickly became a descent into hell.

My lamp's batteries are waning. My food and water are depleted. I've been threatened by a giant snake and a bear. I feel like I'm being watched. Did I really  hear a hollow voice speak that strange word in some foreign language?

I only hope that someday someone will find this journal so that my family will know what happened to me.

I never dreamt that my life would end in a twisty maze of passages, all alike.

The Gift That Keeps On Giving

I'm a big guy but a grass skirt hides a lot.The Pikake Maile leaf headband is skillfully fitted as are leaf bands around my ankles and wrists. They symbolizes that I'm to be a bride.My bare breasts are old man breasts.

I'm not a virgin in the traditional sense, but I've never laid with a man. That's all that's really needed. The gods are powerful, but they're not very smart.

I'm old and I'd hate to see some bright young kid robbed of her future. So I walk to the edge and look down into the volcano.

Twit-fic!

With the government shut down, NASA's twitter feed went dark. Sensing that their chance had come the asteroids struck!

Genocide

We were the enlightened, educated ones. As a people we aspired to justice, art and knowledge of the world around us. We built a society based on fairness and wisdom but in the end it was all for naught.

Our women chose their own reproductive destinies. In contrast our distant cousins treated their women as chattel and their numbers outpaced ours. While we were guided by reason, their leaders used  violence. In the end we were victims of genocide, brutally slaughtered to the last.

Now, adding insult to the ultimate injury, the humans have despoiled the once proud name Neanderthal.

Twit-fic!

Studying the master's music, I felt as if his spirit possessed mine. Only then could I understand his Demon's Serenade.

Manifest Destiny

New Earth was 2000 light years away. It was discovered at a time when colonizing a new world was was a necessity, not an option. 

Our ancestors poured all the resources of our dying world into fleets of colony ships intended to give humanity a second chance.

Born on a ship that had been in deep space for a millennium, I witnessed the other fleet of colony ships. They flashed by us at near the speed of light, traveling towards the blackened planet that we had left behind.

It was then that I realized how totally screwed we all were.

Twit-fic!

Though your belief created me I AM your God. My existence is beyond life and death, time and space. Worship me and be food.

Twit-fic!

Writing a Google Glass hypnotizing plugin is easy. That's why a nerd succeeded where so many mad scientists had failed.

Twit-fic!

The Google Glass "From Beyond" plugin was popular at first but the coder forgot that if we can see them they can see us too.

Twit-fic!

Boredom is the curse of an immortal. To save my sanity I die vicariously through the fear and pain of creatures I destroy.

Twit-fic!

Discovery of the multiverse ended the science vs. religion debate. Gibbering scientists became Azathoth's priests.

Twit-fic!

After spending several days browsing Facebook, God decided that he finally had enough information to judge humanity.

Twit-fic!

A blast shattered the disco, yet the dancers kept lurching as the PA pounded out "Ah, ah, ah, ah, stayin' ali-i-i-i-ive"

Trust Me

They say that none come back from the other side. That's not quite true. Some do. I did.

If only I could speak I would explain all the wonderful things I've seen. But I'm afraid that my capacity for speech, along with so much else of my fleshy body, has fallen away.

I know that you don't understand it, but I really only want the best for you.This bloody axe is the doorway to a much better existence. Please don't fight it. What I do, I do out of love.

This is for your own good. Please trust me.

The Myth of Charles Van Doren

"Digital cameras have made film obsolete. My job is to certify that photographic evidence introduced at trial is untainted by digital manipulation.I use sophisticated programs to analyze images for photoshopping and computer graphics. To validate the equipment I analyze pre-digital era photographs."

Sam paused, as if uncertain how to proceed.

"I received a new software release and my validation tests began to fail. The results say that every photo taken before 1960 that I've tested is computer generated. What can it mean?"

"It's obvious.", Lisa replied. "This just proves that the 1950s mythologized by conservatives never really existed."