The Final Solution

With population pressures putting all humanity at peril, we took upon ourselves to create a solution. In a sense our virus was intelligent. It would attack only those with certain genetic traits.

Our goal was to reduce humanity's numbers to a sustainable level of about four billion. Since the white race is responsible for  civilization's advancements we designed our bug to attack those with dark skin pigmentation.

History has shown that great discoveries are often made simultaneously in different places. Still, we never imagined that those clever Chinese would created a virus that only spared those with epicanthic eye folds.

Twit-fic!

I asked, God what's the meaning of life?

God said, do you play chess?

I said yes.

God said, then think of yourself as a pawn.

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Everything I touch turns to gold but my touch can't create mass. The Earth will soon be much smaller, but it will be shiny.

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Elija's Biblical numerology proves that the Internet is Satan's tool. Unfortunately he has no way to inform the world.

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You wiped out everybody but Noah?

He obeyed me when nobody else would. If his offspring do the same humanity will be fine.

Friends

"That's a fabulous idea," Jack types.

"You're a genius!", keys Michelle.

I like Michelle - sometimes she sends me intimate photos.

"It will be a money machine." I said. "Create an on-line subscription service with artificial intelligence 'friends' for losers. Everyone needs a support group."

"Green! Green!", Sally says. " My hero!"

"Gotta go.", I type.

My screen lights up with salutations.

"Text me later.", says Michelle.

I sign out of Eliza.com and heft my four hundred pounds from the chair where I'd spent my day.

And my family said I'd never amount to anything.

"They'll see.", I tell myself.

Twit-fic!

I live in my cell with my computer. Everything I know about the world I learned from Facebook. Please don't make me leave.

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The Monsanto agent says "We're not liable."

My car's last tire pops. The weevils pause but soon return to their feeding.

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I used to write drabbles but they've lost their audience. In today's world no one will take the time to read the classics.

Cindy

When Cindy wouldn't go out with me, I got some of her DNA. It wasn't difficult.

Now I have my own Cindy. I can do things to her that if I did to the real Cindy they would lock me up and throw away the key.

She's mine because I made her.The church says she doesn't have a soul.The law says that she's not a person.

I unlock the door to her room. Cindy whimpers. I don't think she'll last much longer. That's OK. I have more Cindys growing in their jars.

It's good to be a god.

Twit-fic!

Mental-networking technology seemed brilliant. It made telepathy real. Then we learned how contagious insanity is.

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.