Okay, so I bought myself a smartphone. It’s got a screen you can touch. You can load programs into it, they call them apps these days.
It has more power in it than they had in all the computers back in the Sixties. Which, yeah, it sounds impressive, but people had a hell of a lot more fun back in the Sixties with rock and roll, free love, and all the weed you could smoke.
Here I am, alone with this thing I my hand, tapping at it like a raccoon compulsively washing it’s food.
Smartphone? Kinda dumb to me.
Category: My stories
Burn The Ballots
General Molotov ordered the ballots burned, declaring martial law.
When the people whispered revolution, the state police arrested any they thought capable of that threat.
Even the would-be president, who was put under house arrest.
He looked over the papers, nodded, and asked for supplies necessary to endure his imprisonment.
The general looked over the list, found some items unusual, but had them delivered anyway.
Down in the basement, workmen assembled an engine and a massive pair of legs, and soon enough the house got up and walked into the capitol.
The general’s last words were: “Wipe your feet, please.”
But With A Whimper
So, the world ended yesterday.
After years and years of people saying the end was near, when it finally came, it wasn’t really all so bad.
In fact, if people had known exactly how the world was going to end, I don’t think they’d have freaked out about it so much.
Especially the guys walking around in sandwichboards, waving signs and shouting THE END OF THE WORLD IS NIGH!
When the end came, I saw one of those guys just sitting there and smiling.
So, I joined him, and we watched the world end together.
And the new one begin.
Christmas 2010
Despite the cold, I will go out today. I do this every Christmas.
I bundle myself up with a thick coat, woolen cap, gloves, and scarf.
Then, I walk the streets, handing out ten dollar bills to the homeless.
“Go get yourself something,” I say. “Merry Christmas.”
They smile and thank me: “Bless you!”
I don’t wait. I keep walking, handing out more bills.
When I run out, I put my cap, scarf, and coat on a sleeping drunk.
Yeah, they money’s counterfeit. Witnesses will point this dumb sap out to the cops.
Time to move to a new city.
Baby Brother
Lisa’s parents knew what would be on the Christmas List.
The same thing she’d asked for every year: a baby brother.
Her birth had been difficult. The doctors had performed a hysterectomy to stop the bleeding.
And her parents didn’t want to adopt or hire a surrogate.
“You’re plenty enough,” they said to Lisa.
So, she took matters into her own hands.
Sure, the paper said it was an electrical short from the tree.
Lisa said she saw smoke, rescued the neighbor’s baby first, couldn’t go back in because of the flames.
Just wait until she wants a baby sister.
Downsizing
Remember “Peace on Earth, Good Will To All Men?”
Well, there’s a new phrase making the rounds this holiday season: “Do More With Less.”
Everybody’s suffering. Even Santa’s workshop.
He laid off a bunch of elves. Elf unemployment’s awful The cookie and shoe manufacturing industries have been automating production and moving factories to China.
He doesn’t need the reindeer either. Now he just delivers stuff through Fedex or UPS, whatever’s cheapest.
Pretty soon, he’ll just do it all through Amazon or iTunes.
Mrs. Claus wants to retire to Florida.
Real estate’s cheap there.
And not a fucking frozen wasteland, either.
Everybody wants
I remember when the Christmas gift that everybody wanted was a new electronic toy or gadget.
Teddy bears that played storytelling tapes.
Video games.
Plastic spiders you could throw at the wall and watch them crawl down it.
As computing and materials sciences advanced, so did the latest and greatest holiday gifts.
Everybody wants it. And so do you.
Now that things have taken a turn for the worse, you’re lucky to get clothes, used or new.
Or, for the truly desperate, somewhere warm to sleep…
No, the world doesn’t end with a bang or a whimper, but Christmas carols.
Summertime
As you freeze your ass off in the dead of Winter, someone down in Australia is working on their tan in the peak of Summer.
The doctors look over your fingers to see how bad the frostbite damage is.
You’ll recover. Just get better gloves for the next time.
The Australian, however, won’t know about the spot on her back for months.
By then, it’ll be too late. The melanoma will have spread into her lungs and pancreas and…
It’s hard to dig a grave in winter.
What do you care? You’ll be on the beach, tanning.
Need some sunblock?
Outsourced
Up until now, I helped move call center jobs to India.
But that wasn’t enough for the shareholders, and they wanted more return on their investment.
So, I worked with a friend at Temporal Labs, and we started up a helpdesk based on workers in the future.
“It’s a quantum tunnel communications channel,” I said. “Expensive, but permanent. The great thing is, they know how things turn out in the future, so they can send answers back to us.”
I guess leaving our debts to our grandchildren wasn’t enough. Now we make them answer all of our stupid questions, too.
Seeds
On the eve of her return to the land of the living, Hades thanked Persephone for her company.
He handed her a map with some wine and food, in case she got hungry along the way.
The next morning, Persephone began her journey.
It took longer than the journey to Hell, and she sat by a stream to rest.
She drank some wine, ate some food.
Then she realized: it was the rest of that apple.
“Six more seeds,” grinned Hades. “That makes twelve. The world is mine.”
Far above them, leaves turned brown again, and snow began to fall.