So, this is it… at last. I wish I could say this was a pleasant surprise, but it’s neither a surprise nor, as you will surely agree, very pleasant. Well, I’m nothing if not pragmatic.
Well then, Concerned, under other circumstances I like to think we might have been able to work together in an atmosphere of mutual trust and respect. Certainly judging from your brief tenure at the research facility, while I was it’s administrator, you showed every promise of becoming a valuable and productive contributor to the scientific process. And yet, I’m not sure what spurred you to it, but there is really no place in this enterprise for a rogue physicist.
Your mentors are partly to blame, of course; my disappointment in Rebel #594 and Citizen #X74B is far greater than my sorrow over your unfortunate choice of career path. In a way I suppose you could not have done otherwise. Who knows what seeds of iconoclasm they planted when you were young and gullible? But while they certainly share a great part of the responsibility, for the recent troubles, it is you alone who have chosen to act with such wilful disregard for humanity’s future.
Tell me, doctor, if you can: you have destroyed so much — what is it exactly that you have created? Can you name even one thing? … I thought not.
I have laid the foundation for humanity’s survival, and not as we have narrowly defined ourselves but as something greater than we could ever imagine, something that we can now only begin to glimpse.
Look, take a well-considered look at what you are throwing away. Is it worth it?
I’d like to take a moment to address you directly, doctor.
Yes. I’m talking to you, the so-called man of the way. I have a question for you. How could you have thrown it all away? It staggers the mind. A man of science, with the ability to sway reactionary and fearful minds toward the truth, choosing instead to embark on a path of ignorance and decay. Make no mistake, doctor. This is not a scientific revolution you have sparked – this is death and finality.
You have plunged humanity into freefall. Even if you offered your surrender now, I cannot guarantee that our benefactors would accept it. At the moment, I fear they have begun to look upon even me with suspicion. So much for serving as humanity’s representative.
Help me win back their trust, doctor. Surrender while you still can. Help ensure that humanity’s trust in you is not misguided.
I have been asked to say a few words to the upcoming Trans-Human arm of Sector Region Citadel, concerning recent successes in containing members of the resistance Science Team. Let me say up front that I regret having to temper my heartfelt congratulations with a strong measure of disappointment. But I wouldn’t be doing my duty as your Administrator if I didn’t pass along the message I have received from our Benefactors.
The capture of a previously named Rebel-leader #594 is an event of major significance, make no mistake. And while it’s true that conceivably we could have taken him at almost any time in the last several years, the manner of his capture may prove to have unexpected benefits. It cannot have gone unnoticed by all resistance members that Rebel-leader #594’s capture coincided with the act of giving shelter to that one disastrous man of future. This might cause other resistance members to think twice before harbouring the infinitesimal scientist. It might cause them to question his allegiance; even prompt some to turn him out, or turn him over to our cause. However, we cannot count on such developments. The doctor’s reputation is such that other desperate renegades are likely to grant him a great deal of license in the spirit of spreading general chaos and terror.
This brings me to the one note of disappointment I must echo from our Benefactors. Obviously I am not on the ground to closely command or second-guess the dedicated forces of the Citadel, but this does not mean I can shirk responsibility for recent lapses and even outright failures on their part. I have been severely questioned about these shortcomings, and now must put the question to you: How could one man have slipped through your force’s fingers time and time again? How is it possible? This is not some agent provocateur or highly trained assassin we are discussing. The man of future, is a theoretical physicist who had hardly earned the distinction of his Ph.D. at the time of the research facility incident. I have good reason to believe that in the intervening years, he was in a state that precluded further development of covert skills. The man you have consistently failed to slow, let alone capture, is by all standards simply that–an ordinary man. How can you have failed to apprehend him? Well…I will leave the upbraiding for another time, to the extent it proves necessary.
Now is the moment to redeem yourselves. If the transhuman forces are to prove themselves an indispensable augmentation to the Universal Union Citadel, they will have to earn the privilege. I’m sure I don’t have to remind you that the alternative, if you can call it that, is total extinction – in union with all the other unworthy branches of the species. Let’s not allow it to come to that. I have done my best to convince our Benefactors that you are the finest the species has to offer. So far they have accepted my argument, but without concrete evidence to back it up, my words sound increasingly hollow – even to me.
The burden of proof is on you. As is the consequence of failure. I’ll just leave it at that.
To all viewers, we now have direct confirmation of a disruptor in our midst, one who has acquired an almost messianic reputation in the minds of certain citizens. His figure is synonymous with the darkest urges of instinct, ignorance and decay. Some of the worst excesses of the well-known research facility incident have been laid directly at his feet. And yet unsophisticated minds continue to imbue him with romantic power, giving him such dangerous poetic labels as the man of future, the opener of the way.
Let me remind all citizens of the dangers of magical thinking. We have scarcely begun to climb from the dark pit of our species’ evolution. Let us not slide backward into oblivion, just as we have finally begun to see the light. If you see this so-called future man, report him. Civic deeds do not go unrewarded. And contrariwise, complicity with his cause will not go unpunished.
Be wise. Be safe. Be aware.
“Dear Consul. Why has the Universal Union seen fit to suppress our reproductive cycle? Sincerely, A Concerned Citizen.”
Thank you for writing, Concerned. Of course your question touches on one of the basic biological impulses, with all its associated hopes and fears for the future of the species. I also detect some unspoken questions. Do our benefactors really know what’s best for us? What gives them the right to make this kind of decision for mankind? Will they ever deactivate the suppression field and let us breed again?
Allow me to address the anxieties underlying your concerns, rather than try to answer every possible question you might have left unvoiced. First, let us consider the fact that for the first time ever, as a species, immortality is in our reach. This simple fact has far-reaching implications. It requires radical rethinking and revision of our genetic imperatives. It also requires planning and forethought that run in direct opposition to our neural pre-sets.
I find it helpful at times like these to remind myself that our true enemy is INSTINCT. Instinct was our mother when we were an infant species. Instinct coddled us and kept us safe in those hardscrabble years when we hardened our sticks and cooked our first meals above a meager fire and stared at the shadows that leapt upon the cavern’s walls. But inseparable from Instinct is its dark twin, Superstition. Instinct is inextricably bound to unreasoning impulses, and today we clearly see its true nature. Instinct has just become aware of its irrelevance, and like a cornered beast, it will not go down without a bloody fight. Instinct would inflict a fatal injury on our species. Instinct creates its own oppressors, and bids us rise up against them. Instinct tells us that the unknown is a threat, rather than an opportunity. Instinct slyly and covertly compels us away from change and progress. Instinct, therefore, must be expunged. It must be fought tooth and nail, beginning with the basest of human urges: The urge to reproduce.
We should thank our benefactors for giving us respite from this overpowering force. They have thrown a switch and exorcised our demons in a single stroke. They have given us the strength we never could have summoned to overcome this compulsion. They have given us purpose. They have turned our eyes toward the stars.
Let me assure you that the suppressing field will be shut off on the day that we have mastered ourselves – the day we can prove we no longer need it. And that day of transformation, I have it on good authority, is close at hand.
It has come to my attention that some have lately called me a collaborator, as if such a term were shameful. I ask you, what greater endeavour exists than that of collaboration? In our current unparalleled enterprise, refusal to collaborate is simply a refusal to grow — an insistence on suicide, if you will.
Did the lungfish refuse to breathe air? It did not. It crept forth boldly while its brethren remained in the blackest ocean abyss, with lidless eyes forever staring at the dark, ignorant and doomed despite their eternal vigilance. Would we model ourselves on the trilobite? Are all the accomplishments of humanity fated to be nothing more than a layer of broken plastic shards thinly strewn across a fossil bed, sandwiched between the Burgess Shale and an eon’s worth of mud?
In order to be true to our nature, and our destiny, we must aspire to greater things. We have outgrown our cradle. It is futile to cry for mother’s milk, when our true sustenance awaits us among the stars. And only the Universal Union that small minds call the “Unseen Benefactors” can carry us there.
Therefore I say, yes, I am a collaborator. We must all collaborate, willingly, eagerly, if we expect to reap the benefits of unification. And reap we shall.
You could consider this The Guys Minus Me PART2, after shamefully forgetting another four important icons when it comes down to music. First of all I’d like to thank my acquaintance Rudi E. Peefy for reminding me – in fact I’ll quote him right here;
Hello J.B., you forgot Jacques Brel – unless that is you.
G’job mate.
Here we go, strap on your seatbelts for round 2.
Jacques Brel
Ramses Shaffy
Herman van Veen
Toon Hermans
BACK in ye good olde days, days filled with the joys of walking hours through a desert of snow to work – people used to know what was truly important to them. By now you must be thinking “That can’t be right” but unfortunately you are mistaken. Before man made a car, man had to walk to work to invent it. Of course the weather was never in their favour – sun shining in their eyes, icicles hanging from their ears – reason enough to create men’s worst nightmare. In a harsh winter there are only two things worse than freezing toes; snow-balls and Traffic.
These days men have turned into soft and caring goody-gundrops (you too, ladies.) People now care about preserving nature instead of eating it. They believe it’s alright to simply stand in line waiting to get somewhere – instead of actually getting there. Has evolution taught you nothing? Come on, men! (you too, ladies!) grab yourself together and sweep some floors. People never used to care about traveling hours on end to get where they had to be, ..then again they had the time for it. Even animals knew when to hold their horses, these days they’re tweeting about extinction like a true plague.
“Sheep don’t even drive cars!” – You’re right and a quick catch, worthy reader of my time. We were on about traffic.
Traffic’s driven so far into my life it even took a hold on this website. Don’t worry guys, I’ve got the traffic monitored. In fact I’ll give you a complimentary example of all the international traffic I’ve dealt with the past few weeks.
Countries
Pages
Hits
Bandwidth
Netherlands
nl
2003
4032
55.56 MB
United States
us
396
675
7.43 MB
Spain
es
220
546
6.67 MB
Great Britain
gb
80
266
7.39 MB
Norway
no
36
109
2.72 MB
Canada
ca
28
105
2.20 MB
European country
eu
12
54
798.76 KB
Australia
au
11
48
1.75 MB
Germany
de
10
10
116.44 KB
France
fr
5
8
445.78 KB
Sweden
se
5
5
0
Others
0
0
0
There you have it, traffic monitored. “That can’t be all!” You scream at me, “You’re right!” I scream right back at you. I’ve managed to CAPTURE the traffic on film, Photo-Film to be precise. Taking high quality photographs using my high-tech photocamera, I’ve created something spectacular and innovating. This is something people have never seen before – so strap on your seat belts and wear your safety 3-d goggles because you’re in for the ride of your life. FILM, film is the key here – by showing you a series of photographs quickly after one another, film is created. An animated selection of traffic, if you may. Produced by the finest of the photofilmography industries, I present to you TRAFFIC.
Of course this fine piece of photofilmography runs in 1080p quality (damn modern technology), those of us with computers and/or internet from the stone age – I politely request to either decrease the video quality or to live a little.
By now you must be wondering “After all that time, THIS is what you show us?” – yes. There is however a bit more. After the great success I had with my semi-new photocamera, I decided to get an upgrade. Not just any upgrade, but an upgrade back into the past. Back before pictograph-boxes were made using wood – but with carton and wit. Using this paper-weight camera I snapped some shots of my role model, lead photographer at the scene (that’d be me). I’m going to subtly link to two images taken with the new pictograph-machinery somewhere along these lines. Now that that’s over with, a final conclusion word.
Traffic of any kind is a pain, but it’s never as bad as snow-balls.
