The Old Man who Knew

The Old Man who Knew.jpg

There was a great carpet dwelling above the world. Inside it. Around it. It was conscious, yet not intelligent. Awake, but it did not think. One, a spectre of selves, everywhere and nowhere. No one knew how it worked, not even itself. It was pure observation. It knew, but did not calculate. It felt, but did not care. It was existence. Reality. Nothing more. Nothing less.

The old man sat by the window, looking out on the valley he’d lived in all his life. He knew everything about that valley. Every little rock, every old tree stump. He loved it. The valley was the best place on Earth for him.

He walked out on the porch. Watching the little lake. He knew the little lake. He the kinds of fish swimming in it. He knew how to catch them. He knew how which berries there was in the forest on the other side, which mushrooms he could eat and which ones he could not. He sat down on his old stool, as he had done so many times before.

He knew a lot. He knew how the flowers bloomed at springtime. How the hills exploded in colours in autumn. He knew how it felt to love and he knew the pain of hate. He knew the arouse of glory, the deep sorrow of loss. He knew. He knew a lot.

A cat came by. He knew the cat.

Hello, little cat, he said cheerfully. The cat came to him, stroking itself to his leg.

You’re a friendly little chap, aren’t you! Said the old man. The cat purred, enjoying the old man’s company.

He did not know if the cat was a he or a she, but knew it was not important for him to know. The cat was his friend, and friends were good to have.

He was old now. Very old. He knew life was coming to it’s end, and he wasn’t sad about it. He’d lived. He’d had a rich life, with sorrows and laughs. He wouldn’t have been without any of them. Even the painful ones.

Today he was looking out on the field in front of his house. Something dark was hanging over the grass. Over the trees. And he knew. He knew his time had come, he’d lived for a long time now. And he knew there was nothing to fear. As death came, he closed his eyes and accepted. Time had come.

A little frog opened it’s eyes in a swamp in Amazonas.

https://kavarastories.com/2017/05/31/knowledge-unconsumed/

https://yashmody.wordpress.com/2016/12/26/self-consciousness-vs-self-awareness/

Fate

Aether

Aether

The Void Project was going several times light speed through the emptiness of the Dipole Repeller. A void of emptiness in space. No stars. No galaxies. No matter of any kind.

We’re loosing speed, Captain! First pilot Rebecca Larson was switching switches, pulling levers and pushing buttons all at once. This was bad.

She was of the best pilots of the old solar system. She’d been travelling the galaxy and she had been part of the Andromeda V project, an intergalactic journey of importance.

This was different. They were crossing total emptiness. Not so many centuries ago people had believed in a lot of restrictions. Light speed as an upper limit of velocity was one of them.

They were proving that exploiting the energy of the void was the fastest way of moving man had ever known. The dark energy was inexhaustible. They were accelerating at an enormous rate, literally being sucked through space. Until now.

What? What do you mean we’re loosing speed? That’s impossible. We should be increasing velocity  faster than ever.

I know, but we’re loosing speed. Fast. We’ve…. Stopped.

Captain Naufrago watched the screen in front of his first pilot in disbelief. It was true. The ship didn’t move at all.

We’ve stopped. I can’t believe it. We’ve fucking stopped

There was no way to get a ship started in the extreme emptiness of the void. They were stuck half way through. No one had ever been in more trouble.

C-captain… Said Rebecca. Captain Naufrago looked out of the huge energy field window in front. There was something there. In the total darkness ahead, something was moving. Eyes were staring at them. Eyes big as galaxies. Pupils dark as black holes.

The instruments showed nothing, there was nothing around them at all. Still they could see it. Feel it. It was watching them. Something was there, and it was big. Vast as the universe itself.

Graaaargghhhssssss…

A strange sound of horror. The vessel was vibrating. Sound should be impossible in the total lack of substance they were in, but still, there it was. Darkness. Evil. They knew what it was. It was nothingness. Aether. Where gods could not exist, were souls were devoured by madness.

A hand stretched out towards them. It had fingers impossible to count, claws of unseen dimensions. Terror of depths never known.

It took hold of their ship.

No one spoke. No panic, no intent of defence. There was nothing anyone could do. The walls started crunching in. All hope was lost.

Fire!  Water  Air (Earth)

https://www.nature.com/articles/s41550-016-0036

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Aether_(classical_element)

http://hubblesite.org/explore_astronomy/hubbles_universe_unfiltered/blogs/qna-what-fills-the-empty-space-between-galaxies

https://www.forbes.com/sites/bridaineparnell/2017/01/31/dipole-repeller-discovered/#355319d1586ahttps://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Aether_(classical_element)

http://newatlas.com/dipole-repeller-void-pushing-milky-way/47648/

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dark_energyhttps://arxiv.org/pdf/1702.02483.pdf

http://atlasoftheuniverse.com/superc.html

Quantities Of Alteration 

This week has become, almost by coincidence, my classic elements week. As many of you already know, I’m quite good at reblogging. This is a beautiful post from a fantastic blog I found yesterday, which even gives an extra dimension to my theme-week. Please stop by tomorrow for the grand finale.

koko boocro


​Quantities Of Alteration
With all that was to be

Every increment gained

Was aimed at the target

To be reached eventually

Each small step ahead

Had in it the momentum

Of what propels souls

To be consistently uplifted

The gaps would be bridged

With the hearts certainty

Of how things must become

By implementing knowledge

Unwavering and determined

Taking what life has to offer

Making the alterations needed

And enduring its pace and timing

While chance continues to change

There is no earthly undertaking

Which with focused effort

Stand to fall outside the range

When at full concentration

The elements and their potency

Are beyond all capacity to measure

The exact quantities of alteration
Ria 2017

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Air (Earth)

Air (Earth).jpg

Ronny was falling. He had a parachute on his back. He loved parachuting. He was going to pull the string quite soon, he just wanted to feel the wind in his face and the sensation of flying a little longer.

Hey!

What the…. Something was talking to him. Just beside his head.

Hey! You! Yes, you!

Who… what…. Who… There really could not be anyone there, he was ten thousand feet up.

You’re fallin’, aren’t you! Said the strange voice with genuine interest.

Where are you?

Right beside you, said the voice. Under you. Even inside you, really!

You are…. Air? Ronny almost had to laugh. This was just silly.

Bingo! I’m what making your clothes move so funnily right now, my friend. Air is the name. At your service!

But how come you talk? I never heard you talk before?

That’s because you didn’t listen. I’m quite a talker really. I shout when the storms throw your boats around, I whisper when the wind makes the leaves move in the trees…

This had to be the biggest discovery in history. But would anyone believe him? This could be his great chance, but he needed proof. Air kept chatting away.

…I even talk on a silent summer day, if you just listened close enough.  I talk a lot! Just ask Earth. There he comes. Hey, Earth! Tell hi…

Aaaaaaaaahsplacrash!!!

Tell him what? Asked Earth. Air was looking at the broken body on the ground.

Nothing. Never mind.

Earth looked at the stain on his skin, frowning in disgust and annoyance.

You talk too much, you know that?

Thanks, but it’s too late now. He can’t hear you.

http://www.thewhitegoddess.co.uk/the_elements/air.asp

https://keerthanagaganna.com/2017/05/31/trace/

Fire!

Water

Water.jpg

On an idyllic little lake deep in the forest there’s a little boat. The silence is only broken by the water splashing against it, the oars breaking the surface.

Ouch!

Mike stops. It came from under the hull. Is there someone there? The boat floats forwards for a short while. It stops, wagging in the small movements in the lake. He looks over the edge.

Be careful, stupid! Watch where you’re going!

There’s a little bulb in the surface of the water. It has a face. Mike’s eyes grow in astonishment..

What are you? He says in deep awe.

What does it look like I am, stupid? I’m water.

Water? Mike’s confused. But… but water doesn’t talk?

Water doesn’t talk, water doesn’t talk, the water mocks. Water talks when water fucking wants to talk. Thing is humans aren’t really that interesting for conversation,. but you pissed me off. Get lost!

It disappears. Not the water, of course. The face.

Mike is sitting there. The water just spoke to him. Was he going crazy? He’s trying to make sense of it all. He decides he cannot, and starts rowing in towards shore.

Ouch! He hears again. -That’s it, asshole. That’s it.

Mike looks over the edge. There’s nothing there.

I’m under here, coward! He leans further out.

A wave comes out of nowhere, knocks the boat from the other side. It goes round. Mike falls head first into the pond.

Get him, guys! The water creature things attack him. They punch him in the face with their water hands. It’s quite annoying. They keep splashing their fists in his face as he swims towards the shore. He gets up on the the bank.

And stay out!

Haha! The creatures slaps hand, satisfied with their victory. Yeah! Stupid human. We showed him, didn’t we. That’ll teach him a lesson. So they go on for a while.

They disappear, the surface is once again still.

Mike sits on the shore for a while looking at the lake. That was the strangest thing he’d ever experienced. Once again he shrugs it off, and walks up to his cottage. Probably better not to think too much about it.

https://artsurdo.wordpress.com/2017/02/28/agua/

https://aljathewriter.wordpress.com/2011/12/06/lady-of-the-lake-flash-fiction/

Lake Fear

Fire!

Fire!.jpg

The flames were licking the wood in the vividly burning fireplace. Silence. Everything was beautiful. Johnny was just going to relax tonight, he’d even switched off his phone.

The flames looked almost like living things, small creatures jumping around the black wood. They…. were little creatures! Johnny was astonished. Little monsters was running around, jumping, dancing. They had little heads, two feet and two arms.

He moved closer. What are they? One on them looked at him. Laughing. It was chopping on to the log with an axe of fire, seeming to form part of him, mixed together in the way of flames. It punched an other one, occupied digging his little claws into the wood, on the shoulder. The other turned. It seemed amused as well.

They jumped forward as if they wanted to look closer. Out of the fireplace, down on the wooden floor. Johnny was too astonished to really understand anything. They seemed to have some sort of intelligence, they seemed to be curious about him. They were standing there, contemplating him. Exchanging words or something between them. The wood underneath them was getting black. Smoke.

Fuck! Johnny reacted fast. He caught the ash shovel and tried to put them out. They jumped away, running around, ducking. They seemed scared. Johnny hit one of them. It disappeared like the flame of a blown out candle. The other dived back into the fireplace.

Phew! Said Johnny. That was close. He looked at the blaze. The little fire men were standing in the chimney talking eagerly to the burning log. There are more of them now.The wood chunks were burning harder. The flames rose. Johnny backed away a bit, his face was getting too hot. One of the creatures took a step towards him. Screams.

Little fire-creatures came running out of the chimney. They ran up the walls, the curtains.  Johnny turned towards the door. A face covered it. Dark and evil. Laughing. Around him danced hundreds of small creatures. They were singing now. He could hear their words, chanting, messing.

The king of flames has come to be, the God of flames has come.

His big, his hot, and there’s no escape. His big, his hot, and there’s no escape.

The God of flames has come.

Soon Johnny’s screams are louder. When the fire truck arrives the house is already burning to the ground.

https://theurbanspaceman.net/2017/04/04/firewall-flash-fiction/

http://www.santharia.com/alchemy/fire.htm

Like a Drop in the Sea

Beyond Faith and Reason

This is one of my own favorite stories here on Fictionspawn Monsters. It’s about quantum mechanics, metaphysics and death. Reblogged today not to be forgotten, hope you enjoy it.

Fictionspawn Monsters

beyond-faith-and-reason

Roger came into the laboratory. He had had quite a hard time getting out of bed today, they had been working long days for weeks.

He was quantum physicist. He studied the smallest parts of the universe. Particles. Quarks and all that stuff. Complicated shit. He had been interested in physics all his life and quantum mechanics intrigued him like nothing else.

Sometimes his scientific knowledge fell into conflict with his religious views. He then went to church. Meditated. Prayed. And he got back on the right track again. One day, he said to himself. One day the pieces will fit.

He was working in one of the biggest laboratories in Science Are Us Corporation. He was in charge of a smaller section, and his crew, three of the finest scientists in the world, were doing their jobs perfectly. They were secretly working on a project on the possibility of…

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No One Laughs at the Duckbill

No One Laughs at the Duckbill.jpg

Duckbill was a platypus. Everyone laughed at him. Always. Every day. Beaver made fun of his beak. The ducks giggled at his strange tail. He didn’t fit in at all.

The snakes didn’t laugh, though. The snakes looked at him, and they knew. This guy had potential.

One day he was out in the pond, and the other animals were running around doing their stuff. Beaver stopped by.

Hey, beakboy! He shouted, arrogant as always. How do you cut trees with that neb? He laughed. The crocodile and the koala laughed as well. Beaver kept chopping down the eucalyptus standing by the riverside.

Duckbill swam away from them with tears in his eyes. The platypusducks were swimming around.

Quack! Said one of them.

Quack quack quack! Said the other. Then they all laughed.

Duckbill went home, sad and lonely. He didn’t know what to do. He was the laughing stock of the pond.

Tomorrow he had to go out there again, and they all would tease him again. He hated going to work. He hated the ducks, and he hated Beaver. He hated himself. At least they hadn’t seen the little spur he had in his foot. Then they would bully him even more. Disgusting little needle. He didn’t even know what it was for.

A snake came by.

Ssssshhhssss…. It said. Why are you sssssssoooo sssssad?

Everyone laughs at me, he answered. Always. I suck.

Everyone laughed at me oncccce asssss well… Said the snake.

Why did they stop? Asked Duckbill.

You got it in you… I can ssssssee it…. I can tasssste it in the air…

She disappeared into the grass. Duckbill had no idea what she had been talking about. He had it in him? He shrugged it off and went to sleep.

The next day he went back to the little lake. The ducks came by. Beaver. The crocodile and the koala. They all came at once, they all came to pick on him.

Beakboy!

Quack Quack!

Duckbill was crying now. It just made them laugh even harder. They were roaring, rolling around, slapping their hands in the ground. Duckbill couldn’t handle any more.

Enough! He turned to swim away. By accident his hind paddle foot slapped Beaver in the face.

The little spur went in through Beaver’s skin. Some kind of liquid came out of it. Poured into his blood. Duckbill was scared. Now they’ll beat me as well!

Beaver fell into the water. He shook for a while. Then the shaking stopped.

Beaver was floating face down in the lake. The ducks paddled hastily away from the scene, exchanging confused quacks.

The snake was floating around in the lake. I told you, platypussss…. She said. I told you you had it in you.

So this, dear reader, is the story of why no one laughs at the duckbill any more, and why there are no beavers in Australia.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Platypus

https://janhawkinsau.wordpress.com/2016/11/03/where-the-platypus-swim/

Death to the Metal Monster

 

Defeat

Defeat

Sir Morgary lifts his sword. He’s won the battle, there’s no doubt about that. Sir Gregory is on the ground, defeated. But it’s not over.

Sir Gregory turns slowly. Morgary sees his eye. A look of defeat. Of hate. Once this man had been his friend. Together they had won battles, they had slaughtered and raped, drunk on victory. That is a long time ago.

He lets the heavy broadsword fall. Cuts his neck in one strike. Gregory’s head falls to the ground.

It’s still staring at him.

The rest of Sir Gregory stays on one knee.

Strange. Sir Morgary wipes the blood off his blade. He turns around and walks toward his horse. He was bringing news to his king. Now they aren’t all bad.

The saddle is a bit loose. He tightens it. He hears a sound behind him. A sound of chain mall moving. Metal scraping on metal.

There. The body has fallen. He turns around to have a last look at his kill before he leaves.

Sir Gregory is standing. His head still lies on the ground, still staring at Morgary. Morgary lifts his sword in disbelief. The lack of logic scares him. He knows how to handle fear. He attacks. Pierces his sword into the headless warrior’s chest. Through the metal. Straight into his heart.

His sword’s stuck. The decapitated body stands. The head on the ground starts laughing. First a giggle. Then stronger. It laughs like a madman as it’s body lifts his sword.

The sword goes down over Morgary’s right shoulder. It comes out under his left arm. A clean cut. He falls to the ground in two pieces.

Gregory picks up his head. He walks over to his dead opponent’s horse. Holds his head up, looking to the east. He jumps up on the animal and rides towards town. Vengeance will be his.

https://esoterx.com/2016/11/13/the-headless-hitchhiker-of-st-leonards-forest/

http://www.musikitty.com/headless_horseman.html

The Strange Nest

A Cure For Loneliness

Another great story by Orchid’s Lantern.

Orchid's Lantern

img_0471

A gust of wind slaps my freshly shaved head as a metal door swings back to release me. Suddenly the world feels aggressive and alien. The lights are too bright yet the shade is too dark, the air is too harsh. It’s only because the wound is so fresh, I remind myself. I will adjust, I know.

A fool on the hill is muttering something about quantum theory only existing since we admitted to killing our own god. “You are living on waves of decay!” He rants, furious that no one is listening to him.

It has been years since these streets were packed full of commuters and consumers. A pang of nostalgia hits me whenever I think of the days when human contact was a near constant occurrence; such a juxtaposition to the desolate state of modernity.

With my fingertips I feel the row of stitches that…

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Do You Want to Know the Future?

Do You Want to Know the Future?.jpg

Today was Saturday, so he had all the day to do whatever he wanted. A fair was in town, so he stopped by it. He went alone. His friends were rather boring and only wanted to stay home and play video games.

He’s walking around, looking. People throwing stuff at tin cans to win stuffed animals. Music from loudspeakers, music from carousels, all mixed in a symphony of noise. Children everywhere, parents trying to keep track of them. Colours. Lights.

An old gypsy-woman comes walking up to him.

Do you want to know the future? Her eyes are glaring. He doesn’t want to know the future, and he definitely does not believe she could tell him. Here! A gift! He doesn’t want the gift, either. Usually they want something in return in his experience. He backs away. She grabs his hand and puts something in it. Be careful!

She disappears into the crowd.

He stood there, looking for her. She was gone. In his hand he held a crystal ball. Round and beautiful, the size of a big marble. It had small facets, plain surfaces, all the same size and form. Inside he could see something move, like if it had life. He peered closer.

He sees himself. He’s running down a slope. He has the same clothes he’s wearing right now. He falls, stays on the ground holding his hands on his leg. It seems to be broken.

This was either some kind of joke, or he just saw the future. He didn’t want that future, but the crystal ball was awesome.

He left the carnival. It had been fun for a while, but now he was tired. He wanted to go home. He wanted to get back to where he was living.

He started walking down the slope towards town, when he realized it was the slope from the vision. The slope he’d seen himself run down, where he’d fall and break his leg.

Haha! I’ve outsmarted you this time, future! He takes another way, crossing the big national road. He’s halfway across when he hears a loud low-frequence motor humming accompanied with a deep beeping sound. He turns. He sees a trailer coming at him at high speed. It’s the last thing he ever sees.

The crystal ball flew out of his hand and landed unharmed in the grass on the other side.

https://10000hoursleft.wordpress.com/2015/05/22/timeline/

https://mindfump.com/2017/03/15/62-oops-turned-into-nostradamus-2/

The End of Days

Dystopia Pt 3/3

Dystopia Pt3

First part. Second part.

The park was as beautiful as always. Kids playing, adults chatting. Life had become so easy. Tanya was sitting on the bench watching actors doing a play. Real art, art created for the art itself, not to survive, not to make money. Her teddy was lying on the bench beside her. She was laughing, applauding.

….

Malak got up between the assembly lines. Gunshots. He ran, stepping on toys and things going down the line. Drones were coming after him. At the end of the line there was an opening. He could see the dark sky. He ran towards the edge.

In a distance he could see the cotton fields. Where there once had been people living, cultivating food for their families, now there was cotton as far as the eye could see. Enormous machines were harvesting. Any living creature entering would be killed.

Far underneath he saw robots working. Transport vehicles going out through the highly guarded gate. The fall was too high. He turned, wanting to run back, but the drones were coming. A machine gun pointed right at him.

He fell over the edge.

….

I forgot my teddy bear!

We can’t go back now, there’s no time. Grandma’s waiting.

But I really liked him…

Don’t worry, sweetheart. We can always buy you a new one.

…..

Mika’s mother was standing by her kitchen. Tears were running down her cheeks. If the poor child wasn’t back by now, he probably wouldn’t be. How could she send a child on such a dangerous mission? Regrets. Shame. She heard the hatch open.

Malak. He had fallen in the transport vehicle, the toys had reduced his fall. The drones had not been able to detect him underneath them. He had scratches and wounds all over, and his clothes were even worse than when he left, but he was whole and alive.

He had a metal lever in one hand, the broken piece to the electricity generator. In the other he held a teddy bear.

A brown one with a red band around it’s neck.

http://www.globalissues.org/issue/235/consumption-and-consumerism

https://www.becomingminimalist.com/escaping-excessive-consumerism/

http://verdant.net/society.htm

Dystopia Pt 2/3

Dystopia Pt2.jpg

First part of the story can be found here.

Malak went over the field. It was dark, but the dry sand did not give much shelter. He got closer. There was a hole in the fence. He went through it.

A killer robot came by. In a distance he could see the flying ones. He was more scared of the walker, even though the flying ones were usually more dangerous. They moved almost like humans.

He got closer to the big factory building. He moved close to the ground so the robots would not see him. Some had lights in front, they were the easy ones to avoid. Others could see in the dark. He got in where the cotton entered the building. He jumped onto the assembly line and let himself be pulled in.

….

All the presents was lying in a big pile in her room. She had so many things she didn’t even have room for them any more. That’s the way life should be, as far as she knew.

Today she was going to the park with her mum and dad. They did that a lot. People mostly did what they wanted, no one hardly worked any more. There was no need.

She brought her little teddy, her new favourite toy.

….

Knives cutting the cotton. They were getting closer. Fast. He crawled the opposite way on the band, but not fast enough. A gap on one side, passing by, just for a moment. He jumped in.

He came out under the lines. There were robots everywhere. Some seemed harmless, working, moving things. Others he knew from before. He moved under the lines until he found the machine Mika’s mother had told him about.

He started screwing off the screws. Removed a plate on the side. There it was, the piece she had shown him. He got it out. The machines stopped.

Alarm. He hurried towards the hole he’d come in from. A robot blocking his way. Two drones were moving in under the assembly lines.

To be concluded tomorrow.

https://www.theguardian.com/sustainable-business/2016/feb/24/automation-end-work-obsessed-society-dystopia-jobs

https://youmethepostapocalypse.wordpress.com/2017/05/18/earth-2100/

Dystopia Pt 1/3

Dystopia pt.1

Today was Tanya’s birthday. The last of the many gifts was a teddy bear. A brown one, with a red band around it’s neck.

It’s the best present of them all! She said, giving both her parents a big hug.

….

It’s a rat! Said Mika exited. Go ‘round, get it!

Malak jumped over the barrel and stuck his pointed stick down behind it. Got it! Proud he held the rat in the air. It was still shaking.

Malak and Mika hadn’t seen the world before the automation. Before the great war. They said people worked in the factories and on the fields back then. People were needed. Now things was changed.

They said there were other lands far away, on the other side of huge walls and on the other side of the sea. Lands where they used the things made in the factories, ate the food grown in the fields. Here there was nothing. The fields were closed in by electric fences. The factories guarded by robots and drones. The owners no longer needed even to step on their soil. Everything was done by machines.

They heard a sound. A metallic sound nearby.

Shhhh! Said Malak. Get down. They lay on the ground. A robot was passing by. It walked on two legs, had guns for arms. Grenade launchers. A killing machine, hunting humans. Malak had seen them before, many times. He would never forget the day they eradicated his family.

Humans in the third world were considered pests. They were in the way of production.

The robot passed them. They were safe for now, relatively speaking.

They got back home. They opened the little hatch to get into the underground tunnels they lived in. Sewers, they were once called. Now they were homes. Mika’s mother was waiting.

Look, we caught a rat!

Thank God, she said. One rat weren’t much food, but at least it was a big one. She started the electric oven. Lights went out.

Not again… She said, and got a torch. She went through a door and down a hallway. She came back with a dark look on her face.

A piece of the generator is broken. Your father got into the factory and stole it, but it was a lot less guarded back then. Now it’s even more difficult than when he… She stopped. Mika concentrated of keeping back his tears.

I’ll go, said Malak.

You..? You can’t, it’s too dangerous. You’re just a child.

You’re so nice to me. I want to help. And I know how to get into the factory.

Mika’s mother said nothing, just looked at the little boy who had arrived so suddenly. He had survived against all odds.

Besides, I’m not as clumsy as you grown ups! He laughed. She didn’t, but it was settled. Malak would go into the factory. Without electricity they would be doomed.

….

Goodnight little princess. I hope your new teddy bear gives you sweet dreams.

He will for sure! I love him. He’s the best present ever.

 

To be continued tomorrow.

https://www.neondystopia.com/cyberpunk-politics-philosophy/automation-and-the-prospects-of-anti-tech-politics/

https://utopiaordystopia.com/tag/automation-and-trump-voters/

The End of Days