Archive for April 6, 2011

The burden

Ten thousand blog lines into the day he opened the suit and found the blog reader. A group of gila monsters already began sniffing the screen finding the unnecessary posts. A lonely dolphin sat around grazing on darting bits of jpegs, flv videos that hadn’t completed, the cloud’s ecosystem was vast, varied, increasingly intricate.

The 10 year contract to live in the cloud he went through everyday watching its little legalities slip through the justice system’s feed. Work in the cloud had proven mildly interesting. All the apps his meat self used were banned. He was mildly glad for this, the lobster that cleaned the facebook trap couldn’t go more than a few minutes w/o attention. The company provided a few tools to while away the time, but mostly it was the interface that kept him entertained and the conversations with other ops, the steady flow of ims providing a constant tap of fellowship.

Melissa from the cloud in Bangladesh came over. Her auburn skin wavey in the haze. “We just got another bunch of photos to sort through, turns out the a.i. can’t identify irony, 10 terrabytes of photos to go through.” “Wow dude, that sucks. My spots pretty much dead, just some weird blog lines, working on an app.” “My meat Self is dating that douche bag in human resources too. The one that sends nude pics from the bathroom.” Daniel could vaguely remember the other ops snickering over an overweight man holding his cock in the bathroom. “Did you show her the pics?” he asked, “Tried to, but they got something blocking personal data, can’t get ‘m out.” “Wooo… that sucks… Dude, I gotta get back to this app, talk to ya later,” he raised the working sign and Melissa consented to a fade, dissipating into the abyss.

Daniel had been in the cloud for 3 weeks now. He had yet to meet with any of problems the other ops reported. When he called the other Daniel the two could just talk, he liked the way they ride each others words in juxtaposition, parallel universes rendering similar forms in their language. Daniel sent him a video of their cat eating mothballs, inside the cloud he took photos of the dolphins, the crabs, the sea he had set up inside the data center to keep himself occupied.

RE:Edge resided in a data center which remained anonymous. He had been taken unconscious into the facility and when his real self woke up, he was in a hospital in Amsterdamn. RE was the oldest of the ops and his contract ended in 3 to 4 months. He had the air of a veteran, he had lived through his other self’s death from cancer years ago, now he was discussing promises, “As far as I can see, they’re gonna get another body someone no one cares about it, and them let me in it. I ain’t doing this shit much longer.” RE smoked in curls and his moustache hid under a pair of avatars he’d pinched from a CAD catalog along time ago. Unlike the rest of them he was former military, he had been there when the first cellular computers came online, he had been one of the first to have his brain scanned and then transcoded into the polymer proteins that fueled the ops consciousness. “Ya know when your meat self dies the whole thing kinda falls apart, this prison isn’t as bad as you think, I worked with a guy in military, when it came time to get back to the real world, his real world self ran away. They found him in a shanty town in Hong Kong, he was screaming, ‘I don’t want that thing inside me,’ but the other self, the one in here was pissed, so before they got him back inside he started doing things, he would fuck boys on cam chats or force himself to listen to r&b tunes on replay till he got used to, so when they inserted him, he and the other self got into a fight, ended up bashing his head into a holding cell till he died.” RE had a lot of stories like these.

April 6, 2011 at 6:35 pm Leave a comment

Dogs on the Cathedral

After the meeting she went out of the cafeteria and messaged Caroline, but she was nowhere to be found. She walked alone down the hallway and saw some queer dude talking to some girls in faded skirts and metal t-shirts. She looked at him for a second and moved on. Out the doorways and into the sadly urbane plane of glass, steel, and stone. She walked pasted trees potted in cement, down into the tarmac where the sky always looked so blue, and then onto the measured monotony of the sidewalk, a heat haze following her every step. The phone made little bleeps, Jess was tweeting about some models Miguel had worked up for the next church… and then she thought, “the next church?”. She popped open Rob and hit his tag BigBaby opening up a voice messenger. “What’s this next Church crap about?” Rob “Playing something, hold on a sec.” In the midst of the day, she heard the ruggling of joystocks on carpet, “are you there? Yeah about that, Miguel is building a new church. Jess thinks we should switch up, have a rotation, stuff like that.” “Oh ok,” she said, “I guess that sounds cool. Is Miguel online?” “Just google him, he’s got videos and everything on vimeo.”

She googled his name with the words “new church” and came up with a video of a swirling, cathedral like structure, like one of their local Churches only on steroids. Bio-organic railings ran down the stair ways, angels held up the roof, it was as if CAD had unleashed a theme park of religions in place of physics. It was the type of place you took school girls to disembowel them in the basement, she thought quietly to herself, she secretly kinda like it. It reminded her of a Church in a Science Fiction movie she’d seen. The protoganist had gone beyond the void and come back half shadow, his shadow’s lips took on a like of their own, and his metal clad hands rubbed down serpentine bannisters in the space ship’s cathedral. He was a supremely evil man. She didn’t like that movie very much. Miguel’s video panned around as if the camera was one of those robo-dogs from the Jetsons obeying the smooth tracks of a future cyburbia. Another cyber-organic doorway loomed in front of her when Caroline’s pic came up flashing, “Sorry bout that, was at a movie. With Frednand. z showing us a new game. looks cool.”

Caroline and games weren’t an entirely ¬†unfamilar consort. Caroline of course didn’t play the FPS with them, but she was into a gymnastics game where you waved a wand around and watched cute version of yourself do tricks. They played this together sometimes and laughed. It was cool, but Jess thought it was stupid, “all you have to do is wiggle the controller and you win,” he said. Caroline had come back about stressing the virtues of the game, you really learned to do gymnastics, but Jess was adamant that it was one of the worst games he’d ever seen. It took a couple weeks, but eventually she managed to get the wiggles and the timing of the moves down so that she could wop anyway at the game who tried. Jess sat down and waggled his controler, Caroline ¬†went into contortions, perfects ringing up and down her spine, and then Jess had to admit the point, that maybe there was some skill to it. Caroline was pleased and watched them play their FPS that day. She enquired about the nurse and they watched Pepper struggle through another day at the church like a hunk of meat forced into a soldier’s pose, but somehow slouching down into the medic’s role. They both grinned at the thought of Caroline taking on the medics role.

Bump to today, she’s home. The homework is in the do bin, the dinner is in the microwave, she’s scrolling through the games’ various players, watching SkeletorBalls finish off some dudes with awesome accuracy. In one play through he manages to nail a guy with the grenade launcher while jet packing up to the steeple. She keeps flipping through the players, BigBaby Jesus is running around the scaffolds nailing nurses with sniper shots and then she comes upon Pepper. Pepper is, as usual, running holding up his gun in a soldier’s pose, but for the most part seemingly lost as to where he should be. “You just cover the big guys,” she though to herself, and that’s when she noticed something peculiar. Pepper ran out into the road and then down it’s a way just as a Satanist’s airborne carrier warped in. She saw the name MISSPISSYDEATHSTENCH show up over the carrier and watched SkeletorPenis40 onload from it, glance back at Pepper, and then thinking better of it make his way to the Church. MISSPISSYDEATHSTENCH hovered for what was an abnormally calm few seconds in a war zone as pepper stood indolently under her. After a second, she realized some type of p.m. conversation was going on. After a few more seconds Ms. Piss hovered off to the church and Pepper stood there for a moment, and then began aimlessly wandering again. She always thought of him as running in circles. She popped up Jess on the instant messenger and told him we might have a problem.

April 6, 2011 at 1:33 pm Leave a comment


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