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Crime & Punishment

 
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Log Entries: I See the Humanity
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Lady Spank
Get Out Nasty Face
#1 - 2012-01-05 21:08:44 UTC
WebLog Entry, May 20, 2007, GMT-6:00

I was born in a cafe, at ground zero.
I lived the average life of an anyone in a sleepy part of our time-space continuum.
Being average, and sleepy, I often slumbered, and drifted...

I drifted...
drifted past the town library, past the Galesburg Post, out of McHenry County and into what is left of the wilderness. I settled upon an old indian trail... and there, I conversed with ghosts of the Illinewek...

They greeted me with slender, sinuous arms. They told me they had been into town. They told me that they wanted firewater and Netflix.
I protested. "What? No! You must remain the pastoral ideal of my mind!
Now get thee back to the lands of your ancestors, and hunt and gather!"
They grumbled...

I clung to my notion of a better place,
pastoral, where survival was not a brutal, heartless endeavor;
even if the better place is but a romantic contradictory escape from the drudgery of my banal existence...

They disappointedly turn, then pause, “Come, we show you the GREAT PATH...”

then I awoke...
I awoke with mammoth blood, splattered down the front of my torn shirt,
my face painted like a terrifying, multi-fruited demon from hell...

“Dreams”, I said...


Netlog Entry, December 12, 2083, GMT-3:00

been traveling...
traveling...
had to journey, had to see beyond my small horizon...
I've uprooted all my social trees,
I no longer have solid social ground to stand on,
I swim...
swim in the rolling human sea of life-
when I figure it all out, I will write THE BOOK...
maybe sell the movie rights,
be interviewed on Oprah, Fresh Air,
wave 'goodbye' to all with a smile
and drift away as legend...

Until then, it is this foul underwear, these crusty socks,
a bag of trail mix and a warm tangelo
for the next several hundred dusty miles;
mile after mile of sensory input, to the point of overload...





Server1758log Entry 123496, June 14, Year 2087, GMT+2:00

no idea...
no idea where I am...
not even which land mass I am on.
I really shouldn’t even be alive,
but for the blessings of modern science...

There could have been more research put into improving the physical appearance at this age-
a new dimension is given to the terms 'gruesome' and 'hideous',
but there are moments...
moments that I still manage to somehow get the look from the girls...
ah, the ego never dies until the last spark of life is extinguished...





Datalog Uplink Entry 708854964, May 3, 2091, GMT-Unknown

halted...
today I've halted in a clearing in a dense forest-
I see a bed made by the night's deer...
this will be my final resting place.
Let me clear the droppings first...

I hear...
I hear whispers of distant tribal tongues
under sly footsteps of moccasin'ed feet;
I lay at the base of the mothering tree
and, settling into the dry leaves; I sigh a final farewell,
and close my weary star-filled eyes...





MindChiplog Entry, August 17, 2091, GMT-Still Unknown

Awoke...
awoke again... to bright rows of hissing chromed columns
of burning, blinding, buzzing industrial-grade light racks
meant to illuminate and irradiate every microorganism in the operating room...

I feel clamps...
I am bound to a metal slab of a table,
fed by a regulated airstream...
nourished by... wires, wires everywhere,
neatly routed in their haphazard, tangled, purposful way, concourses of theory, idea, and data, all leading to...
me.

I am...
I 'am' again.
I test it:
..."I"...



In a desperate ego-filled instinctive reaction I scan for a reflective surface...
I find only one, a curved and distorted reflection
in the rounded canopy of the aspirating surgical robotoid...

I gain enough visual information to deduce what has happened... it is marvelous, and terrible...





MicroThoughtLog Entry 234985734-, Sunspot Cycle 12.462, Earthdate 2359, GMT-8:00

I realize...
realize today that I have not had a thought in three months.
I perform my routine but essential job without having to think-
I am, for the time being, a mechanized fourteen-wheeled garbage collection unit,
with jumpjet capabilities.
I believe my mind is in the dashboard somewhere...

I would not call it life; maybe existence, maybe contentment, perhaps even peace, I can't really tell-
for I have no feelings on the matter...

Stagnant...
It is a stagnant period in this civilized world- not much progress being made,
there is even regression in each subsequent generation of its inhabitants,
and wisdom is more and more spoken of as 'ancient'-
something from a past epoch... today's world filled with tiny, garbage-generating pursuits...

It is a sleepy planetary settlement without major incident, which opens up
the minor incidents to irritate one, of course.
Always those who will test their species, to challenge further progress, perhaps for a good cosmic reason, I don't know.

My challenge happens to be these sewer-rat children who toss rotten migamatoes at me-
out of jealousy, no doubt, perhaps mixed with fear and insecurity.
Maybe they are just plain bad kids...

At any rate I surmise that they are filled with the false and fanciful tales
that parents tell their children about mechanized Post-Ops, like me...

My work slows...
slows when I imagine humorous ways to get even with the little demons,
humorous, what with my being a garbage collection unit...
such thoughts are brought on by... what is this, could it be, feelings?

Hallucinations...
Like hallucinations, such faint and spurious unforseen moments arise-
spurious... humor... creativity...
They pass. The garbage before me is endless.
Perhaps if I work faster, I'll have time to ponder it deep into the night...

(ಠ_ృ) ~ It Takes a Million Years to Become Diamonds So Lets Just Burn Like Coal Until the Sky's Black ~ (ಠ_ృ)
Lady Spank
Get Out Nasty Face
#2 - 2012-01-05 21:08:53 UTC
FlashImplant27MemLog Entry 45908375, Cosmic Storm 34.3145, Newton Date 24896, GMT-6A+2 Parsecs

Have been away...
away from my planet, Earth, for eons, it seems.
I, in my new generation titanium body, am flawless- and quite handsome.
If I could only employ it to attract a mate...
A mate!
I confess I have had that strange, irrelevant, primal urge for some time now,
as if that aching, beating, irrational organ has reseeded itself within my bosom...
The heart! That cursed thing! An endless fount of confusion, longing, sorrow, pain, and yet love, if I remember it correctly... maybe a few rewirings in the morning will help...





Civlog Entry ;234TG059;, 6.4586 Degrees of Galactic Rotation 16, Galileo Date 1,354,997, Galactic Time Zone 12

Little ones...
the little ones are coming along fine now,
all twenty four of them.
Wife is beautiful. Wonderful. I love her.

Life is fulfilled. Peace and contentment are at long last mine.



Little ones... I am not completely sure of how they came into being...
I remember being transported to a post-op redistribution center, to be refitted for a new assignment, diversity of experience found to be advantageous after the post-op wars. It was a small, tight cargo bay, in a thick-hulled freighter of the x-zerallian class from a small Magellanic cloud outpost. During the long, uneventful flight I began to drift...

I could have sworn it was a dream-
the Illinewek princess, beckoning... dressed in a subdued wedding-nights alloy of the most alluringly shifting tints; the steady drone of whisperings about the secrets of a tribal moon... stars swirling overhead, carried by the bare-chested cries of young warriors... a lone wolf howling on a distant jut of rock above the pine stand... I was lightyears away from my functional lifelessness, locked in a strange rhythm, rekindling in a galaxy such a wonder that had long ago been lost to my kind...




Host11alog Entry //**^^^*~``~//, 4.5296 of Encounter with Dimensional Rift 5, Hubble Date 1,264,567,859 of Galactic Cluster Time Depression Alpha

had a disturbing dream...
distrubing dream... I was back,
back in time, a frail human again- it was cold and dark, I was bitter, and
existing in that miniscule time flicker nearly a billion years ago...

I remember...
I was lost...
lost... in an existence of limited sight, inadequate senses, a realm of experiences that remain inscrutable to this day...
I remember... tortuously clawing for every tiny, life-giving photon of new information,
stumbling at every turn of a seeming pointless life, stumbling into the unknown,
not knowing up from down, forward from backwards, time from space...
wanting, devouring, feeling, needing...

then flung from stark nakedness into the limelight of a celestial opera- the libretto lifted from savagery, the symphony, hunger and thirst; the final act, love, sorrow;

I am costumee in the sweet, yet sour taste of victory. Then I die...


Memories...
too many memories, I push them away.
I'm stuffed with them... I'll explode with them...

yet they are there, in the cold...
in the warmth...
the days...
nights...

lingering with bitterness... the joys...
the pleasures... the pain...
suffering and yet not suffering...


I file them away
between the microfiber layers of my exoskeleton, blistered away one layer after another
in the harsh radiation of the binary suns
until my core is washed clean by the deadly neutrino shower...

Then a sudden insight-

I should have known; I had seen it in others, like myself,
they would fall idle, still, mysteriously, if only for a moment,
frozen in motion...
as if caught in a program loop
and needing a refresh command to resume their normal operating mode;

I'd always assumed that they were simply suffering from the cheap,
temperature-sensitive nanochip technology flooding the market
from the up and coming economies of this sector of the newly-freed galactic arm,
such logic circuits would overheat in the solar bursts and cloud their owner's decisions...

No.
Now I see what it is, they are like I. It is the source of our last vestiges of joy and sorrow-
It is the humanity;

the humanity has never left us.

(ಠ_ృ) ~ It Takes a Million Years to Become Diamonds So Lets Just Burn Like Coal Until the Sky's Black ~ (ಠ_ృ)
Zedrik Cayne
Standards and Practices
#3 - 2012-01-05 21:25:35 UTC
You been off the net over the holidays and have an over-abundance of shiptoasting you need to get off your tongue Spank?

I honestly feel like I just read fifty shades of dumb. --CCP Falcon
Lady Spank
Get Out Nasty Face
#4 - 2012-01-05 21:33:24 UTC
Thanks for reading Zedrik Cayne! All feedback is welcomed.

P.S. I was talking to Socratic last night and he gave me a donation of twenty million ISK.

(ಠ_ృ) ~ It Takes a Million Years to Become Diamonds So Lets Just Burn Like Coal Until the Sky's Black ~ (ಠ_ృ)
Feligast
Brutor Tribe
Minmatar Republic
#5 - 2012-01-05 21:41:49 UTC
Could you just bold the funny parts?
Lady Spank
Get Out Nasty Face
#6 - 2012-01-05 22:22:46 UTC
Feligast wrote:
Could you just bold the funny parts?

I already did.

(ಠ_ృ) ~ It Takes a Million Years to Become Diamonds So Lets Just Burn Like Coal Until the Sky's Black ~ (ಠ_ృ)
Cannibal Kane
Viziam
Amarr Empire
#7 - 2012-01-06 11:10:37 UTC
For some reason I used Captain Kirks voice while reading that.

"Kane is the End Boss of Highsec." -Psychotic Monk