Category: Society

Aww, look! They think they’re people!

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Status Quo Technology

One World Trade Secretly a Space Ship

INTERNET—Sources say One World Trade is in fact a secret space ark built to shelter the super-rich through the oncoming mega-geodegradation from climate change and crust resettlement.

Rocketry expert Dr. Angstrom H. Troubador told reporters:

“This planet is fucked. Nothing we can do but quietly pack things up for orbit and send our boys off to as many suicidal wars as we can possibly afford. One World Trade might be ten thousand years in orbit, but it’s designed for that. Not everyone on the surface will die, and it will take hundreds of years for things to really get bad, but you can expect a thousand times more volcanic eruptions and earthquakes due to fracking, drilling, and mining, as well as totally destabilized climates on the local level, not just small global shifts up or down in temperature. Your temperate hometown may turn into a glacial valley, a tropical rainforest, or maybe even a desert overnight. And then change back again, in a week. The elites know there’s more happening than a slow, gentle change, and they’ve got the ultimate trump card. Tickets on One World Trade start at a billion dollars a piece.”

As citizens finally accept that Al-Qaeda and ISIS are puppets created by the US government to facilitate the secret spaceship building plan, perhaps a revolution will take to the streets and force the elites out of power.

One World Trade is the world’s biggest rocket and space station.

It may be too late though, as folks in Ferguson saw that even small local police forces have already heavily militarized themselves, and Fema is waiting to put on the mass funeral. At this point, one push of a button and the global elites can never be overthrown again. Even if we did overtake the militarized police with our strong support of the second amendment, they’d just launch themselves right off into space.

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Categories
Entertainment Society Technology

Amanda Bynes: A Transhuman Experiment Gone Awry

Did Amanda Bynes’ parents have the means motives and opportunity to plant a chip in her head, effectively making her a Transhuman?

INTERNET—Amanda Bynes’ latest tweets strongly suggests she must be among the first generation of cybernetic transhumans, or may even be the very first ever, if it is indeed true, as she claims, that a chip was surgically installed into her body. Human-brain interfaces, also known as HBIs, are a wide range of technologies which, since the early 80’s, have allowed people to interact with a computer on a neurological level. That is, HBIs allow anyone to use a computer without the mechanical click of a mouse or a keyboard.

Amanda Bynes’ father worked on a team that developed a version of HBI technology that wired computers directly into the brains of mice while her mother went to work as an assistant to a plastic surgeon specializing in breast implants. Some experts speculate that given the most cutting-edge technology available in the 80’s, the “brain chip” would be too large for a human skull and must have been installed elsewhere, most likely in the thigh or breast.

As always happens with new technologies, something has gone awry with Amanda Bynes’ implant. On Twitter, she teases her father and mother, alleging incest as a symbol for the monstrous overwhelming love that caused them to make her inhuman. No sane person would give her empathy for the true story, that she is a cybernetic transhuman, so she must remake her story out of another more believable cloth. As she admitted that the incest story was counterfeit, she announced her true belief that her father had both designed and installed the chip that modulated her brain.

Many have imagined that the extremely wealthy would sire the first generation of transhumans, but it seems some lucky portion of power fell into the hands of the new technology’s most adept practitioners. By amplifying the circuits in Amanda Byne’s brain that produce charisma, Bynes was made  into Nickelodeon’s biggest child star — ever. Science and the love of her parents was seemingly able to enhance her brain, giving her unnatural talents. Experts believe that chips from the 80’s would have, after several years, malfunctioned because of body heat. Some point to a rapid breast-size change or sudden hair loss and check videos and images of Bynes for signs of surgeries, but it is not clear whether she has had any subsequent surgeries to either repair or enhance her malfunctioning charisma unit. “Her incredible comeback,” said HBI researcher Dr. Troubador, “Seems to me to be the height of her charisma, a birth of a totally new species!”

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Categories
Society

A Titan of a Job

Midnight: total darkness takes over the desert. Call comes through. It’s Ron, sez I’m due down at the docks in two hours for a crate job. Well, well, well, looks like my Saturday night just got a little more lucrative, doesn’t it?

But a sudden smell came over me. Perhaps a phantom, but it sniffed real. I inhaled, deeply. It reminded me not unlike the aroma of my youth, just a kid coming up in Blaine County: the sweet smell of a soiled lawn on a farm after its barn has just been set ablaze.

I looked down IRL. I had shat myself somewhere along my six-hour gaming session.

I changed my pants. I missed the crate job. Fuck my life, I texted a friend in a nearby lobby.

Seen a little white dot up at the gas station near Trevor’s. Figured I’d pop in, see what was happening.

I pulled into the gas station. He was leaning against the wall, Pisswasser in one hand, pack of Redwoods in the other. But he was dressed smartly: blue suit shirt, tucked in; black suit pants; black shoes; intelligent glasses. This motherfucker didn’t shop at Suburban. No, he looked right off the rack at Ponsonby’s.

Got another beer, brother? I said.

Sure, he said.

Silence. Until finally, he asked for my name. I told him. I asked him for his. He told me:

OG_Whistleblower_ES.

I didn’t think much of it. I’ve gamed with gents claiming to be Australian media magnates, god’s, hell I even raced an Arabian fellow through the Vespucci Canals that said he was the courier to UBL.

He asked if I wanted to do a job. Shit, had missed the crate drop, hadn’t I? Money wasn’t exactly long, you see. Had just purchased a place up in the Rockford Hills for a pretty penny.

Fuck it, what you got? I sez.

Believe me when I say: motherfucker had a real Titan of a Job lined up.

He hosted. I waited. But he invited no others. Guess you could say he trusted me like I was GG. While the mission loaded he began prying, asking about things that were none of his business. He sez, who knows, may be in the public interest? This was my god damn personal information. Told him I didn’t like his leadings. He said, it’s okay, your dox are safe with me.

Job loaded. I peered off into the distance towards the road. Fucker was riding a neon Dinka Blista Compact, crew logo on the hood: an X over an hourglass, a globe leaking onto another.

Jesus Christ, let me get my mechanic on the line, I said.

Before I could click call he was honking his horn like a god damn fed. Hop in, he sez.

You wouldn’t believe how he drove. Stopped at every light. Used his fucking turn signal. Let little old lady’s pop in front of him from freeway ramps. In short, shithead followed every road rule and regulation.

We ended up stealing the Titan, no thanks to him. Said he wanted to do it clean, no murder, no collateral damage. I told him to go fuck himself, and murked every last motherfucker in that hanger, while he stayed back, vetting every enemy.

During the flight to Sandy Shores he regaled me with what I initially thought were fabricated tales of Hong Kong hotel room service, brutal Soviet-style architecture, some chick in Hawaii he was hung up on, another British bird he said was stitching him up. At one point asshole even burst out in some Slavic shit to someone: Da Misha! Da! DAAA!!!

It wasn’t until after the mission, when he dropped me off at my place, leaving at a slow, drip-drop pace, saying only in his wake, Courage is contagious, that I realized I had just spent the night in the careful arms of an American hero, traitor, father, daughter, etc.: Edward Joseph Snowden.

I know that God blesses America; I seen it in the wake of 9/11. But that night I saw a man sacrifice everything—everything­— for the sake of this great nation. A Titan of a Whistleblower. God bless us all. And thank you, Eddie, for everything.