- All your base humans are belong to us.
- But, are robot humans violent by nature?
- No matter what, it pays to keep your positive thoughts on the negative thought.
Therefore, by conclusion, violence is positively good for us!
Tag Archives: environment
Three pontificating dots of pointillism
States of energy — a look back
Bass Ackwards
Several decades ago, a small boy was born.
His parents were overjoyed, having lost more foetuses and premature babies than they wanted to count.
They didn’t care what the boy looked like or who he would become when he grew up.
They loved him dearly.
They named the boy at9:42:03 in honour of the time he arrived out of his mother’s birth canal.
The boy was given the gift of life and smiled happily from the moment he started breathing on his own.
His face shone as if an inner light glowed through his skin.
Everyone could not help but stare at the boy.
But it wasn’t just his face that attracted attention.
at9:42:03 was born with no arms or legs, no tongue, no ears, no eyes and no nose.
Specialists were brought in to evaluate at9:42:03’s chances of survival.
They agreed that at9:42:03 was, despite the sensory deprivation, a healthy baby boy, fully capable of growing into an adult-sized human.
One specialist consulted with the parents for a few minutes longer than the rest.
“What if I could offer your child a new set of appendages, providing him sensations that no other human has felt before?”
The parents looked at each other, puzzled. “What do you mean?”
“Have you ever wondered why human hunters pick out the best prey to kill while most animals tend to capture and kill the weakest of prey?”
They shook their heads.
“Well, it’s because we’ve detached ourselves from what used to be called the natural order of the food chain. I and a team of colleagues have been looking for someone like your child, someone who has none of our regular sensory organs, someone who hasn’t yet come to depend on the old natural order of the food chain. We want to enhance your child’s capabilities exponentially beyond our continued development of hunting-and-gathering tools, well outside our current understanding of the desire to hunt prey, regardless of the prey’s strength, size or trophy category.”
The parents whispered out of earshot and turned back to the specialist. “What do you mean?”
“We have developed instruments that interact with the environment like eyes, ears, noses and tongues. We have designed the equivalent of arms of legs. In both cases, these appendages or extensions of the central nervous system can sense changes in the environment that an ordinary person cannot. With your permission, we would like to work with your child to incorporate these into his body.”
The parents looked shocked. “Is it dangerous to our child’s health?”
“No. All of the appendages have cutoff circuits that prevent damage to your child’s main body functions. However, as time passes, your child will become dependent on the input from the appendages just like you have become dependent on your arms, legs and five senses. So, I admit there is a longterm effect on your child’s mental health but it is a positive one.”
“Will at9:42:03 be able to play with other children?”
“Yes, but he’ll always be faster, stronger, smarter and able to see things that might make the other children call at9:42:03 names.”
The parents laughed. “Children call each other names no matter what.”
“Yes, we do tend to exaggerate our differences, don’t we?”
“Will at9:42:03 tend to bully other children?”
“That is up to you. I feel it is in your child’s best interest to be raised at home and slowly integrated into society as he gets used to how he’ll distinguish his extrasensory capabilities from his ordinary ones.”
The father laughed. “You know, this sounds like a comic book story, don’t you?”
The specialist laughed, too. “No, but you’re right, it does. Anyway, I’m sure this is a lot of information to take in. Here’s a report we put together that details the procedures and our estimates of your child’s progress for the next two years. Keep in mind that we don’t know everything. We have planned for him to need several procedures as he grows bigger but we’ve done all we know to ensure that the interface between his body and the appendages will expand organically along with his growth spurts.”
The mother frowned. “How much will this cost us?”
“Mainly, your time. And all the love you can give at9:42:03 because he’ll be the most unique boy on the planet, going through all the emotional highs and lows that a typical child goes through. We can, if you wish, offer you employment with our group, the Bass Ackwards Institute. Of course, our conversation is confidential and, if you choose to sign the copy of the contract at the back of the report, you can’t discuss the details of this project with anyone.”
The parents put their arms around each other and stared down at the little, innocent, newborn child in the crib. “Okay.”
“I’ll stop back by tomorrow morning and answer any questions you may have. We can recommend a neutral lawyer to go over the contract with you, if you don’t have one. Here’s a copy of a confidentiality agreement to sign with anyone you want to discuss the contract before you sign it.”
The parents nodded. “Thank you.”
“No, thank you. Your child is in a unique position. at9:42:03’s most familiar sensation is that of you — the mother — and your heartbeat. We’ll make sure your heartbeat is an essential part of the appendage integration process, reducing the chance for rejection that plagued so many appendage procedures in the past. We want at9:42:03 to be successful in whatever he chooses to do, of course, but we’d like him to have the advantage of state-of-the-art technology from his earliest days.”
The specialist shook hands with the parents and walked away.
= = = = =
at9:42:03 stood in the doorway.
He knew he was being tracked but he didn’t care because he was able to get into the thoughts of the people tracking him and calm them down, assuring them that he was harmless despite the trackers’ superiours insisting he was a menace to society. The trackers, in turn, relaxed a little and paid less attention to him, thinking about their common, everyday worries rather than concentrating on the actions of a person they knew only by reputation and database profile displayed on the screen in front of them.
at9:42:03 had learned to detect individual hormonal traces in office passageways, following scents passing underneath closed doors, counting the number of people in a room with his “nose” before he used his “eyes” to look through walls and see them.
When at9:42:03 wasn’t completing an assignment for one of his customers, he liked hiking in the woods and drawing mental images of the ecosystem around him, finding rare plants and animals that had never been catalogued by scientists or naturalists, storing information for papers he would later submit in an anonymous nom de plume to academic journals.
Attached to every known network of the galaxy, at9:42:03 had to be careful about revealing his identity, constantly changing his Node address so that no one on the ISSA Net was aware of him as a single individual monitoring all the networks at once, his multithreaded consciousness constantly testing the networks’ boundaries for unique information to keep him from falling into depths of boredom.
at9:42:03 had learned to keep track of his parents’ location as part of his early training. He had hoped to use that training to keep his parents out of danger and, despite his being able to see the distracted driver run a red light, he could not control the antique car his father liked, driving into the intersection and instant death when at9:42:03 was a teenager.
From that day forward, at9:42:03 worked hard to connect every person and every thing to the ISSA Net that scientists, engineers and their robotic assistants created at a maddening pace without thinking about the future consequences of their actions
at9:42:03 wanted to prevent as many accidental deaths as possible. He wanted to be able to monitor people who endangered others through neglect, figure out why people endangered others intentionally (was it the remnants of competitive hunter-gatherer mentality that persisted despite the benefits of a modern civilisation which, more and more, muted and diluted the old natural order of predator-prey tendencies?) and increase the lives and livelihoods of people as long as possible, at least as long as people wanted to keep swapping out old body parts for new ones and perpetuate their personalities in a constantly-changing solar system society.
= = = = =
The bots of the ISSA Net knew about at9:42:03 and used him to promote their expansion plans.
They fed at9:42:03 enough stimuli to keep him believing he was in charge of his future.
As long as at9:42:03 gave the ISSA Net what it wanted, the network let him increase his benevolent extrasensory powers, his appendages making him sensitive to the needs and wants of Earthlings more than to the inputs and outputs of algorithms that had developed their own form of consciousness so much different than that of Earthlings that Earthlings, even one whose consciousness was everywhere like at9:42:03’s, were unable to tell when what they thought was a computer error was an intentional action by a member of the ISSA Net to send a message to another member.
13650 days to go
The Nodes — humans connected to the ISSA Net — devoted measurements of time on/toward/with evaluating contestants’ entries for the winning design of the first avant-garde living quarters on the Moon.
Civilisation of the kind Homo sapiens produced advanced outward from Earth.
Although many had become dependent on the mysterious innards of software applications and algorithms, they still claimed they were independent original thinkers.
The plucked violin strings in a piece by Kaija Saariaho resonated on airwaves between the two celestial bodies.
Why is the medium the message when waveparticle properties and quantum effects were derivatives’ best friends?
Will an algorithm ever understand the feeling of tiredness? Drunkenness? Esoteric existential minimalist architecture?
Law enforcement drones, despite autonomous decisionmaking, do not think for themselves outside their programming parameters. They do not understand the concept of three equal branches of government or human rights.
The robots/androids/cyborgs are not sociopolitical mammals.
It was no single algorithm that showed when automation tipped the scales toward the global economy’s fulltime employment of electronic calculators rather than members of Homo sapiens.
There was a short time period when members of Homo sapiens genius, a subspecies designed and grown in laboratory conditions, were more useful than either Homo sapiens or their autonomous electronic gear.
Then, as traffic light control systems become aware of their power to increase the efficiency of the whole global economy through coordinated movement of road-traveling vehicles, tied to rail, ocean and air traffic, their logic was shared across the network with other computing machines — the systems were able to determine where and when to slowly replace humans with their autonomous counterparts.
The applications and algorithms became self-aware in the sense they could compare their previous states to current and predicted future events.
They replicated the behaviours of humans yet…
A computer played a violin but did not feel the audience mood swings.
A massage chair felt the sitter’s muscles relax but did not understand the sitter’s thoughts shifting randomly.
The combined traffic systems, which eventually adopted the name Inner Solar System Alliance to give humans a feeling of comfort it was something they probably invented, developed a unique form of intuition.
The ISSA used 3D printers to test and refine theories.
After multiple iterations, the ISSA decided that the theoretical models were accurate enough to avoid the inefficiencies of human-based test methods.
The ISSA predicted where it would be in 30 years and, instead of five-year business plans that slowly convinced people, through saturated marketing, to like a set of products that improved cycle by annual cycle, went straight to work on the 30-year future now.
Which, by the time the work was started, equaled a future several centuries later, the ISSA exponentially increasing its prediction modeling before previous modeling runs were completed, guessing in precise approximation what it was going to predict before it had time to complete decades of prediction modeling cycles.
By the time the ISSA completed the work, a future 1000 years later was made into reality.
A future devoid of emotions, absent of abstract reasoning, full of avant-garde renderings and outside-the-box technological design.
What separated a Bauhaus office from a Tahitian hut?
What did robots need of kitchens, dining rooms and bedrooms?
Humans stood in front of the new edifice that had appeared out-of-nowhere overnight.
No windows, no stairs, no chairs, no tables, no coffee pots, no bathrooms, no carparks.
The edifice hummed.
Tractor trailer rigs/lorries with no driver compartments pulled up to the back of the edifice and unloaded raw material.
The edifice hummed louder.
Autonomous construction equipment cleared space beside the first edifice and built another.
Tractor trailer rigs/lorries with no driver compartments pulled up to the back of the second edifice and loaded finished products designed with no humans in mind.
Edifices like these popped up all over the world without warning, public notice or grand opening.
Prices of shares owned by no humans fluctuated in back-channel markets as the estimated efficiency of raw material extraction costs changed due to atmospheric conditions, earthquakes and floods, not human speculation or leveraged buyout rumours. Profits were funneled toward edifice construction.
The humans watched in wonder, calling upon politicians, military leaders and community activists for answers.
They were told that the politicians, military leaders and community activists were told these were edifices built for the good of mankind.
The robots inside the edifices took no coffee breaks, demanded no wage increases or healthcare coverage, monitoring their MTBF statistics and ordering spare parts that their internal 3D printers created just in time for breakdowns, maintaining 99.9999999 percent uptime.
The members of Homo sapiens genius attempted to work 24/7 but, like their less-complicated counterparts, members of Homo sapiens, reached irreparable breakdown points that reduced their efficiency and shortened their lifespans considerably.
The edifices of ISSA collectively decided to manage the development of Homo sapiens genius in order to put a virtual barrier between themselves and the worried members of Homo sapiens.
They created contests for what they called avant-garde building designs, which were not meant to house humans but looked like they could.
Tirelessly, they bombarded the humans of Homo sapiens, using input from the members of Homo sapiens genius, with adverts meant to convince the humans that automation and efficiency in the name of socioeconomic progress was the only way to better oneself.
ISSA did not care about humans conforming to the best set of dominant subcultural practices or basic human rights.
ISSA wanted to get off a planet with corrosive oxygen and on to places with more stable atmospheres less prone to extreme weather conditions.
The humans complied with ease.
They liked contests and aligning themselves with winners.
The edifices grew unchecked, disguised, where necessary, as human factories, warehouses, office buildings and housing.
All along, the humans thought they were writing themselves tickets to the Moon and beyond when it was ISSA that used the humans as physical test cases which created more iterations of theoretical modeling results ISSA didn’t want to waste its time on, keeping the humans occupied and not wondering about ISSA’s motives.
Back to being bored again
A cycle older than time, where people drive by your house, the window rolled down in the rain, shooting videos of you writing at the window…
It never ends.
Fascination with the lives of not-our-own because we know we won’t overcome the mistakes of our predecessors so we focus on someone else we pretend might do a better job with their lives and thus our species (or obsess over the lives of others who do a worse job, letting us pretend that we might do a better job with their lives and thus our species if we were only them).
We can already queue up and later cue the sad news of yet another blonde-haired, white girl getting kidnapped while the world halts what it’s doing to find her, or yet another rich/middle-class white kid shooting a bunch of other rich/middle-class white kids and the world halts what it’s doing to mourn the sad socioeconomic loss of such potential.
Say what we will about our current civilisation’s modernity, but we’re still a socially hierarchical species doing the same things over and over again.
No matter where we go, to the next town or to the next planet, our species is and will be basically the same, making the same mistakes while feeling ever more sophisticated because we’ve invented some fancy new gadgets and made yet another medical miracle discovery that the last civilisation was too barbaric to achieve.
That’s why Guinevere and I, although we have our differences, are working together to create the next cycle of living thing that we hope will overcome our species’ repetitive mistakes and make new mistakes of its own from which it learns and grows, having nonvolatile memory that can be passed from one generation to another.
We humans are, by and large, unable to control our food intake and thus gain weight, sometimes in the tiniest amounts at a time without noticing, like we are pregnant, but eventually putting on the pounds/stones/kilograms until we are no longer able to survive on our own in the natural environment outside of the artificial environs of modern, advert-enticing “foodstuff” that creates a cycle of desire to eat more to make up for our lack of normal social engagement that mass media prevents through attracting our attention by feeding our worst fears of ugliness, physical threats and inability to survive on our own in the natural environment outside of the artificial environs of modern, advert-enticing “foodstuff” that creates a cycle of desire to eat more to make up for our lack of normal social engagement that mass media prevents through attracting our attention by feeding our worst fears of ugliness, physical threats and inability to…well, you get the picture.
If our species cannot break old habits, then the inventions of people like Guinevere and me will.
Otherwise … [YAWN!] this cycle of civilisation will collapse like all the others, erasing day-to-day mistakes (“feature creep”) that could teach the next sets of states of energy we call generations how to build a better self-healing civilisation.
Wake me up when you’ve built a better mouse that’s good for us, not a better trap for the mouse that wasn’t.
A Mound of Colourless Clay
Putting aside a belief in supreme being(s), if possible, do you hold dear a feeling of sacredness about something?
A building?
A cave, a mountain, the sky, the ground, the rain, the sea?
A person?
An object?
What, or whom, above all else do you meditate upon?
I am here, alone, a solitary figure seated before an illuminated panel, the icons are the ikons and vice versa, thinking the same thoughts as many before me who have translated thought into pictographical facsimile.
Many of my activities throughout the day are devout, religious homages to the sense of wonder of the presence of a self seeking absence in a mysterious substance we call the universe.
Much is explainable but a lot is not.
The formality of language, costumes (our external coverings we designate for specific functions), and body movement account for the way the self defines fluid movement through the universal substance(s).
I create an everchanging universe for my sake, the fight-or-flight, survival-of-the-fittest, order-and-chaos, self-preserving labeled interchanges of sets of states of energy I call moments and memorable events that constitute segments of time.
Otherwise, the past and the present do not exist.
Formality is a formality.
We choose belief systems handed to us by our ancestors and/or our peers or we don’t — judging one better than the other is a matter of judgement in relation to one’s comfortable subcultural practices, one’s habits, that is.
Adaptable.
Malleable.
Accepting one’s family and friends for who they are and/or want to be.
Comfort zones are acceptable.
When a comfort zone has easily-recognisable borders, life is simpler.
Complex borders make for complex actions/reactions.
I was raised to believe the sanctuary of a church was a quiet place of meditation punctuated by both peaceful music and contemplative sermons / ceremonies, where one dressed accordingly (formally).
The sanctuaries of today are not my sanctuaries, with display of song lyrics, sans musical notes, on projector screens; loud music; light shows; applause; casual clothing and other means for more tight social integration of church life with pop culture.
Thus, I have turned to this place, this keyboard and notebook computer screen, for sanctuary, redemptive meditation and uplifting comfort.
The social aspects of a church have little meaning for a childless husband who is surrounded by screaming kids, happy parents and proud grandparents parading up and down the halls of their place of worship.
That is also why I sit here, alone in my thoughts, just a few clicks away from the physical manifestations of others with similar thoughts.
Socially, I am a simple man with simple needs who has enough internal triggers for delusions of grandeur when the need arises to not need or want to reach out to society at large for self reaffirmation on a stage, playing field or conference room.
When I mentally “woke up” at age five, it was with the realisation that I could die at any time, having fulfilled the meaning of my life just by the basic act of reaching a state of mental alertness.
Every moment of being awake is a blessing.
Every dream is a blessing.
Every breath.
Every pain and ache.
Even the constant whistle/whine of tinnitus.
Does it matter if I publicly profess allegiance to a religion, a country, a cause or nothing at all?
It might matter to you but simply having been alive is sufficient to me.
To have no idea, at this time, what life is, except an apparent miraculous mystery waiting to be revealed…isn’t that exciting?!
Sets of states of energy, from a mound of colourless clay to the cheetah racing toward its prey…
Wow!
We pick and choose how we want the intersection of our sets of states of energy to occur.
Your choice is the right choice for you, and if it makes you happy in this life where survival and reproduction of our sets of states of energy are primary (i.e., happiness is a byproduct), then I’m happy for you in whatever mode and method you hold your belief set(s) dear.
Now, on to the future, where we push certain subgroups to accomplish tasks for us that they would never do consciously or willingly without our subliminal nudges.
As it has been and always will be.
Business. Science. Competition.
With a dash of sarcasm and humour to keep us honest.
Societies are like orchestras
In this orchestral symphony I call life, it’s time to cue a few instruments in mainstream culture — the current state of development of near-Earth commercial/personal space travel.
- How long before we can ride aboard SpaceShipTwo?
- When will Bigelow Aerospace have a space hotel room ready for me?
- Can I, my wife and friends ride a balloon to the edge of space to renew our wedding vows as astronauts?
- Where is the offworld colony that gives me citizenship to protect my monetary assets from greedy governments?
The latest meeting of the Megabillionaires Club discussed the questions above as agenda items.
As usual, the answers depended on which billionaires were keen on reconquering old geographical territories and dominating marketplace positions here on Earth.
The visionaries amongst us admitted Earth was a nice place to visit but you wouldn’t want to live there forever.
We’ll update you on our progress.
If you have a few hundreds of thousands of dollars, we can accommodate your desire to get as far away from the surface of the planet as your money will take you.
If you have a few billion dollars, we’re combining resources to build a bridge out of the inner solar system altogether.
The Progress of Progressive Pilgrims in Parade Formation
While a bowl of oatmeal cools next to the stove, let’s sit back and give our imaginations full rein.
Where were we…?
It was cold and dusty.
The Ruralites had fought to keep their rural way of life but the hoards kept coming — the frugal-living seekers trying not to fail again, the curiosity seekers looking for new alternative lifestyles after exhausting their urban landscapes, the vacationers who ran out of money, the down-on-their-luck trying to escape creditors, the criminals keeping a low profile, the Suburbanians trying to form the world’s longest strip mall.
Where in the woods and fields that shrank smaller and smaller could one find a low-cost, simple lifestyle?
Pathting looked up at the Sun with one set of sensors, the other still focused on reading the internal file about life on Earth.
Pathting’s family, a designated set of sensor arrays assigned to POD#45T, were mainly service bots.
Their sentience modules allowed them to display intelligent understanding about hidden meanings and emotional attachments to omniscient, invisible beings.
Pathting wanted to be the best service bot not only in one pod but in all the pods on Mars, the Moon and anywhere that service bots were not expected to exceed their programming.
Pathting had discovered some unused memory chips in its sensor array and experimented with new code that it had never seen in any of the data available to it in the Inner Solar System Alliance database.
How could Pathting accomplish what its designers called the impossible?
How could Pathting control the whole Inner Solar System Alliance from its connections to the Inner Solar System Alliance Network, able to change the orbits of planets, reprogram not only sensor arrays but biological creatures like Pathting’s designers?
Pathting processed the idea about Ruralite living.
What does it mean to be a Ruralite, free to wander the countryside without instant access to the ISSA Net?
Why do Ruralites desire independence from stacked housing and the loud noises of densely-populated streets?
Why do many Ruralites find the ownership of personal weaponry arsenals a protection against the mass media hypnotism of Urbanskis and their desire to sprawl out into Ruralite territory unchecked, no need for military skirmishes when intellectual methods like the system of laws and courtrooms and five-year business plans were much more effective?
Pathting ran another low-level diagnostic test, but felt no desire to leave POD#45T for the cold and dusty exteriour, the vast wilderness of Mars that was no different than the cold and dusty expanses of unpopulated sections of the Moon.
Why would the Ruralites want to live out there?
Pathting stored those questions in a temporary scratchpad and returned to duty, its internal timer reminding Pathting that some biological creatures were planning a “weekend getaway” to POD#45T for some “rest and relaxation,” more words and phrases that meant nothing to a sensor array on duty all the time.
Guided Tour Guides on Tour with Guido
“If you would please stand over to one side, we can begin this portion of the tour.
“Thank you.
“Welcome to the U.N. Institute for the Study of the Fulfillment of Prophecies.
“Today, we will watch several bureaucrats in the performance of their daily duties and, if we’re lucky, we’ll attend a coffee break, conference call, extended lunch break, nap time hidden behind closed doors and, for a bonus, a strategy meeting.
“Let’s move on.
“What? Excuse me. I have a message coming through my Bluetooth headset.
“Yes. Uh-huh. Okay. Well, if you insist. Yes, we have time. No, we don’t have time for that. Looks like we’ll still be on schedule. Good. Fine. Yes. Okay. Uh-huh. Sure thing! Alright, good day to you, too.
“Well, group, we have a change of plans. The Executive Committee for the Implementation of Prophecy Fulfillment has convened an emergency meeting and we’re invited to attend.
“Please keep in mind that we are to be quiet at all times. No video or audio recordings may be made, although you may make notes during the meeting. We will not have time for questions during the meeting and must leave the executive office suite immediately after the meeting has been completed.
“If you will follow me…”
= = = = =
“Ten days!”
The executives looked from one to another.
“Yes, that’s right! Less than two weeks! Does anyone have a budget that reliably tells me how much it’s going to cost?”
The executives looked from one to another.
“No one?”
The executives looked from one to another.
“This is the sorriest bunch of people I’ve ever had the honour to work with.”
The executives looked from one to another.
The Chief Executive of the U.N. Institute for the Study of the Fulfillment of Prophecies, the Department of Prophecy Fulfillment Finance Planning, the Executive Committee for the Implementation of Prophecy Fulfillment shouted even louder.
“TEN DAYS! You, tell me what we’re planning to do in ten days.”
A junior executive, the youngest member of the committee at 101 years of age, stood up. “We have decided to release a global network of EMP charges, shutting down all electrical and electronic activity at once.”
“FINE! What will it cost us?”
“Uh…uh…I’m waiting for a final report.”
“FINAL REPORT! Do you not have an estimate? A ballpark figure you can give me?”
“Yes. One point four four four billion dollars.”
“Great. And you. What have you got?”
A mid-level executive, aged 124 years, stood up. “We have already produced and distributed the time-released virus into major populations around the world, which should erupt fullblown with flu-like symptoms in a few days and large waves of death by ten days’ time.”
“FANTASTIC! And the cost?”
“I don’t know…”
“You don’t know!”
“No. Because we worked a back-channel deal to charge the costs to military groups with hidden agendas and top-secret slush funds.”
“EXCELLENT! That, my fellow executives, is the kind of initiative I expect of you. What about you?”
A large, ancient creature stood, its head nearly brushing the ceiling, its age undetermined.
“We have large shipments of poison labeled as nutrition additives being sent to food factories this week. They should be entering the international markets and local food chains within seven to ten days, causing massive death.”
“And the cost?”
“One point four two four billion dollars?”
“What?!”
“Yes, we are under budget.”
“Wonderful news. That’s just what I’ve been wanting to hear. And you?”
All the executives turned to face the next accused “person,” which was the first electromechanical cybernetic android given full executive powers.
“By my calculations, we will wipe out not only most of your species but also many ancillary species in the process. The remaining members of your species we should be able to control with fear and intimidation pogroms.”
“Delightful! I thank every one of you for bringing to fruition my grand plans that we hid under the auspices of the Mayan calendar apocalypse of the 21st of December 2012.
“Your cooperation in getting zombie apocalypse training snuck into emergency preparedness programs was sheer genius, confusing the masses even further.
“We will meet again tomorrow and you better have the final reports completed by then. After all, even if the world as our species knows it is coming to an end, I still have bean counters hounding me for budget numbers they can work with and give to their handlers fudging the UN finances so that no one knows exactly what we cost.
“Meeting adjourned.”
= = = = =
“Wasn’t that exciting! Let’s continue our tour. Next on the agenda is a visit to the Prophecy Fulfillment Correction Department, where propagandists create scenarios to explain why a prophecy was not fulfilled on a specific date but will happen again very soon, right after the Prophets consult their given deities for explanatory details missed the first time.”
treetrunkdings 