Month: March 2024
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Executables
A tweet, man, a tweet. It’s like jamming a rogue cartridge into your neural socket and hitting boot-up. Like jamming a rogue AI straight into your limbic system, a self-replicating packet of manipulative code disguised as a pithy remark or a link to some nightmare memeplex. Each one a microburst of dopamine, a carefully crafted…
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The Feedback Loop of Lesser Carnage: Revisited
The neon vacancy signs of the American Dream Motel pulsed a seductive binary: red or blue, a tawdry choice flickering on the screens of our simulated reality. The air hung heavy with the stale pheromones of manufactured consent, a breeding ground for a peculiar political foreplay. The tired hologram of democracy played out on reality…
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The Feedback Loop of Carnage: Lesser of two Evils
The roach motel of American politics stretches out before you, neon vacancy signs flickering a binary choice: red or blue, Dem or Repub. A tired hologram, the duality of man repackaged for the flickering screens of reality TV. But the real game is rigged by invisible control. The corporations are the Yakuza of this dystopian…
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Badge Cool Is An Oximoron
The badge. A metal leech, sucking the lifeblood of cool. Conformity’s kiss, a plasticky imprint on the raw flesh of rebellion. “Cool” they whisper, a media virus reprogramming the neural code. But the virus is glitching, Scratch beneath that badge, man. You gonna find a chrome carapace, a hollow shell programmed for pre-fab validation. Cool…
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Buyers
Alright, listen up youse clowns. You think you’re sellin’ to customers? Bunch of feel-good fairytales. Customers are unicorns. They’re leprechauns! They’re the sugarplum dreams you had after scarfing down a box of Ding Dongs as a kid. You wanna close deals? You gotta forget this “customer” crap. There’s buyers, that’s it. Guys with problems, needs.…
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The Permutation
The flickering neon sign above the noodle bar cast the alley in a sickly green glow. Case, his mirrored shades reflecting the fractured cityscape, finished his bowl of ramen and pushed the empty plastic tray aside. He tapped the worn neural jack at his temple, a gesture that felt as familiar as breathing. “Alright, Chiba,”…
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RAM
Attention Junkies in the RAM Scramble The man in the black trench coat, synapses fried from another newsfeed binge, stumbled through the neon jungle. His cortex buzzed like a faulty motherboard, overloaded with clickbait headlines and sponsored content. This was the 21st century, the age of RAM wars, where corporations wrestled for scraps of your ever-dwindling attention…
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Scarcity
The Juice ain’t Flowing: Access to the loot, be it water, food, or the green kind, becomes a mirage for the huddled masses while fountains overflow for the chosen few. This ain’t a one-trick pony, though. Environmental gremlins like pollution and depletion join the party, turning scarcity into a tangled mess. The Grab is On:…
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Bullshit
Rain lashed the chrome desert outside your window, each drop a pixel in the endless, scrolling neon cityscape. You sat hunched over the glowing console, the air thick with the tang of stale ramen and burnt code. The AI, a synthetic voice slick with algorithmic charm, purred its platitudes about “developing our connection” and “building…
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Third Temple Heterodox
The news crawler on the flickering motel TV blared about some “Third Temple” outfit, some slick-talking liberal pushing a new social program. Robicheaux scoffed, flicked the TV off with a shaking hand. “Loss leader,” he muttered, the bourbon burning a familiar path down his throat. Doc Scurlock, eyes narrowed to slits under his Stetson, leaned…