Xylophone Zoo

The following scene is set in a Parisian themed bistro on The Moon called “Xylophone Zoo” located in a small city, in the Sea of Tranquility, known as Sky Den. By a window, there is a wonderful view of Earth as prominent as a full moon would be in Paris. Outside the window is a dog wearing a doggy space suit, tethered to a pole outside of the café within sight of it. His owner is on the other side of the window drinking a cup of Venusian Latte when he is approached by someone wearing a white sweater and a pair of jeans. His appointment. “Where’s Fido?” he asks.
“Outside, tethered to a very hospitable pole. He’s got his helmet and his canine space suit and a few hours of oxygen to help sustain the time. He’ll be fine.”
“Why wouldn’t they let him inside? There’s plenty of oxygen to go around.”
“Well The Xylophone Zoo is the only zoo I know of that doesn’t allow animals inside of it. The only animal in their zoo is of the homosapien variety. Canine's craving coffee must inquire elsewhere for their fix for the Xylophone will not have them. How are you feeling?”
“I feel like I’m consumed by a kind of werewolf from Titan.”
“Saturn’s finest son”. Though their wolves are much to handle.”
“Their women are even more of a handful.”
“What did you want to talk about? Keep in mind you only get only fifteen minutes. I’m not supposed to be talking to the family member of a reject applicant. So what is on your mind?”
“Earth.”
“My most, and least, favorite topic simultaneously. What do you need from it and what do you need from me?”
“I need to get a transit visa for someone.”
“For who?”
“A relative.”
“Yours or your wife’s?”
“My wife’s cousin," he said, "She’s a hard-worker.”
“With her mind or with her hands?”
“The second category.”
“The cost of a visa, and the cost of transportation, and the cost of living while she properly absorbs herself into Luna is more than her hands could ever produce in a lifetime. If we want strong backs and dexterous hands we have machines for that. For what the machines can’t handle we have plenty of cheap workers to choose from that we got back when the world’s nations were interested in establishing a kind of franchise here on Luna. America 2. Japan 2.0. France deuxième. Back when Earthian’s were subsidizing the costs of bringing their refugees here because they wanted to, at least, maintain some continuity in the universe if diplomacy on Earth show failed and hindsight will soon reveal that to be inevitable. Now they’re just desperate to find a diplomatic solution that doesn’t end in Armageddon. Luna, in general, was willing to absorb such refugees because the governments of Earth were paying us to do so. And they were paying us kindly. However, if the burden of the expense is placed on us to do, what were only a short while ago we were being paid to do, we don’t particularly care to oblige. Humanitarian concerns aside at the end of the day its credits we care about. Extraneous debits we do not.”
“One exception is all I ask. Reconsider her application. I have a quarter million credits I could give you.”
“Are you trying to bribe me?”
“If that’s what it takes.”
“250,000 credits wouldn’t even be enough to get her half way here.”
“I was thinking you could have the means to retire at Lake Sister Largo. 250,000 credits could easily buy you a unit there. A friend of mine could ensure that you get accepted to their finest country club. Name a club you want to be a member of and it’s done. Just do this favor for my family.”
“No,” he says, with a prominent view of Earth in the skyline, “Luna has enough people already. Maybe too many. Yes, we have the room and yes we do have the oxygen and lunar soil is surprisingly accommodating of agriculture. So it’s not that we’re worried about an extra mouth to feed or an extra pair of lungs to take our ‘precious air’. We are very good at thawing ice and extracting oxygen from it. We have surpluses of clean air and food and if it were not for the transportation costs we probably could export it to Earth. It certainly could use some. Also, golf’s not really my sport. Especially on The Moon. Golf isn’t as much fun with one-eighth the gravity.”
“So what’s the problem if you have all the basics and plenty of them? Just one human being from Tokyo is all I ask.”
“You ask too much. Now are you going to order a latte or call it a day? The choice is up to you.”

Suddenly something happens on Earth and we can see it from the window of Xylophone Zoo. However neither the man in the white sweater or the government official he is talking to notice or acknowledge the weird thing happening on Earth. “I hope Fido outside runs out of oxygen, The Man in the White Sweater says to The Government Official while every nuclear arsenal on Earth detonates simultaneously creating huge fireballs that light up the Earth like reddish-orange spots that quickly flicker away. “You should order the zoo’s Astro chai, and a Jupiterian biscotti while you're at it,” the government official on Luna says as everything on Earth is terribly inconvenienced by the end of the world. “ It’s the best two credits you could ever spend.”

Instead of replying verbally The Man in the White Sweater gives him the finger and walks out of the Parisan-themed café on The Moon. The government official finishes his Venusians latte while all life on Earth comes to an end.

1965

In 1965 the following conversation happened between father and son. It began with the son running into a room after hearing a television press conference and saying to his father, “Hey dad. Have you heard the news? They say they’re building another Disneyland in the area. It’s far…but not that far. It’s near Orlando.” The father chuckles, knowing the sons idea is preposterous to the point of being comical. He laughs, confusing his son by his response. Clarifying, he says, “Mister Disney is not building another theme park. If he is actually building another park it certainly isn’t going to be in Florida of all places. Maybe New York, or DC, or heck even Cleveland but certainly not in the middle of gods-nowhere marshland Florida, all surrounded by the Everglades or anything solid, and no way it’ll be damn right in the center of that nowhere either. If they put one shovel in the ground they’ll strike water. So either Mister Disney has been conned or he’s the one doing the conning. Given his success over the years my guess is the latter. However, decades of worldliness have taught me that’s its more likely the latter.”
"But dad. They sounded serious. Mister Disney and Governor Burns said they would. Why would they lie?”

The Father looks at his son and smiles the way someone might smile, or chuckle to themself, if they realized that their teenage son still believed that Santa Clause or The Tooth Fairy still existed ”Son," he says, "Let me tell you something. They aren’t building the place for real. It’s all talk; hot air at best, at worse -- a con to bamboozle simple folk, simple folk who don’t know no better. Simple folk like us."
"Why?"
"You see once real estate speculators catch wind of all of this speculation and get hog happy and buy up all the surrounding land, thinking there’s going to be another Disneyland in the area, that's when the real fortune will be made. That’s when them clever Hollywood and New York lawyers of Mister Disney are going to sell that land many times over it’s original price and make truck loads full of money. They'll do so before anyone catches wind of the going-on scam. Leaving us with a huge profit and leaving the rest of us with land we couldn’t give away. It’s a con, son; true and true. A good one too. I got to give them credit. It's brilliant.” ”But…”
”Son. I’ve been in the world close to thirty years longer than you and in that time I have seen a thing or two and esteem myself a decent evaluator of character. This is all part of some clever scam so Mister Disney can make a whole lot of money swindling simple folk; and it’s a brilliant scam and it’s going to work because simple people want to make small wishes into big dreams. The people of Orange and Osceola county are being played. Like the “Music Man” and we’ll believe it because we’ll want it to be true. We want to be tricked as much as Mister Disney wants to trick us. Tat’s what them Hollywood-folks are counting on."
"But dad…!”
”Son. Ain’t no one building a theme park in Florida. There's no plan to and they never will. It's all a scam to make money. And one day when people lose interest in the space program, too, no one is going to have ANY other reason to visit Florida, less they want to go to Miami or the Keys soak in sun; and their ain’t no ferries to Cuba anymore. So there’s no business coming Florida's way way from that source either.” The father taps his son on the shoulder and says, “Ain’t nobody going to build a theme park in Orlando, and that’s that.”

Two Avatars

Two avatars, in a fantasy themed MMORPG video game , are talking to each other courtesy of V/O IP as they walk in the fields of Elttaes Notgnihsaw. The Dwarf says to The Wizard, “I have noticed that a lion is most dangerous near the end of its life. This led me to the inescapable conclusion that the pillars that support our affluent society are collapsing. Now the bare bone structures are being revealed for what they truly are. Frivolous buttresses supporting nothing. Let us hope that they can support all the weight that has recently made their acquaintance and has created an unbearable burden on his talcum spine. But I am pretty sure that many things will not endure. However make sure your polygons don't fret. This mass entropy happens every few generations or so. When society is forced to think, rethink and adapt or risk its own extinction by failing to 'go with the program' and 'let blood', if you will. To change according to its circumstances; oh brother it is not chaos even though it appears that way. Chaos has passed. Now we’re in entropy and it is a beautiful sight just make sure you're wearing the right eyewear because looking at entropy's a lot like looking at the sun during a total lunar solar eclipse. What do you think?"

The computer generated Wizard will reply to The Dwarf by saying: "I think what makes us human is slowly being taken away from us. Vicarious living through technology has stripped away a lot of our humanity. I have grown tired of the simulated life and all its empty promises that do nothing but multiply my existential hunger. I wrote all about the reasons why I'm doing in this on my blog. You were a good friend Gimri. We have vanquished many foes with the sword; with your hammer and my staff we have wrecked many trolls and demons acquiring their much coveted XP. I want you to know that I consider you to be as my brother, if not by blood but by pixel are we brothers and I am glad to have known you for you have been a most awesome B-F-F, and I hoping to be considered likewise in your eyes. Your physical prowess and my magic have made us an unstoppable duo for the last three weeks and a half weeks but you alone now must slay the Dragon of Ragnorak at the City of Mist, along the Coast of Nhoj the Remmargrop. It is a shame we have never met in person but San Diego is so far from Tulsa and I simply have not acquired enough frequent-flyer miles to offset the travel costs considerably to make the trip worthwhile. And now I never will for I have friend requested The Grim Reaper and he has approved. Goodbye old friend. May all your subsequent days be Valhalla on Earth. Goodbye." Then on the other end of the phone call we hear a gunshot, and then a short while later a thud, a crash and The Dwarf saying to the Wizard, "George? Are you alright?"

Pablo the Magic Fish

A man is in the middle of a lake, fishing. He drinks from the water bottle he’s holding with one hand while he holds the fishing rod with the other. Suddenly he feels a tug, drops the water bottle after capping it, and uses both hands to keep hold of the elusive catch whose lip is now caught on his fishing rod. Eventually he overpowers the unseen fish. He reels it in and gets it onto the boat. The fisherman rejoices at his catch while it struggles to breathe, suffocating. The fisherman laughs. A sweet release from the anxiety created by sitting on a boat for the better part of a full day and having nothing to show for it. Now the fisherman has something. He goes over to drink water from his mostly full water bottle when he hears a voice say, “Water!” The fisherman turns around to find the source of the voice. He hears the request for water again but doesn’t see the person who said. “Who are you? Who said that?”

“Water,” the voice asks again, “Please…water.” The fisherman finally sees the source of the plea. It is the fish he just caught. At first he doesn’t believe that he heard or saw what he just heard and saw until the fish repeats his request by saying, “Please…sir…water…I…can’t…breathe.” – “Did you just speak?” – “Please…water. I…can’t…breathe.” The man rushes over to the fish with his bottle and tries to pour down his lips. The fish spits it out and says, “On gills…pour on gills.” The Fisherman does so. “You can talk?”
“Yes,” he says, “Especially when I’m able to breathe.” If fish could wink he certainly would have done so just then. However The Fisherman understood his meaning and continued to pour water on his gills.”
“This can’t be real,” said The Fisherman, “I must be imagining things.”
“Just pinch yourself.” The Fish recommends.
“Pinching myself only proves that I’m not dreaming. It doesn’t prove I’m not hallucinating.”
“Well you’re not hallucinating. Now let me go.”
“So this is real, you can talk?”
“Yes. Now let me go.”
“Why should I?”
“Why should you? Because it’s the right thing to do for starts.”
“That’s not a good enough reason.”
“Well if you let me go I’ll grant you three wishes.”
“If I let you go how are you going to grant me any wishes?”
“Just let me go, sir. There’s nothing wrong with ‘catch and release’. In fact it’s actually a lot more masculine than simply catching a fish. You see, anyone can catch a fish but letting one go; now that’s the test of a true man.”
“Nice try Nemo but why would I throw you back in the lake and have nothing for my trouble when I can keep you and have everything. You’re coming home with me.”
“Why?”
“See things from my point of view. I just found a talking fish. I could make millions off of you. At carnival shows and things of that nature. I could also take you on the talk show circuit or even have a special exhibit of you at Sea World, or its equivalent. I’ll be rich and famous and my family will be set for life. Who wouldn’t pay to see a talking fish?”
“It depends on what he says.”
“I’ll make sure you say nothing but clean and wholesome things if you’re implying that you’ll do otherwise and be profane and vulgar instead.”
“What if I refuse?”
“I’ll find a way to make sure that you don’t.”
“What if I decline to speak? No one would pay a dime to see a fish that doesn’t talk. Not unless they can eat him after. However eating a fish after you paid to see him discourages repeat business. Such an enterprise won’t last for long.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll find a way to make you talk if you should refuse to speak.”
“Well then you leave me no choice?”
“No choice? What could you possibly do to me?”
“What if I told you that Margaret, Ashley and Cody were in danger right now?”
“How do you know my family’s name?”
“Let’s not concern ourselves with how I know and instead concern ourselves with what I plan to do with that knowledge.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Five…four…three…two…” Suddenly The Fisherman’s phone rings. At first The Fisherman is startled by the timing but quickly gathers himself and answers the phone. “Hello.”

A woman, on the phone, frantically cries out, “They’re holding us hostage. They have a gun pointed to our heads. They say they’ll…” Suddenly there’s a moment of silence that is quickly replaced with a man’s voice saying, “If you ever want to see your family again you will listen carefully. If you do not let release my friend Pablo from your boat we will start with your wife first. You have three minutes to decide.” He hangs up on him leaving The Fisherman with a difficult decision to make. The Fish says, “We’ll you heard Ivan. What’ll it be? Your family or your future fame and fortune?” After serious but hasty contemplation The Fisherman arrives at a decision says, “Damn you Pablo. Damn you to hell!” And in that moment he grabs the fish and throws it back into the ocean.”
He watches it swim away while drinking the rest of the bottle of water he used to keep Pablo breathing. Suddenly, The Fisherman’s phone rings and he answers it. It’s his wife. “They just left. They’re gone.”
“Is everyone fine?”
“Yeah,” she says, “What did those men want? Who’s Pablo?”
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

"Young Abe Lincoln" Plays Sega

One night in 1994, Artemis Finkleberry, a Civil War re-enactor with an uncanny resemblance to a young Abraham Lincoln, was playing Mortal Kombat II on a Sega Genesis he had rented from Blockbuster Video earlier that night. He had broken up with us his girlfriend over a trivial issue sometime in the afternoon and got too familiar with a bottle of Merlot around Happy Hour. However that didn’t matter to him. Only the buttons on his controller and the television screen were real to him anymore. Artemis Finkleberry was gone. He was Johnny Cage fighting for Earthrealm now. Shao Kahn doesn’t stand a chance.

In the middle of his Scorpion’s Living Forest, there was an epic battle between a ninja with honeybee color named Scorpion and a famous movie star named Johnny Cage. Artemis played Johnny, the computer played as Scorpion. Now even though Artemis got a few good kicks that made sure the battle would not end in flawless victory he himself was not able to get victory. Scorpion knew better combos and pulled them off masterfully. He had won. Suddenly the words Artemis and his proxy Johnny didn’t want to hear were inevitably uttered. “Finish Him!” Scorpion obliged. He did his chain-thing bringing Johnny “over here”. Johnny was ready to receive his “fatality” when Scorpion broke routine and said, “Johnny. May I ask you a question?” Johnny was in no condition to refuse anything. “How often to yesterday's epiphanies degrade into tomorrow's scrap heap of lame explanation. Don't you wish to find something a little more substantial?” He hands Johnny a pamphlet he fetches from his pocket and says, “Once upon a time there was a man named Joseph Smith and one day he discovered two golden tablets…."

Artemis, a little spooked, removes the cartridge from the Sega and replaces it with Sonic the Hedgehog 2. He plays several levels of smooth sailing until he gets to Aquatic Ruin Zone. Sonic and Tails were underwater running, collecting coins as they did so, when Sonic suddenly stopped for a moment to ponder an idea. Tails looked around and gave a gesture, as if to say, “What are you doing? We have to get out of this place.” Tails looks at a nearby air bubble while Sonic just stands there lost in thought. Suddenly, Sonic screams, though a little muffled by the fact that he’s underwater, a message loud and clear, “Repent for the time of the kingdom of heaven is near.”

Artemis, who plays professional plays Abraham Lincoln when he was twenty, immediately rushes to remove the cartridge and replace it with “Madden 95’. All was good and proper in the game, football simulator, until The Oilers came across a twenty-foot tall statue of The Buddha, who called himself Sid, on the fifty yard line. Curious they asked the gold-plated lead statue how he got there He answered “Croatian moving men. Strongest backs in the Balkans.” One of the players on the field called out, “I know a Bulgarian who’d disagree with you.”
“Tell your friend to go lift a piano and then a one ton Buddha statue and then he can talk. Oh he can’t lift a one ton Buddha statue. You want to know why? Because only a Croatian can do that. How do I know that? Because I know what I’m talking about that’s why,” then “Sid” addressing the other players on the field says, Now gather round children and we will speak of samsara and lava lamps. You can ‘thanka’ me later.” The Buddha Statue laughs but no one else does. “My sophisticated humor is wasted on you jocks. Oh well. First we begin at birth…”

Artemis immediately removes the cartridge. He assembles together the three games he played that night looks at them with tremendous skepticism and fear. At that moment he decides to do two things. One, return the Genesis and the three games he rented the following morning. Two, call up his girlfriend, apologize and agree that, “Yes, it’s true. I do play way too many video games and no, you’re not too pretty to play Mrs. Abraham Lincoln. You’re perfect.”

Hippos in the Living Room

I had a dream that went as followed. I was hired to become a special education teacher's assistant to an attractive teacher named Claudia (who, for some reason, also pulls double duty as the bus driver for the little bus that takes the special kids to school). This bus she drove picked me up in my old cul-de-sac in Rockland County. karaoke, I am invited to a home with hippos in the living room. The floor was covered in a transparent oil-like substance somewhere between KY Jelly, vegetable oil and sucrose. I am up to my ankles in this fluid. The man, whose we were inviting to, went on about how his home - the living room, especially - was once an oil refinery until things were "cleaned up for the betterment of all". Suddenly, one of the hippos swimming in "the fluid" tries to eat me and the attractive friend that was with me. The owner said they were hippos after all and "should be excused for all their transgressions, small to many," then he said, "We should keep our distance.

Immediately, after this the owner took me, and me alone, outside to show me the way out of his home. It turned out that I was in Columbus Circle, in close proximity to the Time Warner Building. It turned out, I was on the large rampart several feet off the ground. Then he climbed down the walls in a way which made me both envious and scared because I knew I could not replicate his style of climbing, which closely resembled strategic free-falling and grabbing hold of a protruding stone on the wall at the last possible moment. In spite of the free I decided to climb down the wall in my own way (without copying what I saw worked for someone else). I successfully climbed down to street level. Then I woke up.

Dolphins and Hackers Don't Mix

During the trial of the century an attorney said, "Ladies and gentlemen of the jury. In my opinion, take it for what it’s worth, Johnny Mnemonic was a decent movie, but once they threw a dolphin in there for absolutely no reason it lost all credibility. It might have been a cool feature of the original William Gibson story -which I never read - but in movies the level of coolness, (where hackers are concerned), is proportionate to the level of Dolphins present. The fewer dolphins you have the cooler the hacker movie. Simple. If you think Ace Ventura is an exception it is not. There was only one scene remotely hacker-related and it was short, very short. A simple internet search before there were really search engines to find out about the billionaire owner of The Dolphins. Nothing more. Exception disproved Hackers and Dolphins, as evidenced by the 1995 Keanu Reeves movies, cannot co-exist in the same movie. The movie “Hackers” had no dolphins, and therefore, it was much more accurate portrayal of the hacking subculture (though not a completely accurate "document". The only pods that belong in a hacker movie are the ones with an “i” in front of it. You know what was good about The Matrix? No dolphins. Mechanical octopi, yes, but not dolphins. Chrome octopi in a gun-metal blue world work. Had the sentinels been dolphins the movie would have flooped. I rest my case." The attorney returns to his seat while his client looks at him dumbfounded. "I think are chances are good."

"I think I'm screwed."

Suddenly The Judge says, “That was the most irrelevant closing statement I have ever heard, and I’ve been presiding over this bench for twenty-seven years. I am personally going to make it my personal mission to see to it that you\ are severally reprimanded for this by The Ethics Committee. In my opinion, anything less than total disbarment, would be unsatisfactory.” He slams on the gavel. A few hours later the jury returns to give it's decision. “How do you find the defendant?” asks The Judge.
“We find the defendant incredibly guilty. In fact, it only took us a couple of minutes to cast our unanimous decision. The next few hours of deliberation were spent trying to figure out what toppings we wanted on our pizzas.”
"Ouch," said the defendant, "uber ouch."
His attorney, trying to console him says, "Well what else can you expect from a jury full of dolphins."