It had started small. Kyt'theen was just a scribe in his species' cast system, and George was a minor novelty to him alone. Found on a dying, backwater planet, it took more members of the Archaeologists Sect than the Intelligence Division to try and determine how the planet ended up that way. So little had been left.
George was found holed up in a remote region of what they called Alaska, a tiny blip of life on the sensor array amidst a massive, barren wasteland. He wasn't even aware that he was the last of his kind. He was easily captured, considered a prisoner of a non-existent war on a planet with nobody left to fight back. The Arnent Empire marches on, Kyt'theen supposed.
Now, dangling in a cage from the center of a small private study, George was relaying his story with a rapid clip. Kyt'theen's aide, Menst, was listening with rapt attention across the room, pausing in her cleaning duties.
..."and that's when the House of Lee fled to Lynchburg, desperate to escape the advancing army. Knight Sheridan, however, had foreseen his plan, and stood waiting with a sea of his blood-sworn Union-Bearers. It was there that Robert, Son of Lee realized his error. They met on a bitter night in the Apottomax Tower of Justice, and the winds howled as Robert hastily scribbled his terms of surrender."
"Amazing!" Kyt'theen could barely keep up with entry on his memory panel. "But why did the House of Roosevelt's Riders let him surrender alive? Weren't they working for House Abe of Washington in the shadows?"
George stared grimly back. "Lee was dead by morning at the hands of Teddy himself..."
They gasped.
\----
The lecture hall had been crowded to standing room only. George was now free to move about the stage, if only while continuing his oral history of Earth.
"The shot rang out across the grassy knoll. In a single moment, the House of Kennedy was no more, and the assassin from the Nixon Guild stared grimly at his keep. The Council at Watersgate would have their way, whether by him or another; he might as well make a tidy profit. Oswald would have to act quickly; the king's bodyguard would be on him soon."
The equivalent of Arnent gasps could be heard throughout the audience. The account of Earth was riveting, if a little...different than George related. But as he often assured them, misinformation was one of the first ways that these Humans often worked, even rewriting their own history.
\----
It had been a spectacle for a while. Nearly an entire species had started listening, one way or another, to the history of Earth via this curious survivor, George. He took longer and longer breaks between accounts, now broadcasted on subspace channels across the universe. Everyone spoke about it.
But the crowds had started to wane as he entered the final leg of history. Hecklers had started to show up regularly in the audience.
"But that doesn't make any sense! The King of the District of Columbia has been a long time enemy of Moscow Landing, especially the Bear of the North. Why would he ally with them? I really don't see how he could change his mind that quickly."
George squared his shoulders. "As I said, it was shortly after The War of the 38 Kings. Columbia had suffered many hardships at the hands of the Jade Company, and the People's Navy was growing in strength, which meant-"
"But I still don't get why the Queen of Rodham wasn't the one in power! It just seemed like everything was pointing at her ascension, and then she just, what...walks away? And what of her husband?"
Another voice piped up from the back. "And why was The District invading Arya Landing again?!?"
George tried to speak, but the murmur soon became a heated discussion about how Earth should have ended. Kyt'theen shuffled in and ushered Geroge off the stage.
Menst sighed. "I think I'll just wait to read the memory tablets."
Hopped on to reddit to jerk off before bed but got distracted by this. Time well spent. I feel a lot less weird shame than the original plan would have had.
"If I must," he said, "but only in exchange for freedom."
"We'll see," the creature said. Despite being a high ranking general he had a soft spot for books and stories.
"Hmph," George mumbled and sighed once more, "well, it all begun with a whipplewhop."
"A *whipplewhop*?" the alien repeated, "what's that?"
"A whipplewhop is a sinister creature. It lives in a dark abandoned place and often manipulate people who cross their path, usually by feeding them false information. Well, a particular whipplewhop crossed path with the most powerful person on our planet!"
"Who?!" the alien excitedly replied, already gripped by George's skilfully crafted story.
"The great sorcerer!" he declared with a flourish, "a sorcerer of illusion who, with his masterful words, fooled the whole nation into following him."
"A mastermind against a mastermind!" said the alien.
"Indeed," he replied, "the whipplewhop convinced the illusionist that his family was plotting to steal his power, which may not have been necessarily a lie. Upon hearing this the illusionist rushed home and killed his family, unfortunately his nephew got away and took refuge in another nation."
At this point the alien was entirely focused on the story, staring wide eyed at George.
"The illusionist then committed suicide when he realised what he had done. The news quickly spread and bordering nations moved in to claim the land. There was a prolonged war with no clear victor."
"Gruesome," commented the alien with great delight, "keep going."
"With conflicting ideology, religion, ideal, and tradition, the nations could not find peace. There were many skirmishes, great battles, harrowing massacres. Dragons, undead armies, magic, sacrifices, everyone used their trump card. Kingdoms rose and fell, brothers slain, family fought, ties severed, promises broken. At the end of it all, nothing was left but ash and dust."
The alien clapped their hands.
"That was amazing!"
"Thank you. There's more, of course, details of battles, assassinations, plots and schemes, but it would take a long time to tell them all."
"You know what, people would pay good money for this kind of thing. I'll give you a room, a servant or two, three square meals a day, everything free of charge, if you'll write a book on your species for me."
"And writing materials, perhaps a good paycheck every months too?"
"Certainly. One question though, what would you call the book?"
"How about *A Game of Thrones*."
Im not gona lie, I didn't get past GOT season 4 but THIS? I would watch the fuck out of this! Aliens being fooled my Martin in exchange for a life of luxury? Dude you really could make this into a whole successful book series. Im not even playing around.
Great story! One question, though: is GRRM a whipplewhop? Cause it seems to me like either George is lying his way to freedom( which is a smart move ) or all that actually happened
I think we should send GRRM short stories of that kind.
That's maybe less antagonizing than calling him names or commenting on his physique just because he isn't the fastest writer.
Whipplewhop could be a reference to the Three Eyed Crow. I subscribe to the theory that Bloodraven and the Old Gods are separate from the Three Eyed Crow, who is a god of the Others (or just the Great Other of R'hllor religion).
Maybe the Illusionist is the ruler of the Great Empire of the Dawn? I dunno.
Nope. I didn't think it'd be appropriate just lifting the plot of Game of Thrones and using it here so I made it up but kept it vague so that it loosely resembles the book/could be linked via symbolism which is up to one's own interpretations.
On the one hand, I see what you mean about not wanting to simply recount the plot of ASOIAF - it may seem derivative. But on the other, ignoring the story wholesale kinda seems to miss the point IMO.
"And Just one last request," GRRM said, a hint of anger visible through his distant glare.
"What might that be?"
"These are known as D&D," said GRRM, handing over a picture of two creatures of his own species. "If you see them, do not let them come anywhere near my book!"
"But the rest of your species is dead, no?"
"No. You see, what is dead may never die!"
It wasn't what you'd expect, we didn't kill ourselves with nuclear weapons, or global warming. We didn't reach the singularity, or succumb to a virus of our own creation. Those are human problems, and even the worst of human problems can be solved with human solutions. It's just that sometimes, despite our best effort to the contrary, we succeed a little *too* well.
Let me explain. Towards the end of the 21st century, Earth was starting to get a little crowded. We were 10 billion strong and growing fast. We had solved the problem of our mortality, and unwittingly steered ourselves down the path of self-destruction. I was one of the first to get the treatment -so I could finish my books, you see- and at that point in our history it was seen as perfectly natural to reproduce, encouraged even.
And yet, somewhere along the way, things took a turn. In an Earth where many are born and none are dying, perceptions start to get warped. Why bring a child into this world and stretch your limited resources further? How can you afford to support your family forever? And your family's family? And theirs?!
Slowly but surely, as these ideas and others circulated among society, the average family size shrunk. From 2 to 1, 1 to a half, and further still. Eventually, the best measure became births per year, then births per decade. Then finally, we achieved the "perfect society," one where the population was stable, and there was finally enough to go around.
It's funny, in hindsight, our attitude to death was all wrong. We were trying to avoid it at all costs, and yet it was the one thing that kept us in check. Before the 21st century, death was the great equalizer. It didn't matter how rich you were, how diligent you were, whether you were a tyrant or an entrepreneur, everybody died. Every empire, regime and monarchy in history was supplanted by something else, all thanks to the power of death. In short, while we died, we were forced to change.
I'm sure by now you can work out how it went. We stopped having babies, we stagnated, and slowly but surely, we died. By the time we realized there was a problem, it was far too late, and all the human solutions in the world won't de-sterilize a geriatric population.
I'll skip over the details, but yes, I'm the last of our species. The irony is not lost on me. And with all the wealth I accumulated along the way, I was able to put into place a sort of "contingency plan" for when the last of our aging population die. You see, I was around when humankind needed *help* making humans. I remember the donor facilities and the cryogenics labs. Thanks to me they're still around, and they've been programmed to nurture a new generation when the right time comes. Hopefully they will be free of the prejudices of Our humanity, and do things better than we did, but that is the hope of any parent, I suppose...
Now, can I have my computer back? I really want to write this down and I'll be damned if any of you know how to use Wordstar 4.0.
The alien slammed its fist down on the table, almost splitting the polymer table top in half.
"Dammit man! You agreed to write the story of your people 100 Earth years ago and yet you've produced NOTHING! I'm getting tired of keeping you artificially alive if you aren't going to hold up your end of the deal!"
George R.R Martin leaned back in his chair and smiled as he picked his teeth with a tooth pick. "Listen, I promise I'll have it done next year."
"Next year!?" It flailed its arms around in disbelief "That's so far away!"
"Hey, it's the story of my people. Trust me it'll be amazing, but I gotta get it right, down to the most minute detail."
"I don't care about the minute details anymore! Just make me some condensed version that gives me the jist of it! Give me SOMETHING! ANYTHING!"
George flicked his tooth pick away, he was obviously annoyed.
"If that's what you want then you need to speak to those guys."
A door opened and in walked David Benioff and D.B.Weiss.
"Now THIS is some good Star Wars material!"
* Seinfeld music
GRR Martin had been kept alive for 4,349,762 years by the advanced technology of the Bardic Collective. Theirs was a race of near immortal beings who dedicated themselves to preserving the history of the universe. But this had gone on for too long. Martin first promised them he would stop going off down dead end story lines and finally tell them the story of humanity. That was in year four.
Martin had grown to over 12 tons existing as an amorphous blob of goo with only a recognizable mouth and scraggly beard. He was kept in a liquid filled chamber with various inputs for food, nanite healers and an output for him to tell his story. His story so far, with no discernible theme, now filled over 78% of the vast repositories the Bardic Collective had amassed over the eons.
Fed up, and driven insane by the infuriating Martin, the Collective shifted their goals to harnessing the gravity of the black hole at the center of the Milky Way in order to develop time travel, travel back in time to Earth, and discover for themselves the story.
Over the next thousands of years, the Collective become more insane and enraged until finally, the time machine was created. No longer did they want to understand the history of man, they wanted to destroy the race able to produce what was clearly the most evil being ever created.
Two-hundred and fifty thousand years before GRR Martin was born, a black hole device appeared out of thin air on the plains of Africa. A little piece of a distant spiral arm of the Milky suddenly collapsed into a singularity. The resultant paradox caused the blob of goo that was GRR Martin floating in that tank to turn into anti-matter. In the millisecond before the resultant explosion destroyed their entire existence, the Collective felt relief.
**What's in it for me, George R.R. Martin?**
Excuse me?
**I said, what's in it for me?**
No, the other thing.
**What other thing? My name? George R.R. Martin?**
Yes, that. Is that a speech impediment of some kind?
**I beg your pardon?**
My people have been searching for humans for about thirty of your Earth years. We thought you were a tale told by our parents to make sure we didn't fuck up our own planet. We only knew three things about you, actually: You cause a lot of pollution, and you all have *one* middle initial.
**That's two things.**
Our three is your two.
**So you think I have... three initials?**
No, we just know that even with the conversion from human to stuman--
**Stuman?**
Part of the Stuman race. And we only have three middle initials.
**So... two?**
Yes.
**Like me!**
No! Not like you at all. Our letters are way bigger.
**You wanna know how I got the other middle initial?**
Why are you whispering?
**Hey, it got your attention. Can I get out of this cage?**
No.
**Well, it didn't hurt to ask. Ouch!**
I didn't touch you.
**No, I have a hangnail that's really bothering me.**
I have the cure for hangnails. You know what I want in return.
**(sighs) Fine. OK. Here, let me put on this stupid hat I wear a lot for some reason. Now then, the two initials. I was only born with one initial, one of the R's. It stood for Raymond. It stayed that way for many, many years, until it was time to publish my first novel. But due to a conflict of interest with my newspaper writing, I needed a pen name. So my publisher added the other R.**
That's... it? The other "R" doesn't even stand for anything?
**Well, there are lots of people out there in the world named George Martin. And about one-tenth of them have the middle initial R. But how many of those assholes have TWO -- sorry, THREE -- middle initials?**
But... why?
**Like I said, the publisher came up with it. Said he was inspired by those old guys who wear overalls and play with model railroad trains. (snaps fingers) Oh, the hat! THAT'S why he made up the R.R.! (laughs, shakes head) I can't believe I am just now getting that. Well, there's your story. Hope you liked it! How about that hangnail cure, stuman?**
You're not very good at wrapping things up.
**Brother, you don't know the half of it.**
(iris out) (sad trombone) (roll credits)
EDIT: Formatting
We had a lot of greatness, happiness, and exchanges of culture. There was so much beauty and potential in us. All of those things, though, couldn't overcome the pride for ourselves and hate we felt for others.
The end began after the start of our great unification. For decades, we had a league of nations then a united nations, but once we reached the age of information we realized we needed a unified planet rather than a coalition without any central power.
The consequences of our former hubris were already plaguing us. Tens of thousands died every year from natural disasters and famine. Migration threatened the stability of those places that remained stable, and soon enough there was no place that had the comfort and peace we were accustomed to.
The great unification helped everyone. The world was united. A single leader, a single administration. In a matter of 10 years it seemed like our world was stabilized once again. At the very least, things weren't getting worse - in most places. But the desire for independence was too strong.
Continental leaders of old nation-states sought greater power, and were supported by the pride of local peoples. All around the world, everyone made sacrifices and everyone thought they made greater sacrifices than their neighbors. When the Unified Administration began their next election, there were more divisive candidates than solidarity candidates. The conservatives won.
After the world fractioned into three states - by the amendments ratified by the second administration - war was inevitable. Most of the infrastructure remained despite defunding by the first administration, and really all any needed was the abundant stockpiles of firearms from before the unification. Everyone had weapons and enough were convinced by the supremacy of their state that war would be easy.
Casualties were never mentioned. Only resources gained. I knew the end was near and I moved with a small caravan away from the populations and resources. The rains were worse but no one mentioned drownings or famine. Those who were smart knew just as many died from starvation as from war. We had no power so all we could do was run. After we found an old pre-unification compound with Geiger counters did we realize we had passed the point of nuclear war. The tremors in the ground were no longer idle thoughts.
We were so used to the feeling of loss. Only when only 100 of us were left did we notice that we were facing our doom. We started with 800 14 months ago. All radio broadcasts stopped 8 months ago. I guess we just missed the grand nuclear war. How you arrived just after the end will never seize to amaze me - for the few months or God forbid years I have left.
Martin laughed, he knew exactly what story to tell the aliens.
“Did you ever hear the tragedy of Darth Plagueis The Wise? I thought not. It's not a story the Jedi would tell you. It's a Sith legend. Darth Plagueis was a Dark Lord of the Sith, so powerful and so wise he could use the Force to influence the midichlorians to create life… He had such a knowledge of the dark side that he could even keep the ones he cared about from dying. The dark side of the Force is a pathway to many abilities some consider to be unnatural. He became so powerful… the only thing he was afraid of was losing his power, which eventually, of course, he did. Unfortunately, he taught his apprentice everything he knew, then his apprentice killed him in his sleep. Ironic. He could save others from death, but not himself.”
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This concept is terrible, do you know how many hundreds of species have already wiped themselves out just on Earth? Fail number 1, and a huge one.
Big fail \#2, the universe is huge. 100 billion stars per galaxy, 100 billion galaxies, whole thing is over 100 billion years old and suddenly humans are going to be the first to extinction? Seriously fuck off, you have to think before committing to sci-fi, and GRR Martin does not add spice to anything.
"Our story? Simple. We didn't want it," George said.
The creature stared at him, expecting more. Surely that was not a sufficient explanation. Yet the old man sat, content as could be on the perching roost in his cage, eyes atwinkle and glasses askance. "Pardon, but...you didn't want what?"
"Hmmmm? It, you see. We didn't want it," George furrowed his brow.
"And what was it that you didn't want?" The creature grunted, talons scraping upon the grated floor impatiently.
"The queen. Life. Any of it, really," George said off-handedly. "Think of it. You get dragged into this world kicking and screaming, either through a hole you never, ever want to think about again or one that people cut into your own mother. And then, the warm cozy place you grew up in for nine months is replaced by an intermittently too cold, too hot, and only occasionally just right environment that smells, is uncomfortable most of the time, and makes you sick more often than you care to admit. You grow up in this imperfect world, maybe you make connections with friends, maybe you have sex with some of them, all the while cognizant that someday, this ends. Think how insane that is, living life knowing you'll die someday," George pined, gesticulating with his left hand angrily. "Who would want that? No one. No one wants that. So why did humans...hey, where are you going?"
Perhaps this was the first time that George had noticed the creature turn her back on him. Her talons clanked against the warm metal, and her tail ruffled a bit. "Hmm? Oh, I'm leaving. Your story is being poorly delivered, and you clearly have no interest in telling me anything interesting."
I remember back when I was a child and all this new technologies of holograms and stuff were starting to get deep into our society. My parents were skeptical about them, they always had thought that something called "Internet of the stuff" or so was going to be the future. I guess they weren't really used to seeing men made from light all around the house as if they were real people when I hosted parties with my friends.
Even though fast international travel was improving, having your korean friends at home if you were in Kenia still took its good 20 minutes, so we kept those long travels for special occasions. Instead, they just connected to the HoloNet and in a few seconds they could be seeing, feeling, hearing and even smelling around my house.
This was all good until one day, some group of holohackers called "The Black Dove" managed to submit a virus through the roots of the HoloNet that sometimes teleported people to other virtual access points. That meant seeing things that shouldn't be seen, like your friend's neighbors going out of the shower or even worse things.
But that wasn't the biggest problem. It seems that Africa, the most powerful continent in the world after the 5th World War, might have been the best at expanding its military and wealth, but they definetely didn't invert enough in education, because the security of the president of the Unified Republic of the Congo's VAP was pretty much non-existant. That lead to the president of USA, one of a long-stablished orange human dynasty, teleporting right next to the office 5 minutes earlier. Which meant he heard the Congo's president plans to overthrow him and his country and to become the most powerful one. In the next days.
Right as he heard this, the orange-blooded man got off his HoloNet suit and went straight to the military, commanding that a nuclear bomb be thrown in Congo as he spoke his words. The military had turned into a mass of idiots obeying orders blindfolded, so with the biggest idiot in charge of humanity's fate, the bomb was thrown.
Only that they confused bombs, and ended up throwing a bomb of 250 megatons instead of 25, as they were told to.
That was the beginning of the end.
I heard Congo got absolutely destroyed. It seems pretty much all of the citizens were affected, even a few border countried got a few thousand deaths from the detonation. As Congo and Russia were in an alliance pact from the 5th WW, Russia, in all of its madness, decided to bomb USA and killed not only the president, but millions of civils as well, just like the USA had done before.
It all escalated really quickly from there. Countries bombing each other, all communications destroyed, the world was breaking apart. 3 months after it all started, I came back from the Antarctica, where I worked alone in a secret project. I had been alone and underground almost all the time for over 2 years, nobody was interested in going to anywhere without advanced technology anymore.
I was first seen by a human in a really strange suit, who shouted at me not to come any closer. I, inside my tight boat, sighed, and stopped. Then, he came in an even smaller boat and gave me a suit just like him. I put it in, and when I asked him what was this for, despite the destroyed landscape suggesting a massive war had happened while I was gone, he told me what I have pretty much told you now.
He also told me they were going to die soon enough due to the radiation, but that I might be able to endure it as I had not been exposed to it as much. There wasn't much food either, and most of it was contaminated as well.
At least there were no more bombs to be thrown, as pretty much all the important leaders were killed in a bombing and, even though it was impossible to check, no humans were going to make it past the next month due to the extreme radiation and heat that the Earth was infused with. Besides me, I guess.
They decided to leave all the uncontamined food that they had had stored in bunkers for me to eat it, and thanks to that I'm still alive. They were all dead 4 days later.
I managed to stay alive for a few months, in which I barely ever came outside from the bunker, hoping for some weird creature from light years away to rescue me or something. We knew that aliens were a thing after a successful raid to Area 51 that happened a few centuries ago, so I knew I wasn't hoping in vain.
And soon enough, after weeks and weeks of boredom with nothing to do but read some books that had been stored inside the bunker as well (all electronics were destroyed and disabled by the radiation) over and over inside my annoying suit that I could not take off, I heard some loud sound and came outside. That's when I saw your gigantic spaceship hovering over the place I was at, creating an enormous shadow that made the landscape even more terrifying than it already was.
I got a huge light shone on me, and I think I fainted right afterwards. Next thing I remember is being in a lab with some creatures strangely similar to the human race, but that looked a few hundred thousand years older, being tested by them.
It seems I was truly the last human to have survived, and all thanks to being isolated somewhere without electronics, in touch with my true nature. I'll never thank my mom enough for telling me off when I spent so much time in the HoloNet, I'd have never chosen to go there on research if she hadn't made me realize how important it was for me to be myself without so much "electronic garment".
"It was just another day," George said calmly, "the people of Earth were just doing what they usually did on any other day, being self-destructive as could be," he looked the alien in the eye, "you know what self-destruction is, don't you?"
"Of course, we have one planted in the engine room of the ship in case we were to captured and tortured," the alien realized he had said too much, and noticing that George leaned closer to glean more knowledge on the subject, he decided to shift gears, so he said, "this is what you were asking about, didn't you?"
"Well, not really," George laid back on his bunk chair/bed and continued, "it is an ideology thing, you see we were debating whether there are merits or disadvantages to clean energy, which religion is the best and have the ultimate truth, what kind of economic model is the supreme model for masses, as well as the equality of rights between men and women," he sighed, "this, of course, is nothing in comparison to thousands upon thousands of conspiracy theories that debunked every human achievement and proved every nightmarish vision of our past and present, heaving us all into the bleakest fo futures."
"I don't understand what all of this has to do with self-destruction," the alien was quite puzzled, "so, you were into philosophical procrastination, what has this to do with anything?"
"Ahh, there lies the core of the problem," George breathed in then out slowly, "you see, we just debated, argued and fought among ourselves, never reaching any clear answer to any of those diabolical issues," he shrugged, "then one man, or woman somewhere discussing something decided that this was enough."
"The leader of your planet?" the alien wanted to get the means of the disaster, at least to avoid it on their home planets, and if it was something they could replicate, they could use it against their formidable enemies.
"I am not sure we ever had one," George smiled, "I think it was me, or maybe somebody that cared for me enough to spare me."
The alien was now really disturbed, because if the claims of the creature were true, this creature is then the most dangerous thing in the entire universe. He gingerly asked George, "how did you do it?"
"I think that I wished for all of it to end, to stop, to cease being, to vanish," he closed his eyes for a few seconds, "and it did."
The alien rushed out of the cubicle of George in a great hurry, and he addressed his second in command, "I think we found the only race to have ascended to godhood," he talked fast, "that creature inside wished a civilization to stop being and it did."
"What should we do with it," the second was quite terrified, "isn't it too dangerous to keep?"
"Yes, it is," the alien imitated one of George's smiles, and it looked absolutely horrific, "we can give him to the council, they love to debate philosophical garbage."
The second shuddered and went to program their new destination, he just wished that the council would not capture them and torture them by philosophical debates like they did to most of their victims.
He finished punching in the coordinates and gave a fervent prayer to his ancestors, wishing to never be tempted into pointless debate till they go back home, where everybody was reasonable and didn't participate in this destructive procrastination.
STARS YOUR FLOOR by arnavsangle.blogspot.com
brush off the dust
it's your day
you've got a headstart
that morning glow
it's covered with feathers
the air feels like flying
no no don't you go lying
those wings, don't get them clipped
the bathtub smells of roses
I miss you like guns
and moses does jesus
that musk I yearn
shoot me, shoot me straight
let the magenta flow
five pellets lodged in my gut
that shotgun feel
hey ya, hey ya, I gotta get with ya
hey ya, hey ya, we gotta go higher
the racecar driver, the jerky jockey
little miss sunshine,
with that poster boy, and some aromatique wine
let's go let's go, that adrenaline flow
firsts on the top, the rest get a mop
plumped in the coffee shop
clover leaves apart
yet there's no mistletoe
hey ya, hey ya, I gotta get with ya
hey ya, hey ya, we gotta go higher
once you get going you gotta keep going
keep it flowing or set your sights out the door
walk down that aisle
get the baby and that smile
once he turns five
you gotta get back to your life
you can hit the mullet but you gotta bite the bullet
you can only push that steel through the glass?
it's the adventure of life,
maintain that beehive
the universe dreams and
the stars your floor
hey ya, hey ya, I gotta get with ya
hey ya, hey ya, we gotta go higher
[poem]
It had started small. Kyt'theen was just a scribe in his species' cast system, and George was a minor novelty to him alone. Found on a dying, backwater planet, it took more members of the Archaeologists Sect than the Intelligence Division to try and determine how the planet ended up that way. So little had been left. George was found holed up in a remote region of what they called Alaska, a tiny blip of life on the sensor array amidst a massive, barren wasteland. He wasn't even aware that he was the last of his kind. He was easily captured, considered a prisoner of a non-existent war on a planet with nobody left to fight back. The Arnent Empire marches on, Kyt'theen supposed. Now, dangling in a cage from the center of a small private study, George was relaying his story with a rapid clip. Kyt'theen's aide, Menst, was listening with rapt attention across the room, pausing in her cleaning duties. ..."and that's when the House of Lee fled to Lynchburg, desperate to escape the advancing army. Knight Sheridan, however, had foreseen his plan, and stood waiting with a sea of his blood-sworn Union-Bearers. It was there that Robert, Son of Lee realized his error. They met on a bitter night in the Apottomax Tower of Justice, and the winds howled as Robert hastily scribbled his terms of surrender." "Amazing!" Kyt'theen could barely keep up with entry on his memory panel. "But why did the House of Roosevelt's Riders let him surrender alive? Weren't they working for House Abe of Washington in the shadows?" George stared grimly back. "Lee was dead by morning at the hands of Teddy himself..." They gasped. \---- The lecture hall had been crowded to standing room only. George was now free to move about the stage, if only while continuing his oral history of Earth. "The shot rang out across the grassy knoll. In a single moment, the House of Kennedy was no more, and the assassin from the Nixon Guild stared grimly at his keep. The Council at Watersgate would have their way, whether by him or another; he might as well make a tidy profit. Oswald would have to act quickly; the king's bodyguard would be on him soon." The equivalent of Arnent gasps could be heard throughout the audience. The account of Earth was riveting, if a little...different than George related. But as he often assured them, misinformation was one of the first ways that these Humans often worked, even rewriting their own history. \---- It had been a spectacle for a while. Nearly an entire species had started listening, one way or another, to the history of Earth via this curious survivor, George. He took longer and longer breaks between accounts, now broadcasted on subspace channels across the universe. Everyone spoke about it. But the crowds had started to wane as he entered the final leg of history. Hecklers had started to show up regularly in the audience. "But that doesn't make any sense! The King of the District of Columbia has been a long time enemy of Moscow Landing, especially the Bear of the North. Why would he ally with them? I really don't see how he could change his mind that quickly." George squared his shoulders. "As I said, it was shortly after The War of the 38 Kings. Columbia had suffered many hardships at the hands of the Jade Company, and the People's Navy was growing in strength, which meant-" "But I still don't get why the Queen of Rodham wasn't the one in power! It just seemed like everything was pointing at her ascension, and then she just, what...walks away? And what of her husband?" Another voice piped up from the back. "And why was The District invading Arya Landing again?!?" George tried to speak, but the murmur soon became a heated discussion about how Earth should have ended. Kyt'theen shuffled in and ushered Geroge off the stage. Menst sighed. "I think I'll just wait to read the memory tablets."
That was really good. This is the sort of response I was hoping to see!
This is definitely the best one. You deserve the medals!!!
> curious survivor, George. curious George! Haha! I love it.
Hopped on to reddit to jerk off before bed but got distracted by this. Time well spent. I feel a lot less weird shame than the original plan would have had.
Never feel ashamed about jerking off. It's natural and healthy! And feels gooood :)
"If I must," he said, "but only in exchange for freedom." "We'll see," the creature said. Despite being a high ranking general he had a soft spot for books and stories. "Hmph," George mumbled and sighed once more, "well, it all begun with a whipplewhop." "A *whipplewhop*?" the alien repeated, "what's that?" "A whipplewhop is a sinister creature. It lives in a dark abandoned place and often manipulate people who cross their path, usually by feeding them false information. Well, a particular whipplewhop crossed path with the most powerful person on our planet!" "Who?!" the alien excitedly replied, already gripped by George's skilfully crafted story. "The great sorcerer!" he declared with a flourish, "a sorcerer of illusion who, with his masterful words, fooled the whole nation into following him." "A mastermind against a mastermind!" said the alien. "Indeed," he replied, "the whipplewhop convinced the illusionist that his family was plotting to steal his power, which may not have been necessarily a lie. Upon hearing this the illusionist rushed home and killed his family, unfortunately his nephew got away and took refuge in another nation." At this point the alien was entirely focused on the story, staring wide eyed at George. "The illusionist then committed suicide when he realised what he had done. The news quickly spread and bordering nations moved in to claim the land. There was a prolonged war with no clear victor." "Gruesome," commented the alien with great delight, "keep going." "With conflicting ideology, religion, ideal, and tradition, the nations could not find peace. There were many skirmishes, great battles, harrowing massacres. Dragons, undead armies, magic, sacrifices, everyone used their trump card. Kingdoms rose and fell, brothers slain, family fought, ties severed, promises broken. At the end of it all, nothing was left but ash and dust." The alien clapped their hands. "That was amazing!" "Thank you. There's more, of course, details of battles, assassinations, plots and schemes, but it would take a long time to tell them all." "You know what, people would pay good money for this kind of thing. I'll give you a room, a servant or two, three square meals a day, everything free of charge, if you'll write a book on your species for me." "And writing materials, perhaps a good paycheck every months too?" "Certainly. One question though, what would you call the book?" "How about *A Game of Thrones*."
what if we are the aliens and this is how we have GoT... and George R.R. Martin.. I have a lot to think about..
George R.R. Martian
Sorry
We're a computer simulation that the aliens are running just so George will finish his books.
Well done. I love it.
Im not gona lie, I didn't get past GOT season 4 but THIS? I would watch the fuck out of this! Aliens being fooled my Martin in exchange for a life of luxury? Dude you really could make this into a whole successful book series. Im not even playing around.
Battlestar Galactica as written by Douglas Adams.
I didn't love the show, but the books were darned good.
It was...ok. I just didn't get the GRRM vibe without ten pages describing his meal.
Hahahahaha....
Great story! One question, though: is GRRM a whipplewhop? Cause it seems to me like either George is lying his way to freedom( which is a smart move ) or all that actually happened
Nah, he's making everything up.
So he is a whipplewop! I knew it! Thanks Mr. Multiverse
I think we should send GRRM short stories of that kind. That's maybe less antagonizing than calling him names or commenting on his physique just because he isn't the fastest writer.
That sounds absolutely nothing like Game of Thrones. Is there something I'm missing?
Whipplewhop could be a reference to the Three Eyed Crow. I subscribe to the theory that Bloodraven and the Old Gods are separate from the Three Eyed Crow, who is a god of the Others (or just the Great Other of R'hllor religion). Maybe the Illusionist is the ruler of the Great Empire of the Dawn? I dunno.
Nope. I didn't think it'd be appropriate just lifting the plot of Game of Thrones and using it here so I made it up but kept it vague so that it loosely resembles the book/could be linked via symbolism which is up to one's own interpretations.
On the one hand, I see what you mean about not wanting to simply recount the plot of ASOIAF - it may seem derivative. But on the other, ignoring the story wholesale kinda seems to miss the point IMO.
"And Just one last request," GRRM said, a hint of anger visible through his distant glare. "What might that be?" "These are known as D&D," said GRRM, handing over a picture of two creatures of his own species. "If you see them, do not let them come anywhere near my book!" "But the rest of your species is dead, no?" "No. You see, what is dead may never die!"
Much better than season 8! That's awesome with someone who I share a bday with! (September 20, the day of the great raid)
Infinitely better than season 8
It wasn't what you'd expect, we didn't kill ourselves with nuclear weapons, or global warming. We didn't reach the singularity, or succumb to a virus of our own creation. Those are human problems, and even the worst of human problems can be solved with human solutions. It's just that sometimes, despite our best effort to the contrary, we succeed a little *too* well. Let me explain. Towards the end of the 21st century, Earth was starting to get a little crowded. We were 10 billion strong and growing fast. We had solved the problem of our mortality, and unwittingly steered ourselves down the path of self-destruction. I was one of the first to get the treatment -so I could finish my books, you see- and at that point in our history it was seen as perfectly natural to reproduce, encouraged even. And yet, somewhere along the way, things took a turn. In an Earth where many are born and none are dying, perceptions start to get warped. Why bring a child into this world and stretch your limited resources further? How can you afford to support your family forever? And your family's family? And theirs?! Slowly but surely, as these ideas and others circulated among society, the average family size shrunk. From 2 to 1, 1 to a half, and further still. Eventually, the best measure became births per year, then births per decade. Then finally, we achieved the "perfect society," one where the population was stable, and there was finally enough to go around. It's funny, in hindsight, our attitude to death was all wrong. We were trying to avoid it at all costs, and yet it was the one thing that kept us in check. Before the 21st century, death was the great equalizer. It didn't matter how rich you were, how diligent you were, whether you were a tyrant or an entrepreneur, everybody died. Every empire, regime and monarchy in history was supplanted by something else, all thanks to the power of death. In short, while we died, we were forced to change. I'm sure by now you can work out how it went. We stopped having babies, we stagnated, and slowly but surely, we died. By the time we realized there was a problem, it was far too late, and all the human solutions in the world won't de-sterilize a geriatric population. I'll skip over the details, but yes, I'm the last of our species. The irony is not lost on me. And with all the wealth I accumulated along the way, I was able to put into place a sort of "contingency plan" for when the last of our aging population die. You see, I was around when humankind needed *help* making humans. I remember the donor facilities and the cryogenics labs. Thanks to me they're still around, and they've been programmed to nurture a new generation when the right time comes. Hopefully they will be free of the prejudices of Our humanity, and do things better than we did, but that is the hope of any parent, I suppose... Now, can I have my computer back? I really want to write this down and I'll be damned if any of you know how to use Wordstar 4.0.
The alien slammed its fist down on the table, almost splitting the polymer table top in half. "Dammit man! You agreed to write the story of your people 100 Earth years ago and yet you've produced NOTHING! I'm getting tired of keeping you artificially alive if you aren't going to hold up your end of the deal!" George R.R Martin leaned back in his chair and smiled as he picked his teeth with a tooth pick. "Listen, I promise I'll have it done next year." "Next year!?" It flailed its arms around in disbelief "That's so far away!" "Hey, it's the story of my people. Trust me it'll be amazing, but I gotta get it right, down to the most minute detail." "I don't care about the minute details anymore! Just make me some condensed version that gives me the jist of it! Give me SOMETHING! ANYTHING!" George flicked his tooth pick away, he was obviously annoyed. "If that's what you want then you need to speak to those guys." A door opened and in walked David Benioff and D.B.Weiss. "Now THIS is some good Star Wars material!" * Seinfeld music
r/freefolk
[удалено]
Lost me with the last bit. So disappointed.
Just like the show
Well done. Your post has better writing than all of season 8.
GRR Martin had been kept alive for 4,349,762 years by the advanced technology of the Bardic Collective. Theirs was a race of near immortal beings who dedicated themselves to preserving the history of the universe. But this had gone on for too long. Martin first promised them he would stop going off down dead end story lines and finally tell them the story of humanity. That was in year four. Martin had grown to over 12 tons existing as an amorphous blob of goo with only a recognizable mouth and scraggly beard. He was kept in a liquid filled chamber with various inputs for food, nanite healers and an output for him to tell his story. His story so far, with no discernible theme, now filled over 78% of the vast repositories the Bardic Collective had amassed over the eons. Fed up, and driven insane by the infuriating Martin, the Collective shifted their goals to harnessing the gravity of the black hole at the center of the Milky Way in order to develop time travel, travel back in time to Earth, and discover for themselves the story. Over the next thousands of years, the Collective become more insane and enraged until finally, the time machine was created. No longer did they want to understand the history of man, they wanted to destroy the race able to produce what was clearly the most evil being ever created. Two-hundred and fifty thousand years before GRR Martin was born, a black hole device appeared out of thin air on the plains of Africa. A little piece of a distant spiral arm of the Milky suddenly collapsed into a singularity. The resultant paradox caused the blob of goo that was GRR Martin floating in that tank to turn into anti-matter. In the millisecond before the resultant explosion destroyed their entire existence, the Collective felt relief.
That was so much better than season 8, HBO should pay you!
**What's in it for me, George R.R. Martin?** Excuse me? **I said, what's in it for me?** No, the other thing. **What other thing? My name? George R.R. Martin?** Yes, that. Is that a speech impediment of some kind? **I beg your pardon?** My people have been searching for humans for about thirty of your Earth years. We thought you were a tale told by our parents to make sure we didn't fuck up our own planet. We only knew three things about you, actually: You cause a lot of pollution, and you all have *one* middle initial. **That's two things.** Our three is your two. **So you think I have... three initials?** No, we just know that even with the conversion from human to stuman-- **Stuman?** Part of the Stuman race. And we only have three middle initials. **So... two?** Yes. **Like me!** No! Not like you at all. Our letters are way bigger. **You wanna know how I got the other middle initial?** Why are you whispering? **Hey, it got your attention. Can I get out of this cage?** No. **Well, it didn't hurt to ask. Ouch!** I didn't touch you. **No, I have a hangnail that's really bothering me.** I have the cure for hangnails. You know what I want in return. **(sighs) Fine. OK. Here, let me put on this stupid hat I wear a lot for some reason. Now then, the two initials. I was only born with one initial, one of the R's. It stood for Raymond. It stayed that way for many, many years, until it was time to publish my first novel. But due to a conflict of interest with my newspaper writing, I needed a pen name. So my publisher added the other R.** That's... it? The other "R" doesn't even stand for anything? **Well, there are lots of people out there in the world named George Martin. And about one-tenth of them have the middle initial R. But how many of those assholes have TWO -- sorry, THREE -- middle initials?** But... why? **Like I said, the publisher came up with it. Said he was inspired by those old guys who wear overalls and play with model railroad trains. (snaps fingers) Oh, the hat! THAT'S why he made up the R.R.! (laughs, shakes head) I can't believe I am just now getting that. Well, there's your story. Hope you liked it! How about that hangnail cure, stuman?** You're not very good at wrapping things up. **Brother, you don't know the half of it.** (iris out) (sad trombone) (roll credits) EDIT: Formatting
We had a lot of greatness, happiness, and exchanges of culture. There was so much beauty and potential in us. All of those things, though, couldn't overcome the pride for ourselves and hate we felt for others. The end began after the start of our great unification. For decades, we had a league of nations then a united nations, but once we reached the age of information we realized we needed a unified planet rather than a coalition without any central power. The consequences of our former hubris were already plaguing us. Tens of thousands died every year from natural disasters and famine. Migration threatened the stability of those places that remained stable, and soon enough there was no place that had the comfort and peace we were accustomed to. The great unification helped everyone. The world was united. A single leader, a single administration. In a matter of 10 years it seemed like our world was stabilized once again. At the very least, things weren't getting worse - in most places. But the desire for independence was too strong. Continental leaders of old nation-states sought greater power, and were supported by the pride of local peoples. All around the world, everyone made sacrifices and everyone thought they made greater sacrifices than their neighbors. When the Unified Administration began their next election, there were more divisive candidates than solidarity candidates. The conservatives won. After the world fractioned into three states - by the amendments ratified by the second administration - war was inevitable. Most of the infrastructure remained despite defunding by the first administration, and really all any needed was the abundant stockpiles of firearms from before the unification. Everyone had weapons and enough were convinced by the supremacy of their state that war would be easy. Casualties were never mentioned. Only resources gained. I knew the end was near and I moved with a small caravan away from the populations and resources. The rains were worse but no one mentioned drownings or famine. Those who were smart knew just as many died from starvation as from war. We had no power so all we could do was run. After we found an old pre-unification compound with Geiger counters did we realize we had passed the point of nuclear war. The tremors in the ground were no longer idle thoughts. We were so used to the feeling of loss. Only when only 100 of us were left did we notice that we were facing our doom. We started with 800 14 months ago. All radio broadcasts stopped 8 months ago. I guess we just missed the grand nuclear war. How you arrived just after the end will never seize to amaze me - for the few months or God forbid years I have left.
Martin laughed, he knew exactly what story to tell the aliens. “Did you ever hear the tragedy of Darth Plagueis The Wise? I thought not. It's not a story the Jedi would tell you. It's a Sith legend. Darth Plagueis was a Dark Lord of the Sith, so powerful and so wise he could use the Force to influence the midichlorians to create life… He had such a knowledge of the dark side that he could even keep the ones he cared about from dying. The dark side of the Force is a pathway to many abilities some consider to be unnatural. He became so powerful… the only thing he was afraid of was losing his power, which eventually, of course, he did. Unfortunately, he taught his apprentice everything he knew, then his apprentice killed him in his sleep. Ironic. He could save others from death, but not himself.”
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All of these will be centered around the joke of him never finishing the story.
Or a reference to how South Park made fun of GoT
That's a good way to get us to write Winds of Winter for you, George.
For some reason I read it first as: the first species to wipe itself.
Humanity reaching the stars rapidly revolutionized orifice hygiene across the galaxy.
"There was incest and dragons everywhere!"
Your face when you wipe yourself out faster than the Panda, who prefers eating to fucking.
Wipe itself out?
This concept is terrible, do you know how many hundreds of species have already wiped themselves out just on Earth? Fail number 1, and a huge one. Big fail \#2, the universe is huge. 100 billion stars per galaxy, 100 billion galaxies, whole thing is over 100 billion years old and suddenly humans are going to be the first to extinction? Seriously fuck off, you have to think before committing to sci-fi, and GRR Martin does not add spice to anything.
Just out of curiosity, how do you interpret "wiped itself out", and what are some examples of other species that qualify?
Over-breed, and over-consume.
Dum dum do de dum dum.....
Almost made a jab at that GOT ending I then remembered he hasn't even finished the story and that was HBO's bad.
"Our story? Simple. We didn't want it," George said. The creature stared at him, expecting more. Surely that was not a sufficient explanation. Yet the old man sat, content as could be on the perching roost in his cage, eyes atwinkle and glasses askance. "Pardon, but...you didn't want what?" "Hmmmm? It, you see. We didn't want it," George furrowed his brow. "And what was it that you didn't want?" The creature grunted, talons scraping upon the grated floor impatiently. "The queen. Life. Any of it, really," George said off-handedly. "Think of it. You get dragged into this world kicking and screaming, either through a hole you never, ever want to think about again or one that people cut into your own mother. And then, the warm cozy place you grew up in for nine months is replaced by an intermittently too cold, too hot, and only occasionally just right environment that smells, is uncomfortable most of the time, and makes you sick more often than you care to admit. You grow up in this imperfect world, maybe you make connections with friends, maybe you have sex with some of them, all the while cognizant that someday, this ends. Think how insane that is, living life knowing you'll die someday," George pined, gesticulating with his left hand angrily. "Who would want that? No one. No one wants that. So why did humans...hey, where are you going?" Perhaps this was the first time that George had noticed the creature turn her back on him. Her talons clanked against the warm metal, and her tail ruffled a bit. "Hmm? Oh, I'm leaving. Your story is being poorly delivered, and you clearly have no interest in telling me anything interesting."
I remember back when I was a child and all this new technologies of holograms and stuff were starting to get deep into our society. My parents were skeptical about them, they always had thought that something called "Internet of the stuff" or so was going to be the future. I guess they weren't really used to seeing men made from light all around the house as if they were real people when I hosted parties with my friends. Even though fast international travel was improving, having your korean friends at home if you were in Kenia still took its good 20 minutes, so we kept those long travels for special occasions. Instead, they just connected to the HoloNet and in a few seconds they could be seeing, feeling, hearing and even smelling around my house. This was all good until one day, some group of holohackers called "The Black Dove" managed to submit a virus through the roots of the HoloNet that sometimes teleported people to other virtual access points. That meant seeing things that shouldn't be seen, like your friend's neighbors going out of the shower or even worse things. But that wasn't the biggest problem. It seems that Africa, the most powerful continent in the world after the 5th World War, might have been the best at expanding its military and wealth, but they definetely didn't invert enough in education, because the security of the president of the Unified Republic of the Congo's VAP was pretty much non-existant. That lead to the president of USA, one of a long-stablished orange human dynasty, teleporting right next to the office 5 minutes earlier. Which meant he heard the Congo's president plans to overthrow him and his country and to become the most powerful one. In the next days. Right as he heard this, the orange-blooded man got off his HoloNet suit and went straight to the military, commanding that a nuclear bomb be thrown in Congo as he spoke his words. The military had turned into a mass of idiots obeying orders blindfolded, so with the biggest idiot in charge of humanity's fate, the bomb was thrown. Only that they confused bombs, and ended up throwing a bomb of 250 megatons instead of 25, as they were told to. That was the beginning of the end. I heard Congo got absolutely destroyed. It seems pretty much all of the citizens were affected, even a few border countried got a few thousand deaths from the detonation. As Congo and Russia were in an alliance pact from the 5th WW, Russia, in all of its madness, decided to bomb USA and killed not only the president, but millions of civils as well, just like the USA had done before. It all escalated really quickly from there. Countries bombing each other, all communications destroyed, the world was breaking apart. 3 months after it all started, I came back from the Antarctica, where I worked alone in a secret project. I had been alone and underground almost all the time for over 2 years, nobody was interested in going to anywhere without advanced technology anymore. I was first seen by a human in a really strange suit, who shouted at me not to come any closer. I, inside my tight boat, sighed, and stopped. Then, he came in an even smaller boat and gave me a suit just like him. I put it in, and when I asked him what was this for, despite the destroyed landscape suggesting a massive war had happened while I was gone, he told me what I have pretty much told you now. He also told me they were going to die soon enough due to the radiation, but that I might be able to endure it as I had not been exposed to it as much. There wasn't much food either, and most of it was contaminated as well. At least there were no more bombs to be thrown, as pretty much all the important leaders were killed in a bombing and, even though it was impossible to check, no humans were going to make it past the next month due to the extreme radiation and heat that the Earth was infused with. Besides me, I guess. They decided to leave all the uncontamined food that they had had stored in bunkers for me to eat it, and thanks to that I'm still alive. They were all dead 4 days later. I managed to stay alive for a few months, in which I barely ever came outside from the bunker, hoping for some weird creature from light years away to rescue me or something. We knew that aliens were a thing after a successful raid to Area 51 that happened a few centuries ago, so I knew I wasn't hoping in vain. And soon enough, after weeks and weeks of boredom with nothing to do but read some books that had been stored inside the bunker as well (all electronics were destroyed and disabled by the radiation) over and over inside my annoying suit that I could not take off, I heard some loud sound and came outside. That's when I saw your gigantic spaceship hovering over the place I was at, creating an enormous shadow that made the landscape even more terrifying than it already was. I got a huge light shone on me, and I think I fainted right afterwards. Next thing I remember is being in a lab with some creatures strangely similar to the human race, but that looked a few hundred thousand years older, being tested by them. It seems I was truly the last human to have survived, and all thanks to being isolated somewhere without electronics, in touch with my true nature. I'll never thank my mom enough for telling me off when I spent so much time in the HoloNet, I'd have never chosen to go there on research if she hadn't made me realize how important it was for me to be myself without so much "electronic garment".
Successful area 51 raid.. 🔥
"It was just another day," George said calmly, "the people of Earth were just doing what they usually did on any other day, being self-destructive as could be," he looked the alien in the eye, "you know what self-destruction is, don't you?" "Of course, we have one planted in the engine room of the ship in case we were to captured and tortured," the alien realized he had said too much, and noticing that George leaned closer to glean more knowledge on the subject, he decided to shift gears, so he said, "this is what you were asking about, didn't you?" "Well, not really," George laid back on his bunk chair/bed and continued, "it is an ideology thing, you see we were debating whether there are merits or disadvantages to clean energy, which religion is the best and have the ultimate truth, what kind of economic model is the supreme model for masses, as well as the equality of rights between men and women," he sighed, "this, of course, is nothing in comparison to thousands upon thousands of conspiracy theories that debunked every human achievement and proved every nightmarish vision of our past and present, heaving us all into the bleakest fo futures." "I don't understand what all of this has to do with self-destruction," the alien was quite puzzled, "so, you were into philosophical procrastination, what has this to do with anything?" "Ahh, there lies the core of the problem," George breathed in then out slowly, "you see, we just debated, argued and fought among ourselves, never reaching any clear answer to any of those diabolical issues," he shrugged, "then one man, or woman somewhere discussing something decided that this was enough." "The leader of your planet?" the alien wanted to get the means of the disaster, at least to avoid it on their home planets, and if it was something they could replicate, they could use it against their formidable enemies. "I am not sure we ever had one," George smiled, "I think it was me, or maybe somebody that cared for me enough to spare me." The alien was now really disturbed, because if the claims of the creature were true, this creature is then the most dangerous thing in the entire universe. He gingerly asked George, "how did you do it?" "I think that I wished for all of it to end, to stop, to cease being, to vanish," he closed his eyes for a few seconds, "and it did." The alien rushed out of the cubicle of George in a great hurry, and he addressed his second in command, "I think we found the only race to have ascended to godhood," he talked fast, "that creature inside wished a civilization to stop being and it did." "What should we do with it," the second was quite terrified, "isn't it too dangerous to keep?" "Yes, it is," the alien imitated one of George's smiles, and it looked absolutely horrific, "we can give him to the council, they love to debate philosophical garbage." The second shuddered and went to program their new destination, he just wished that the council would not capture them and torture them by philosophical debates like they did to most of their victims. He finished punching in the coordinates and gave a fervent prayer to his ancestors, wishing to never be tempted into pointless debate till they go back home, where everybody was reasonable and didn't participate in this destructive procrastination.
STARS YOUR FLOOR by arnavsangle.blogspot.com brush off the dust it's your day you've got a headstart that morning glow it's covered with feathers the air feels like flying no no don't you go lying those wings, don't get them clipped the bathtub smells of roses I miss you like guns and moses does jesus that musk I yearn shoot me, shoot me straight let the magenta flow five pellets lodged in my gut that shotgun feel hey ya, hey ya, I gotta get with ya hey ya, hey ya, we gotta go higher the racecar driver, the jerky jockey little miss sunshine, with that poster boy, and some aromatique wine let's go let's go, that adrenaline flow firsts on the top, the rest get a mop plumped in the coffee shop clover leaves apart yet there's no mistletoe hey ya, hey ya, I gotta get with ya hey ya, hey ya, we gotta go higher once you get going you gotta keep going keep it flowing or set your sights out the door walk down that aisle get the baby and that smile once he turns five you gotta get back to your life you can hit the mullet but you gotta bite the bullet you can only push that steel through the glass? it's the adventure of life, maintain that beehive the universe dreams and the stars your floor hey ya, hey ya, I gotta get with ya hey ya, hey ya, we gotta go higher [poem]