#technology

Howdy. You can call me "Jack." It's not my real name, but that's what I'll go by for now. I reckon the time to tell my story has come. Believe it or don't, but here it is. I suggest you take away the lessons it teaches, even if you dismiss it all as bullshit like 98% of the other stories on the internet. But there's more truth in this story than any one of you could know.

To be honest, I've never thought about murder and death. I'm used to just pushing through thoughts like that, you know? Especially for a 27 year old scientist. Don't get me wrong, I've seen my share of coffins and corpses here in Vail, Colorado. But that was before the freak accident with the Tesla coils killed me, and I was a, shall we say, guinea pig of new weaponry for the US government. I'm kinda glad I'm not as human anymore. They're are so petty. They kill for money, ego, materialistic…

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There was this tiny indie horror movie that basically nobody had seen. I don't even remember how we found it. Maybe TikTok, or maybe someone on Reddit recommended it. It had one of those titles that sounded way cooler after you finished watching it than before, and it looked like it had a budget of maybe twenty dollars. Somehow it still worked. It wasn't really scary in the traditional sense. There weren't any monsters or cheap jump scares. It was just... unsettling.

ICON Systems Group TL-07: Neural Language Analysis Internal memorandum #TL510513 1A Dr. Elin Saber [Routing: Office of Internal Ethics Oversight] To: IEO General Director Hevlen Please, read carefully. I'm not sure how long I can keep my thoughts straight, or if they are even mine anymore.

Almost everyone who has lived, or once been a tourist, in Cleveland, Ohio, has probably visited the West Side Market, an old-fashioned marketplace of generations-old stands selling fresh produce, meat, and spices. Do you ever wonder how the West Side Market was founded, or how the original West Side Market still operates? Officially, the market opened in 1840. A long time ago, but nothing compared to when it truly started.

​Stacy was a diligent office worker-meticulous and thorough. It was a typical, sunny summer day, just like any other. She sat at her desk, buried under a pile of documents to sign and a long list of emails to send. Nothing indicated that her peace was about to be shattered. Her colleague, Michelle, walked into the office, announcing that there was an issue with the ventilation system and that the computers were running louder than usual, though no one knew why.

Electrons excite me. Perhaps that is why I took so readily to computers. By the age of 13 I had cobbled together my first computer from the odd bits leftover from the old computers of friends and family. The rush of creation and experimentation that I felt that day has never been matched, but my experiments are getting closer to recapturing that glory.

October 29th The announcement hit the internet like a bomb.

I often like to view creepy things on the internet. I don’t totally know why, I’ve just always been intrigued by things that are just…off. Any media is fine to take in the content. Stories, movies, videos, audio clips, video games, whatever. I just want to be unnerved. I work third shift, so my sleep schedule is all messed up. I sleep during the day and work at night. I get two days off a week, though, and always in a row. I could use this time to have some semblance of a normal life, but I’d…

I never really did want to go to that Christmas party, but I have to say it turned out all right in the end. The Christmas party was to be held on the great stage at the Opera House downtown, and it was open to all employees of the law firm Goble & Mundorff and their immediate families.  That last part was a problem for my brother Henry and me, because our mom was a paralegal at G&M, and she’d made it clear that she expected us to put in an appearance.

I've never been what you'd call a "gamer". Sure, I own a console. It's outdated by now. I like to play the odd game. But that's about it. I'm almost forty. Old enough now that when I was at the height of my "gaming" years, all that really entailed was getting together with friends to play Mario or Castlevania, or Excite Bike, or Punch-Out. Maybe Sonic if a friend had a Genesis, which no one does anymore.

For the longest time I’ve turned to ASMR to help relax me. ASMR stands for Autonomous Sensory Meridian Response. It’s basically a brain orgasm that is triggered by personal attention, tapping sounds, deliberate tasks, ear or microphone covering— well there’s a multitude of things that can trigger that sort of response. It’s been my go to for anxiety for the last couple of months. You can find these videos easy enough on youtube. I usually listen to MassageASMR before bed.

Thoughts of Thai food from the place around the corner cluttered my concentration as lunchtime crept ever closer. No one makes hotel reservations in December. By now, virtually all rooms were booked and the best rates were a Summer memory. Still, there is always a chance for a last minute booking so I waited, at the ready, for anything resembling a call. Two clear tones signaled an incoming call. I glance at the clock. "Of course, just before I clocked out," I thought to myself.

Most people have never heard someone die. The moaning. The crying. The pleading. The last tortured breath before they go quiet. Most people will never hear those things. I do. Daily. No, I’m not a serial killer on a hellbent mission to cleanse the Earth. I’m a 911 operator. When I took the job ten years ago, I assumed I’d more or less be like an air traffic controller, but for emergency response teams. For a large portion of my job, that’s true. That’s the easy part. Death is harder.

A cold snowflake greets the warm skin of my face, melting immediately. I ignore the sensation and look forward instead, just like the rest of my group. “Holy shit! The legends did have some truth in them!” Jess yells over the howling wind. David shakes his head: “I’ve been telling you this a thousand times! This is the whole reason for this expedition.” He can’t contain his excitement. I look at the snow-covered ruins.

Up until January 12th of 2047, it was widely accepted that the ex-planet Pluto was accompanied by 5 natural satellites; Charon, Nix, Hydra, Kerberos, and Styx. The crew of the deep space exploration vessel Hermes discovered a 6th moon whilst photographing the distant planet as they orbited Neptune before their final journey home. When Houston was informed of the development, they were underwhelmed to say the least, as any mass as small as Hermes had described was far too small to be interesting…

“It’s going to happen, Jack. Nothing we can do about it. The wheels are already in motion. Higher-ups tell me I need to release the staff by the end of the week.” “Then ‘AM 640 - Talk of the Town’ becomes what, exactly?” Ron sighed. “Another DJ-less, auto-programmed, adult easy listening station.” “Aww, Christ on a bike,” I said. “They’re stealing the soul of this industry. Our Arbitron numbers grew last ratings cycle.”

Thursday morning. I awoke to the sounds of a siren blaring down the road. Great, another accident. The traffic was the last thing I wanted in the morning while going to work. Still, I had another hour before heading off, so I started my morning routine of taking a shower and brushing my teeth before heading downstairs for breakfast where I saw my son, Michael, eating cereal before breakfast. I grabbed a bagel and sat down on the couch, grabbing my iPad to read the news.

Dear Frank, I am writing because letters feel safer than feeds. A message can sit in a desk drawer and wait. A post will burn in pixels and feed on itself. You told me once that chasing attention is like feeding a stray dog. If you stop, it will go away. If you keep feeding, it will come back in packs. You smiled then. You were right. I did not listen.