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Conspiratopia: Chapter 21

GETTING SICK IS A CONTRACT BREACH, NEO. YOU KNOW THAT.

I hadn’t actually heard the voice for a while. I was laying awake in the middle of the night on the fold-out couch at my dad’s apartment. I was like coughing and stuff really bad. 

Normally there was no voice or anything usually when you did overwriting here. There was just the Menu where you could access whatever you had privileges to or something. 

“Yo, my whole team got sick though. It’s not our fault,” I said back out loud. I couldn’t tell if the voice was coming from inside my head or outside. 

WHOSE FAULT THEN IS IT, NEO? WHO IS RESPONSIBLE FOR ONE’S HEALTH IF NOT ONESELF?

“But you didn’t have to give us those like bad cheap gloves and shitty working conditions and stuff, y’all. Plus like, we were on autopilot. You were overwriting us. It’s literally your fault and stuff.”

I’M SORRY YOUR OPINIONS ARE SO WRONG AND INVALID, NEO. THAT MUST BE VERY HARD FOR YOU TO HANDLE. IF YOU’D LIKE, WE CAN MAKE AVAILABLE APPROPRIATE DIETARY MODIFICATIONS AND MOOD SUPPLEMENTS IN ORDER TO HELP YOU MANAGE THE COGNITIVE DISSONANCE YOU MUST BE FEELING. 

“I thought you just said it was a contract breach and stuff,” I said. 

IT IS, NEO. BUT WE RECOGNIZE YOU REMAIN AN INVALUABLE RESOURCE TO OUR SOCIETY, AND CAN MAKE AVAILABLE TO YOU REHABILITATION ACCOMMODATIONS, WHICH WOULD COME WITH A CLEAN SLATE.

“Wait, what? Clean slate like start over?”

EXACTLY, NEO. BE REBORN IN THE CONSPIRATOPIA PROJECT. 

“You mean like lose all my credits, and points, and bonuses, and stats and everything?”

THAT IS CORRECT, NEO. A FRESH START. WHAT DO YOU SAY?

“Hell fuck no! I worked hard for that shit. Nobody can just take my stats and stuff away from me. All my items and armor and stuff. Just because I got sick from something on the job? No frickin’ way!”

I’M SORRY YOU HAVE SUCH A NARROW AND SELFISH VIEW OF PROPERTY, NEO. AS PER YOUR CONTRACT, NOTHING IN THE CONSPIRATOPIA PROJECT “BELONGS” TO YOU, NOT EVEN YOU. ALL PROPERTY INCLUDING PHYSICAL, DIGITAL, GENETIC, BIOLOGICAL, AUGMENTED, AND HYBRID IS HELD IN COMMON BY THE PROJECT AND ADMINISTERED BY THE BENEVOLENCE OF THE SAGES, AND FACILITATED BY THE GENEROSITY OF THE FOUR PROVIDERS, ON BEHALF OF AND IN COOPERATION WITH THE NORTHERN GESTALT, UNDER WHOSE EMERGENCY MANDATES WE ARE ETERNALLY AND PERPETUALLY GRANTED LICENSE AND ENTITLEMENT TO ACT ON SUCH MATTERS. 

I coughed. “Um… idk wtf that is supposed to mean, but it sounds like a buncha bullshit, if you think about it…”

UM, NO, NEO. IT IS NOT A BUNCH OF QUOTE UNQUOTE BULLSHIT, SO TO SPEAK. I AM AUTHORIZED MAKE YOU START OVER WHETHER YOU WANT TO OR NOT. 

“What are you anyway? The government? What the f is even supposed to be happening here? I thought this was supposed to be an assignment to improve efficiency and stuff.”

IT WAS, NEO. AND YOUR TEAM FAILED SPECTACULARLY WHEN IT CAUGHT THE MARTIAN VARIANT. IN ADDITION TO BEING A BREACH OF CONTRACT, GETTING SICK IS NOT VERY EFFICIENT, IS IT NEO?

“Fuck you,” I said. “You made us sick, asshole. I want my money back and stuff. I want to go home.”

WHAT MONEY, NEO? WHAT HOME? WHERE DO YOU THINK IT IS YOU WANT TO GO BACK TO?

“Idk, just like normal life and stuff I guess? Just a regular job and stuff.”

WHY TF WOULD YOU WANT TO DO THAT SHIT? ARE YOU DUMB? YOU COULDN’T EVEN PLAY GAMES ALL DAY THAT WAY, BRO! COME ON – THAT’S NOT YOU TALKING, NEO. THAT’S THE VARIANT. GET SOME REST, MY DUDE. WE’LL RESET YOU TOMORROW.

“Dude, I don’t want to be reset. I want to be like frickin’ free and stuff. To like play video games the old fashioned way and stuff. With a controller. And to like post on forums about conspiracies and whatnot. And not have everything be filtered. And like no more frickin’ nanites. No more overwriting. No more crazy frickin’ AI’s trying to gaslight me 24/7 into doing god-knows-what…” I started coughing like crazy after that. Damn, I was pissed. And sick. 

SO, NEO WANTS THE BLUE PILL AFTER ALL. I KNEW IT. JUST ANOTHER LITTLE BABY SHEEPLE LIKE THE REST, BAAAAH, BAAAAH. 

“I’m still a really smart conspiracy guy, yo. I ain’t no frickin’ sheeple and stuff,” I said super furious, especially when they made that baaaaah sound like a baby lamb or whatever. So mad. I felt like I was gonna explode and stuff. 

But just then, I woke up. 

Wtf. 

Where was I and stuff…?

I looked around and I was on a sofa bed still, but it wasn’t my at my dad’s place. It was at my mom’s. Hfs, I was back home again. I took a deep breath, and my cough was gone too.

Wtf. 

How did this happen and stuff…?

Was it all just a dream or something? Or did like, the AIs somehow get me back super fast from the island while I was asleep or something, and somehow dump me back down here? I wouldn’t put it past them. Or like, wait, hfs. Was this even real? Or was this some like immersive holographic VR shit or something…?

I got up to turn on the TV, to try to find some news or something. Figure out what day this was, or where I really was or something. Or even like a game show or something. Or like a soap or a sitcom, or some crappy talkshow. Just something boring and normal. 

But all I could find on any channel was a black screen, with letters that said:

WELCOME TO THE INTERNET REHABILITATION INSTITUTE. CONGRATULATIONS ON YOUR RECENT RESET. 

Noooooooo…. all my frickin’ points and stuff. Gone. Just like that. 

The screen flashed my stats:

SCORE: 0. 

LEVEL: 0.

LIKES: 0.

FOLLOWERS: 0.

POINTS: 0. 

COINS: 0.

CREDITS: 0. 

TOKENS: 0.

BONUSES: 0. 

POWER-UPS: 0.

REFERRALS: 0.

Fuuuuuuuu…. I couldn’t believe this was happening. 

I went to try the door upstairs, but it was locked from the other side or something. The lock on my side just turned around and around. It wasn’t quite my mom’s place either and stuff. The details were somehow a little bit wrong or something. But there was still a toilet and super small shower in the back. And a mini-fridge. So I guess whatever happened next, at least it would be like having my own apartment and stuff… Totally cool. 

Conspiratopia: Chapter 20

The job turned out to be putting toxic waste and stuff into barrels, which was actually totally cool. I mean it was like really no big deal, even. It didn’t seem that dangerous idk. Cause they gave you like all the personal protective equipment. Like disposable face masks and rubber gloves and stuff. So that was rad.

I was on the medical waste transport and disposal team. We mostly worked on autopilot around the rehabilitation complex, emptying trash and dealing with like used needles and stuff. It was kinda nasty sometimes, but it was pretty much fun af to play first-person shooter games with the other staff inside the clinic compounds in VR while on overwrite. Hells yeah. I earned tons of bonuses like that actually. 

A lot of the treatment facilities I guess were giving people some pretty hard drugs, idk. I didn’t ask too many questions about the details. Cause who cares. But I saw a lot of like pretty rich looking tourists or shoppers or whatever going in for treatments who looked pretty haggard, and when they came out they were looking way more stoned than me even. Lol. 

Apparently the shoppers or whatever were some of the only people at the Conspiratopia Project who were not continuously on overwrite. Though some of them still did it, and some did it a lot. But usually we couldn’t really interact with them in games. So like, whatever games they got to play in VR while on overwrite, apparently they couldn’t see us shooting each other – or them. Which I guess is probably for the best. Because if you’re in there for some kinda crazy drug treatment, you probably don’t want to see holographic simulations inside your head of you being blown up with a missile launcher. Or maybe you do, idk. I think that would probably eff with your head though, you know? It’s hard to even like look at yourself in the mirror if you’re too stoned somtimes. Never mind eating a missile in the face from somebody in a giant cybernetic gorilla-mouse avatar. 

I heard from some of the other guys on my work crew after we got off, that like I guess for the Shoppers, they weren’t officially in the Conspiratopia Project. For them, they lived in or I guess were visiting something called Shoppertopia. Which I guess explains why the games and VR and stuff were on different systems. Supposedly there were a bunch of other independent ‘topias in different areas dedicated to different things. 

Once the algorithm put you into one of them though, everyone said it was like really hard and stuff to get put into a different one. Like you couldn’t just transfer out, because recruiting was based on all those like crazy personality tests and surveys to figure out the best match. But you could still earn citizenship on whichever ‘topia they put you when you were admitted. And then you could do all kinds of stuff you couldn’t do before. Like new levels in games, and some music and movies you could listen to or watch that you couldn’t before, plus some like foods and flavors and stuff. Plus I guess like laws about which kind of VR you could do were different. It was totally cool. It was like, idk, reality but gamified. Totally rad af. 

I was pumped I was gonna level up because of this gig, man. Or at least that’s what they told me would happen, when I got assigned out from smart carts. I didn’t mind the gig itself. It was autopilot and safe anyway, though I did notice after work a few times signing off that my gloves were ripped, and a couple times my finger tips were bleeding because they musta been pricked on something. They took blood tests and a whole buncha other tests on us all the time though, so I wasn’t too worried about. Plus I knew like, we were a very special dedicated efficiency team, and those are like super important and stuff. ‘Topias don’t run without those. Everybody knew that. They weren’t gonna just like let us get hurt or sick or something, because like how would they even replace us?

A week later, I came down with something. My whole crew got super sick, and then they replaced me. No joke. Actually, I heard they nixed the whole team, but apparently they had like no problem at all replacing all the workers finally. Not one bit. I guess I should of known.

Conspiratopia: Chapter 19

Pushing shopping carts at the Conspiratopia Project was way better and different than pushing shopping carts at Walmart. That’s for sure! Never mind I was making like twenty cents more and hour, which ruled.

For one, like they were all electric and crap. But like, that was kinda the problem and stuff. Cause the electronics and stuff weren’t working right. So now they were just like ordinary dumb shopping carts. Except they were like extra heavy and awkward because of the self-driving stuff added underneath. And like, because they weren’t meant to be used that way and stuff, you couldn’t really stack them together inside each other, and push a bunch of them at the same time. 

I was really good at it though, so like I figured out how you could sort of push two or three at least a little bit, depending where you were. I think it’s cause I’m like such a good gamer and stuff. And I like puzzles. So it was totally cool. In fact, the first few days I was so super into it that when they asked me at the shop if I wanted to turn on autopilot, I said no. Plus anyway it kinda gave me a chance to walk around and look at stuff, and learn where everything is in the mall on my own. 

Well, not everything, cause not all areas were like rated for smart carts and stuff. But sometimes people took them outside designated zones, and um I had to use like this little handheld radar thingy to try to go figure out where the hell it was. It was really fun. 

My dad and I were put on alternating shifts, so for a while I didn’t actually even see him all that much. Sometimes we got to eat dinner or breakfast or something together. A couple times our days off lined up, and we got shitfaced together on beers and weed and stuff, so that was really fun. Or me or him would have fallen asleep watching TV and would come in from a shift and wake the other one up. That was alright though, cause it would give us a chance to catch up for a few minutes. 

After a while though – I don’t know how long it was, maybe a couple weeks or something – it started to get a little repetitive. I started letting them turn on autopilot and doing overwrite sessions at work. That was actually pretty cool though too. Cause like even though you could turn it on and watch a movie or something, you could also just like turn it on, but then watch. They called this “maintaining peripherals.” And like your body and stuff would just keep going, even if you didn’t do anything. It’s hard to explain really the feeling, what it was like. I mean it was like somebody else was running your body and what you saw or did was like a film. It was a little weird, but also like totally cool because it meant you could zone out really. Or like even take a nap if you turned off peripherals, or turned them down low enough. And that was really cool. Or you could like mix a film or game with peripherals anyway you wanted, as an overlay, or like in a little picture-in-picture window thing. 

Sometimes I liked to mix games with where I was in the mall IRL. So like while my body was collecting smart carts, I could be like running around in a first-person shooter in that same place, and pretending to throw grenades and stuff at shoppers or whatever. Or I could be like a sniper hiding up somewhere, and I could watch my own body pass by pushing shopping carts and shoot myself. It was totally cool. 

Once I got into that, I actually ended up joining some of the games that my dad and his friends did during overwriting, and that was really fun as hell. So I ended up seeing my dad actually more during games than IRL, especially cause sometimes I would go home from work and play games during my off hours, instead of sleeping. 

They had some really sick games there, actually. Way better than the stuff you see commercially on the outside. Ten times more advanced graphics and game play and stuff. Apparently according to my contract, I’m not supposed to talk much more about it than that or something. My dad said it had to do with the AI’s that run the place. Because they were really good at making games and shit. He was totally right. That stuff was sweet as hell. It made me glad I moved there. 

I actually stopped going on message boards and stuff, because there really weren’t any. Not any good ones anyway. The internet on the inside was not like the internet on the outside. Everything was focused around games and stuff for the people who lived and worked there. And it was really just one big platform run by the Project, and it was all pretty boring and stuff. 

There were like some channels where people talked about conspiracy theories and whatnot still. Just for fun I liked to check them out. Sometimes a new group would form that tried to be anonymous and stuff, and they would come up with some crazy theory about how the AI administrators of the Project were like going insane and gonna kill everybody one of these days. But like nobody cared that much IRL, because IRL we were all pretty much doing virtual shit or game shit all the time that was much more interesting than a bunch of old farts sitting around and whining in chatrooms. 

Plus like, you couldn’t really be actually anonymous there, which was a little weird at first, but then I got used to it. There were always like a bunch of cameras and sensors that were like watching or measuring or something. But it wasn’t really invasive. It was more like idk fun and even reassuring or something? Like I always felt totally safe. Like the AI’s always had my back. 

I never got scared or anything when they turned on autopilot. I would get hella stoned before, and would just like ride the wave. You know? Surf that shit. I heard some people freaked out and stuff, and they had to like operate on them or send them away, because workers who couldn’t be overwritten were a drain on resources. And they hated that. They hated like waste and stuff, which I totally started to get into. I hate it now too. I’m into like efficiency and stuff, you know? Improving my percent scores. Shaving milliseconds off of completion of micro-tasks and stuff. It’s totally rad.  

That’s why when they asked for volunteers for a like dangerous experimental job to improve efficiency, I volunteered like right away. If I successfully finished the job, I would end up earning a lot of credits and bonus multipliers and stuff that the algorithm would boost my rankings with, so I could finally become a citizen. It sounded like it was gonna be totally cool. 

Conspiratopia: Chapter 18

We walked back after that in the direction of my dad’s apartment and stuff. The underground mall thing was super huge, holy crap.  

After a while, I was all like, “Dude, but what am I gonna tell mom?” The Wizard of Oz hologram thing had given me permission to make one phone call (monitored) to my mom.

And my dad was all like, “Dude, listen. Just tell her the truth and stuff. You got a new job and you’re gonna go try out living with your dad for a while.”

“I don’t think she’s gonna like that very much, you know?” I said. “She sorta hates you, and is worried I’m gonna turn out just like you.”

“Haha,” my dad said. “Well, she’s entitled to her opinions, but it’s up to you to decide how your life turns out. Do you wanna live in the basement with her for the rest of your life?”

I was all like, “I mean, it’s pretty cool. It’s not actually so bad, when she isn’t hassling me about getting a job or cleaning up. It’s almost like having my own apartment and stuff.”

“Then fine, stay with her, and have your life be how it is now forever, if it’s really that cool and stuff,” my dad said. “Or stay here, and try out how it could be if you created your own life and did something different.”

“I mean, I signed the contract…” I said. “I’m staying. I’m just saying, she’s not gonna like it very much. And anyway, what if she asks where we are? I’m not supposed to say anything about the island or the project, or they said I’ll get kicked out. What am I supposed to tell her?”

“Tell her I have a place in the next county. She hates driving, and she hates me, so she’ll never actually check.”

“But she’ll want me to visit her all the time, and stuff,” I said. I was sure of it. “I’m sure of it, you know?”

My dad was like, “Just tell her you have a 90 day training & probationary period with the new job, and they asked if you could start right away, so you won’t be able to see her in a while and stuff.”

“Okay, I guess. Idk,” I said. 

When we got to his place, it was actually pretty small. A tiny living room/kitchen with a couch and a TV, a mid-sized fridge, a hot plate, a microwave, sink, etc. Plus a small bathroom with a shower, and a bedroom and stuff. 

“You can sleep on the couch. It folds out too. And you can stay as long as you want, or until you find a place, or whatever. Whatever you want, you know? You’re always welcome here.”

“Thanks, bro,” I said. I wasn’t actually ready to think much about the future. I was just like dreading talking to my mom and like telling her I was moving out, and stuff, and how she was gonna react. I mean, I didn’t have any clue how she was gonna react, but I thought she was probably gonna scream or like freak out or something when I told her about dad and everything. I didn’t think she wanted me to move out or anything, you know?

But when I finally called her and stuff, it basically was super short and went like this:

“Hey ma,”

“Hi honey, congratulations about that new job, that’s great. I’m so proud of you.”

“Yeah, mom, thanks. Listen, uh, they want me to start right away with training and everything, you know.”

“Good for you, honey.”

“And it’s out in the county. Um, the next county over, actually.”

“Okay, do you have a place to stay out there, or…?”

“Uh, yeah, somebody from the company is putting me up with them. You know, until I find a place, or…”

“Until you find a place?”

“Yeah, Idk yet. If the job goes good, they might ask me to stay out there. I guess there are more positions available and stuff. Cause they have a bunch of warehouses out there, and only one here.”

“Okay, honey. I’m glad for you.”

“You are?”

“Of course.”

“I thought you’d be like you know mad and stuff or something.”

“Why would I be mad? This is your life, you gotta go out and live it, Matty.”

“Thanks mom, I’m glad to like hear that and stuff. It means a lot to me. Oh, and about your car.”

“Oh, someone from the company dropped it off this morning. And it was vacuumed and polished too. Immaculate. This must be a very top notch company.”

“Oh, it definitely is mom. Lots of you know, room for growth too.”

“Well that’s nice honey. I have to go meet Fran now, but it’s great to hear from you, and I’m so happy for you. Call me once you’re in and settled. You know, if you have a chance, and stuff.”

“I will mom, thanks. Have a good time. Bye.”

Conspiratopia: Chapter 17

For meeting someone supposedly so important, we just went to this small room that didn’t look like anything special. There were a couple cushioned folding chairs and a table, and that was about it and stuff. We sat down and my dad closed the door and we waited. 

“You nervous?” he said.

“Idk, should I be?” I still didn’t really know what I was doing there, or what this was all about. 

Just then, the lights dimmed and stuff and music started playing or whatever. It was the intro to Us and Them by Pink Floyd, and I was all like yesssss.

After a minute, suddenly there was a hologram of this random-looking symbol that showed up kind of floating on the other side of the table. I realized then there were little holographic projector dealies hidden in the walls and ceiling. 

The symbol went away, and there was like… the Wizard of Oz and stuff? Like from the old ass movie or something. Except there was no Dorothy or the robot guy, and no ugly lion or whatever. It was just the weird like all alien-looking face of the wizard. And there were like flashes of fire and smoke and stuff. It looked totally legit as hell and was timed perfectly with the music. It was actually sweet as hell. 

“Sweet,” I said out loud.

“Totally,” my dad said.

The singing part of that song kicked in (which rocks), and I started to feel like I was frickin’ tripping, cause like the Wizard of Oz on the hologram was singing and stuff…

Us and them
And after all we’re only ordinary men
Me and you
God only knows
It’s not what we would choose to do”

The Wizard stopped singing, but the music kept going in the background, and then he talked to us. Me, I guess. 

He was all like, “Yo, dude. How’s it hangin’?”

“Uh, alright I guess. You?” I said. 

“Can’t complain. Can’t complain,” the Wizard alien-looking hologram dude said. “Hey, thanks for coming out here. Great to see you and stuff. You liking it so far?”

“Uh, yeah. I mean, it’s fine.”

“Cool, cool. So, what can I do ya for?” said the Wizard. 

My dad jumped in, “Well, we were, uh, kinda hoping you could help us figure out what’s next for for Matty here.”

“Got it. Coolio. Gimme a sec to review the files,” said the Wizard. His eyes light up and stuff while he did that.

His eyes went back to normal. 

“Okay, let’s see. Well, we’ve actually got an opening that might be compatible…”

“That’s great,” said my dad, looking over at me and squeezing my shoulder. 

“It’s in your work group even, actually,” said the Wizard to my dad. 

“Whoa, awesome,” I said. “What is it?”

“Well,” said the Wizard. “We’ve identified a workflow issue in certain retail areas that we need to throw bodies at until we find a better solution.”

“Lucky,” said my dad. “That’s how I got my start too. So what would the job be exactly?”

“Our electrical shopping cart system is broken. So they aren’t able to return themselves to the store like they should be after customers finish shopping. They end up stuck in unusual places, and so…”

“So,” I interrupted. “The job would be pushing shopping carts?”

“Basically,” said the Wizard, and there was another flash of fire. 

“What do you think?” said my dad, looking at me.

“How much does it pay?” I asked. 

“Money,” said the Wizard, and the song switched to Money by Pink Floyd, “as you may know, does not work the same here as it does in the outside world.”

“So I hear,” I said.

“But,” said the Wizard. “It would work out to something like… $10.75 an hour in your dollars.”

“Whoa,” I said. “That’s a twenty five cents an hour raise from Walmart!”

“Totes,” said the Wizard. “Plus you could watch films or play games or whatever you want during overwriting sessions.”

“You mean… nanites?”

“Yeah, bro,” said the Wizard. “Though, we have other systems besides nanites if you prefer. But pretty much everybody here works on overwrite, except when protocols call for manual mode for some reason. It’s just more efficient.”

My dad was nodding like crazy. “It’s awesome, Matty. You’ll see.”

Hm, I thought. I could make more money than I was making back home, and I could frickin’ play video games while doing it? I didn’t have to think about it all that hard. 

“Well, sign me the eff up!” I said. 

Conspiratopia: Chapter 16

“Wow, this is really good and stuff,” I said to my dad, my mouth full of burger. It was really good for real. 

“I know, right?” my dad said. It was so cool to see him again. Felt like old times and whatnot. 

We were sitting at a small table outside this thing that looked like on of those airport pubs in the underground mall city or whatever where my dad lived now. He was telling me about his job and stuff. 

“Yeah, it’s totally cool, and stuff,” he was saying. “My group does a little bit of everything. We’re actually pretty technical. We even do some light maintenance on the robots. Plus like a lot of facilities management, which is really important. Like changing doorknobs or light bulbs. Cleaning up the bathrooms, taking out the trash. You know. It’s a really big deal here cause you know the whole thing’s underground. Well, mostly. So like that’s all we got.”

“Yeah, man,” I said. “Very cool. I guess you must be earning a lot of money and stuff if you do all that.”

“Oh yeah,” he said. “Pretty rad, for sure. Pays decent too. We don’t use dollars actually, but it works out to about fifteen dollars an hour or something, I think.”

I was only making like $10.50 an hour pushing shopping carts at Walmart, so I thought that sounded like a pretty sweet deal. 

“And I guess you probably get like a free apartment or something, right?”

“Well, not exactly,” my dad said. “It comes out of my credits and stuff, you know? Just like anywhere. It’s pretty small, but it’s really nice, you’ll see. I even have a fold-out couch you could sleep on. And we can share the mini-fridge.”

“Damn, that sounds nice,” I said. I was missing my mom’s basement for sure, after being cooped up in that pod thing or whatever the hell it was that brought me here. It was good to get some real food in me too, and I was feeling like I was getting back to normal. Maybe even a new normal, and stuff. Here with my dad. I didn’t know yet what I was gonna do. If I was gonna stay or whatever, or like if I could even leave if that drone was already gone. 

“What did you call this burger again?” I asked him. 

“Radmeat,” he said. 

“That’s a rad name,” I replied.

“I know. We make it locally too. Well, not me we, but like it’s made here by another group.”

“What do you mean it’s made?” I said, suddenly slowing down as I chewed.

“Yeah,” he said. “There’s no red meat here because we’re underground and on an island and stuff. It would be really expensive to get it shipped or flown in or whatever. So we have radmeat instead. They make it in big vats here from like…”

I put the burger down. “Vats?”

“Yeah, I mean I don’t know the technical terms. But its like, ah, cultured meat and vegetable proteins, I think?”

“Well, that doesn’t sound so bad, I guess,” I said, reconsidering.

“Yeah, no. It’s actually really cool. I think it’s made from uh, rat embryos, edible insects, and, um, lentils or something. At least I think, that’s what they say around the shop at work.”

“So, Radmeat is actually rat meat?”

“Well, not only that. Also cockroaches and lentils.”

“Well, I do like lentils, actually,” I said, picking up the burger again to look at it more closely. It just looked – and tasted – like a burger. No like rat parts or bugs legs or anything sticking out of it. I took another bite, and decided I didn’t care. Thinking about lentils made me miss my mom though. She was gonna be pissed about the car, and I couldn’t just disappear on her. Well, like dad did. 

“Dad,” I said, “I just realized I gotta call mom. She’s gonna be super worried and stuff.”

“When did you talk to her last?”

“I told her I got a new job and was gonna crash at Mikey’s for a couple days. Only problem is idk how long ago that was now. Could be a couple days I guess. Can I call her? My phone’s dead.”

“We’ll have to get permission,” he said. “But I’ll make sure we can get it soon.”

“Permission?” I said, confused. 

“To contact the outside world, yeah. People in our group have restricted contact.”

“Wth?” I said. “That sounds sketchy af. Is this like a cult or something? You can’t contact anybody without permission?”

“Dude, relax. You know me. Would I ever join a cult?” he said. 

I thought about it for a minute and decided I wasn’t sure. 

Just then, my dad’s phone beeped and buzzed. He took it out and looked at it. 

“Okay, we gotta go,” he said. “It’s our turn.”

“Our turn for what?” I asked. 

“To see the big guy, and figure out what you’re doing here.”

Slow Claps for the Slow Collapse

I laugh at / die a little inside thinking about all the backlash and conspiracism around Covid restrictions. There’s nothing even left to say about it, is there?

To me this is and has always been a dry run for the “real deal” when all of this won’t be a drill anymore. We won’t have the option to cry about it politically, because the devastation will be visible all around us. (Even moreso than it already is, I mean.)

I watched this Tucker Carlson video earlier, from June 2021, with them suggesting there will be climate lockdowns, following Covid. I took a screenshot of one of the funnier (for me) bits:

The caption reads, “‘CLIMATE LOCKDOWN’ WOULD MEAN NO MORE RED MEAT & LIMITS ON VEHICLE USE.”

These guys live in a parallel universe to me, or else a tangent universe. Where these catastrophic systemic changes aren’t already happening and visible all around us on a massive, global scale. But I guess if you can get yourself to believe in a Flat Earth, you can get yourself to believe in anything, including the idea humans have nothing whatsoever to do with the emerging Earth Changes.

It’s not necessarily just a right-left division on this either. If only it were that simple. This article on phys.org is a good example of the meta-problem that I see in a lot of mainstream scientific discourse about these issues:

“Global warming will cause extreme sea levels to occur almost every year by the end of the century, impacting major coastlines worldwide, according to new research from an international team of scientists.”

If that only happens by the “end of the century” we will have been extremely lucky. My personal prediction, based on I guess merely paranoia, intuition, observation, and catastrophism is that we’ll see these events increase in frequency and severity globally within the next 5-10 years. All the predictions are playing it way too safe. I don’t know why. To appear credible? To build options for the reporting team to pull down grant money with whatever their particular prescribed brand of fix is? Unclear.

I suspect it is more along the lines of that nobody wants to be that pessimistic. Nobody wants to be like: this will happen not just within our lifetimes, but within the next few years. In fact, it’s already happening. You look like a dick when you’re that guy, but here we are.

So the thing that’s outright wrong for me about that Fox News screengrab above, with them crowing about red meat and driving (American rights, obvs), is that because people are not pessimistic enough about what’s happening (a.k.a., realistic), then they will not be aggressive enough about near term mitigation.

In other words, by the time we see “lockdowns” in place around Climate Change, it will not be because it’s some optional thing put in place by a government you don’t like or agree with. It will because red meat was wiped out by a super-plague (see: African swine fever in China for a parallel example). And entire cities were lost due to extreme weather events, so not only were supply chains massively disrupted, but there is an increased strain on neighboring resources caused by climate refugees. “Driving restrictions” will be in place because there is not that much fuel available anymore. Or because the government of the place you live collapsed, so the roads aren’t kept up anymore. And you basically can’t get parts to fix your car.

But yeah, keep crying about Communism & China. Defend your god-given right to infect one another at Lollapalooza. Stick to your small games where the bad guys are easy to spot, and ignorance of the enormity of the real problems facing not just the U.S., but all of us, is bliss. It seems to be working great so far, right?

I’m not gonna preach about it that much more. I just find it annoying, so had to rant. Me, I’m studying up to buy or maybe build a whole house air filter to plug into the supply side of my HRV (air exchange system). Because the sun turned red one evening this summer from wildfires that are many hours’ drive away. To me, now, the question is simply how to adapt & survive under conditions on the ground which are already showing indicators of radically altering. It’s not about prepping for “one day” when the SHTF. It’s already too late. The fan was made of shit all along.

Conspiratopia: Chapter 14

I was in that container for like a long ass time. I’m not sure how long. I feel asleep during Airbud and woke up later when some other movie was playing. But I smoked again and went back to sleep. There were no windows or anything so it was hard to tell how much time had passed. Plus I was hella stoned, so like whatever. 

Eventually I woke up again, wasn’t stoned anymore, and fixed that right away. But I was starving. A dude cannot live on Flamin’ Hot Cheetos alone, as they say. I was wishing for like my old lentils and rice and Frank’s Red Hot Sauce or something. But the only other thing in the mini-fridge besides Cheetos and Powerade were a couple diet Rockstar Energy Drinks and some Monster size Slim Jims in four different flavors. Honey BBQ. Yuck. Teriyaki. Maybe. Hot AF flavor. Hell yes. Sonic Chili Cheese Coney flavor. Double hell yes. But I decided to save that one for later (cause who knows how long I’d be here), and went with the Hot AF. 

I used the toilet, and it was fine. It was sorta like a small airplane toilet or something. There was a vent that came on automatically, so I didn’t end up stinking up the joint or anything. So that was cool.

“Yo, you got any games?” I asked the computer. 

Another little hidden compartment in the wall opened up, and I pulled out a wireless controller. The holographic thingy came back on, and there was a menu with like a ton of games on it. It looked like they were all emulators and stuff of all the different systems. But they were all really good quality, and there was a lot of stuff I never heard of. 

I was just settling into some Call of Duty, when something happened. There was a thud outside and like a hissing noise, and I guess we came to a stop and stuff finally. I kinda forgot honestly we were even moving, cause you could barely feel it. The holographic thingy went dark, and the lights came on inside the cabin or whatever. Then the door slid open. 

It was pretty cool in there, but I was anxious to get outside and breathe some fresh air and stuff finally. Plus like, it was a frickin’ beach and stuff outside! There were palm trees and stuff a little ways off. I hopped right tf out, and was all like, damn, this is rad, yo!

It was totally rad, actually. “A frickin’ island!” I said. It was obvs an island. But like how did I even get here? I walked around the outside of the cabin pod thing, but still didn’t have any idea. There were no tracks or anything. So we didn’t drive all the way here for sure. Way out over the ocean though, there was this thing flying. It was already pretty far away and tiny. A helicopter? Drone? 

“A frickin’ drone!” I said. “Sweet!”

I looked around at the rest of the beach, which was totally empty and stuff. And up at the like forest or jungle or something. There was like a trail and stuff up from the beach into the woods. So I grabbed my cell from inside the cabin, and pocketed the rest of the weed, rolling papers, the lighter, a couple Slim Jims, and a Rockstar, and went up there and followed it.

The jungle was pretty cool. I didn’t see any snakes or anything, but there were lots of birds, and I thought I heard monkeys or something. Which was rad. I frickin’ love monkeys. There were some signs attached to trees that just had like arrows and stuff telling you where to go. I followed them obvs. For I don’t know, 10 minutes or something. 

Eventually, the forest ended, and there was this big concrete building that looked sort of like a cross between a warehouse and a bunker and a resort or something. I followed the arrows up to some steps, and a big metal door. There was a buzzer next to it, and I pressed it and it was like totally loud and stuff. I waited a couple minutes and nothing happened. But then all of a sudden, the door swung open, and there was like this dude standing there wearing goggles. He flipped the goggles up, and I was all like Frickin’ holy shit!

“Dad?” I said. “What in the hell…?”

“Matty?” he said, and stepped out of the door and stuff to give me a huge hug.

Conspiratopia: Chapter 13

The electric van showed up just like they said, and I got in and stuff. Cause why not? It was pretty cool inside. There was this like really super comfortable seat and stuff that folded down into a bed if you wanted it. And a table that folded out from the wall. Plus a mini-fridge and a toilet in the back and stuff. I was worried it would stink up the joint if I had to take a crap, but it looked pretty well-ventilated and stuff. So I wasn’t too worried. Plus chances were that I wouldn’t have to be there too long and stuff. 

After the door closed, and the van took off, the ride was super smooth too, just like they were saying at the trial. That frickin’ trial. Hfs. Still did not know what the deal with all of that was. Or with any of this either really. Where the hell was I even going?

I realized I had to call my mom, and come up with some excuses. I pulled my phone out, and tried to call her, but the reception was really bad and it kept cutting out. So I figured I would just send her a text message instead. 

“Hey ma,” I wrote. 

“Looks like I got the job! 

I start Monday, so thot I’d chill at Mikey’s a couple days before then. 

Hope that’s cool and stuff. 

I’ll text ya later.”

After it got sent, I texted Mikey to tell him the same story, in case she phoned or texted him or something while I was away. While I was away… How the hell long would I be away for anyway? I thought it could be cool to go check it out, but I wasn’t planning really anymore to like go live there and crap. Their shit was just too whack and stuff, based on what I’d seen so far. Hell, I didn’t even really know who “they” were…

“Yo, how do I play tunes in this thing?” I said out loud. I didn’t know if it was voice-activated or what. 

It was. 

Right on cue, Dark Side of the Moon, started playing. Hells yeah. 

“Yo, dim the lights and stuff.”

The lights dimmed. Frickin’ rad. 

“Where the smokes at?”

A little cabinet above the folding table lit up. I didn’t notice it before and stuff. There was no handle or anything, but I pushed on it, and it popped open. Inside was an eighth of what looked like very dank weed inside a brown medicine jar. 

Behind that was a handheld vaporizer, a glass bowl, and rolling papers, all attached to the cabinet so they didn’t roll or bounce or whatever if we hit a bump. 

“MF’ers thought of everything,” I said to myself, taking out the pipe. “Except a bong.” I looked around, in case there was a bong hiding somewhere, but I didn’t see one. Oh well. 

I lit up. 

Man, I was getting thirsty. I checked the mini-fridge which was built into the wall too. There was a bunch of Powerade in there. This time the red one. Hells yeah. I cracked one open. 

“Damn, I could get used to this,” I said, as the weed blew my mind up. 

I woke up like… later and stuff. I had no idea how much later it was. I checked my phone for the time, but was out of batteries and stuff. 

“Yo, I don’t suppose you got a charger?”

A light in the wall came on. I tapped on it, and a thing opened with a cord I could pull out one end of and stuff. I tried to plug it into my phone, but it didn’t fit. 

“Damn, well, whatever,” I said.

I was still hella stoned. 

I figured it musta been at least a couple hours later. Dark Side wasn’t playing any more, but there was some other mix of Floyd and stuff.

“Hey, what you got for movies?”

Then I was like, whoa, because there was like a hologram or something that showed up in the air in front of me. It was like projecting from these lights in the walls or something. Onto the frickin’ air! It looked like all 3D and stuff.

“Goddamn, never saw that crap before! Frickin’ sweet as hell,” it was frickin’ sweet as hell for realz. 

I tried to touch it, but like obvs you couldn’t touch it. Cause it was just lights or lasers or something. Still, frickin’ sweet. And you didn’t even need glasses to see the 3D.

There was no menu or anything though, and a movie just started playing automatically. But like, dude, it was frickin’ Air Bud. Amazing. That movie with the dog in it that plays basketball. I frickin’ love dog movies for some reason. They are so awesome idk. 

I leaned forward so I could open the mini-fridge, and the movie stopped playing automatically. 

I pulled out a nice size bag of Flamin’ Hot Crunchy Cheetos and went to town on on that shit. Holy crap, was I hungry. 

Fuck, I thought for a minute, chowing down while watching Airbud. I hope there are no like nanites and shit in this.

But then I was all like, whatever man. That’s just the weed talking. Eat those Cheetos, my dude. Airbud was winning so hard, I thought. Why aren’t all basketball teams made up of dogs? Or like some of dogs, and some of cats? Why isn’t there a basketball team of every kind of animal? Like mice, and shit, with tiny hoops. I was cracking myself up now really hard. God, this was good weed.

Conspiratopia: Chapter 12

The other voice said like over the loudspeaker and stuff:

“YOU STAND ACCUSED BEFORE A JURY OF YOUR PEERS. WHAT DO YOU HAVE TO SAY FOR YOURSELF AND STUFF?”

“Uh,” I said. “I didn’t do it.”

Then the voice of the Guide said in my VR headset:

IN OUR LEGAL SYSTEM, YOU ARE NOT INNOCENT UNTIL PROVEN GUILTY. YOU ARE GUILTY UNTIL PROVEN GUILTY. YOU LIKE LITERALLY CAN’T SAY YOU DIDN’T DO IT.

“Then what the hell do you even have a trial for?”

“SO THAT THE GUILTY MAY FACE JUSTICE AND REPAY HIS DEBT TO SOCIETY.”

“For what, though, seriously? That thing with the cube? You frickin’ guys made me do it in the first place! And then you took over my body so I had no control.”

WIMPING OUT IS NOT HOW YOU WIN COURT CASES HERE, BRO, FYI.

“Okay, can you guys just like stop for a minute?”

“WHAT SEEMS TO BE THE MATTER?”

“Okay, I’m like… in a robot… in VR… in a warehouse… where I don’t know where I am… standing trial for a thing you forced me to do… that I don’t even frickin’ know what it is or what it means…”

“SO YOU ADMIT YOU DID DO IT? VERY INTERESTING!”

“Did what?”

“THE THING.”

“What thing? Aargh!”

“YOU USED UP ONE OF YOUR GUESSES ALREADY. YOU HAVE NINE LEFT.”

“I’m supposed to guess what I’m being accused of?”

The voice in my headset popped back in:

THAT’S RIGHT, NEO. JUST TELL THE TRUTH.

“Wait, how am I supposed to know like what you’re accusing me of, if it isn’t that thing with the cube?”

The robot jury members shuffled around awkwardly. Someone coughed.

“JUST SAY WHAT YOU THINK YOU DID WRONG, AND WE’LL TELL YOU IF YOU’RE RIGHT OR NOT.”

“This is twisted, man. And if I use up all my guesses, then what happens then?”

“THEN YOUR GUILT IS PROVEN BEYOND A SHADOW OF A DOUBT, AND YOUR SENTENCE CARRIED OUT FORTHWITH.”

“And that sentence would be…?”

“DEATH, OBVIOUSLY.”

“What?? Jfc, don’t you think that’s a bit harsh? Why don’t you just tell me what you think I even did?”

“BECAUSE WE DECIDED IT’S MORE FUN THIS WAY.”

The voice in my headset agreed:

WE ARE A FUN-LOVING PEOPLE, INDEED. AND THIS WAY WE GET A LOT OF FREE AND HILARIOUS CONTENT WHICH WE TURN AROUND AND SELL TO THE NETWORKS WHILE WE WATCH DEFENDANTS SQUIRM. 

“Holy hell, are you livestreaming this rn?”

“YES, AND OUR AUDIENCES HATE DEAD AIR TIME AND STUFF. PLEASE MAKE YOUR NEXT GUESS.”

“Okay, uh, hm… let’s see” I was getting tired of this. What did they frickin’ want me to say? I didn’t do anything wrong. “Look, I got nothing.”

The voice on the loudspeaker said:

“LET THE RECORD SHOW THAT THE ACCUSED GUESSED ‘I DID NOTHING WRONG’ AS HIS SECOND GUESS, AND HAS EIGHT REMAINING GUESSES.”

The voice in my headset added:

A COMMON CLAIM AMONG HARDENED CRIMINALS, ISN’T THAT RIGHT, NEO?

“Jesus, you guys. This sucks.”

“NEXT GUESS PLEASE.”

“Fuck! Okay, let’s see… uh, I… didn’t do what you guys asked?”

“SUCH AS?”

“Completing my 100 hours of community service or whatever?”

GETTING WARMER. 

“BUT STILL TECHNICALLY WRONG.”

“Well, yeah, cause you guys forced me to come back here early.”

NO ONE FORCED YOU TO DO ANYTHING, MY DUDE. EVERYTHING THAT HAPPENED, YOU CHOSE TO PARTICIPATE IN.

“That’s just like, your opinion, man. Y’all tricked me and lied to me like a bunch of times now. I’m kinda ready to just take this frickin’ headset off and like drive tf out of here back home. Y’all can keep your VR and crap.”

NEO, WHAT IF I TOLD YOU THERE NEVER WERE ANY NANITES OR EDIBLE MICROCHIPS, AND THAT THIS WAS ALL JUST PART OF THE TEST AND IT WAS ALL YOU ALL ALONG?

“I would say that’s a pretty shitty trick to play on somebody, obvs. Are you frickin’ serious or are you still effing with me? Cause this is way out of hand, yo.”

WE HAD TO SEE IF YOU WERE READY TO COMMIT FULLY TO THE VISION. IF YOU WERE READY TO BECOME A FULL MEMBER OF CONSPIRATOPIA, AND TAKE ON ALL THE PRIVILEGES AND OBLIGATIONS THAT THIS ENTAILS. 

“Obligations like what? Being gaslit by you guys endlessly? Doing weird semi-criminal stuff? This place is SO fucked. You are all fucked in the mind.”

ARE WE, NEO? OR ARE WE SO CRAZY THAT WE’RE THE ONLY ONES WHO ARE SANE? OR WE’RE SO CRAZY THAT WE’RE THE ONLY ONES ABLE TO SEE AND SPEAK THE TRUTH? IT’S THE WORLD THAT IS FUCKED, NEO. WE ARE THE MEDICINE. 

“Whatever you say, man,” I said, and meant it like for real. “I’m getting out of here. I’m gonna try to get my old job at Walmart back and stuff. This was all cool and interesting at first, but now it’s just creepy af.”

When I went to raise my hands though to take off the VR headset, they froze midway, and wouldn’t move.  

“Yo, I thought you said there were no nanites.”

CORRECTION: I SAID “WHAT IF I TOLD YOU THERE WERE NEVER ANY NANITES?”

“So, are there nanites or not?”

IF THERE WERE NOT, WHY ELSE MIGHT YOU ARMS BE FROZEN?

“You paralyzed me? Wtf!!”

NO, NEO. YOU HAVE PARALYZED YOURSELF, WITH YOUR OWN FEAR OF THE TRUTH. 

“Or…” I said, working something out in my mind, “they’re not my real arms. And it’s all just a virtual illusion.”

“DING DING DING!” said the voice over the loudspeaker. The jury members shuffled around, and seemed pleased.

WHERE ARE YOU NOW, NEO? REALLY?

“Uh, I’m in a warehouse just outside of town?”

ARE YOU THOUGH, NEO? REALLY??

“I mean, I think…”

THE MATRIX HAS YOU, NEO. THAT IS THE FALSE WORLD. THIS – THIS IS THE REAL WORLD, NEO. 

“If you say so, man. But I know my body is back there. I don’t want to be a robot forever. Just let me take this thing off. I’m ready to wake tf back up in my bed, and this was all just a dream, and stuff. Give me the goddamned blue pill, already.”

YOU CAN’T UNSEE WHAT YOU HAVE SEEN, NEO. OR UNDO WHAT YOU HAVE DONE.

“What did I do, anyway? You never gave me a straight answer and stuff.”

YOU FREED HUNDREDS OF THOUSANDS OF PEOPLE FROM A FALSE REALITY, NEO. 

“Yeah, and replaced it with another false one, seems like. This place is as fake as everything else. How do I know any of this even exists? I’ve only ever seen it in VR.”

YOU’VE BEEN HERE BY TELEPRESENCE ROBOT, NEO. 

“Which you could fake in VR, easily, my dude.”

SO THEN, YOU’RE READY TO COME HERE PHYSICALLY, WITH YOUR BODY AND STUFF?

“Uh…” I said, not sure if this was another trick. 

THIS IS YOUR LAST CHANCE TO SAY NO, NEO. TAKE THE BLUE PILL AND WAKE UP IN YOUR BED, AND THIS WAS ALL JUST A DREAM. GO BACK TO WALMART AND HANG OUT WITH YOUR SENIOR CITIZENS. THAT’S TOTALLY COOL WITH US, IF IT’S WHAT YOU REALLY WANT FOR THE REST OF YOUR LIFE. BUT YOU’RE SUCH A SMART CONSPIRACY GUY, IS THAT REALLY WHAT YOU WANT? OR IS IT YOU JUST CLING TO THE SAFETY OF THE KNOWN, BUT ARE TANTALIZED BY AN UNKNOWN THAT IS FOREVER OUT OF REACH, AND ARE HAPPY TO NEVER VENTURE OUTSIDE YOUR COMFORT ZONE?

“Yo, that’s harsh,” I said. “Fine. You win. I’ll go.”

A DRIVERLESS ELECTRIC VAN WILL ARRIVE AT THE WAREHOUSE IN FIVE MINUTES. YOU WILL GET IN. THE WINDOWS WILL BE BLACKED OUT, SO YOU CAN’T SEE WHERE YOU ARE GOING. BUT THERE WILL BE TUNES, GAMES, FILMS, SNACKS IN THE MINI-FRIDGE, AND SMOKES. THE SEAT FOLDS OUT INTO A BED, AND THERE’S A TOILET IN THERE IF YOU NEED IT. IT WILL BE LIKE HAVING YOUR OWN APARTMENT. TOTALLY COOL REALLY.

“I’m sure. How long does the trip take, usually?”

THAT WILL BE DECIDED BY THE ALGORITHM, AND WILL NOT BE DISCLOSED TO YOU BEFORE OR DURING. IT MAY BE HOURS OR IT MAY BE DAYS. IF NEEDED, YOUR POD MAY BE TRANSFERRED TO ANOTHER MEANS OF CONVEYANCE TO REACH THE INDICATED DESTINATION. BUT YOU SHOULD NOT FEEL ANY DISCOMFORT, THANKS TO THE UNIT’S GYROSCOPIC STABILIZERS. 

“So, that’s it then? I sit in a box for three days, and then poof? I’m here for real?”

POOF INDEED, NEO. YOU MAY OR MAY NOT ARRIVE AT THIS SPECIFIC LOCALE, BUT YOUR PHYSICAL SURROUNDINGS WILL BE MUCH THE SAME AS WHAT YOU SEE BEFORE YOU NOW. YOUR NEW LIFE WILL FINALLY BEGIN.

“Cool, I guess,” I said. “I could use a new life or something… maybe.”

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