Category Archives: Dialogues without protagonists

Situational awareness

“This might be a bit difficult to explain, but-”

“Are you from another dimension, where everything is the same as it is here, albeit with a few differences interspersed throughout?”

“No, but-“

“Are you stuck in a time loop, and have to find some way to convince someone – anyone, really – that all of this has happened before?”

“No, but-“

“Have you arrived from the future to steer humanity away from the whole concept of time travel, as it will inevitably lead to a stable time loop wherein Skynet exists?”

“…no?”

“What seems to be the problem, then?”

“Well, you see, I was in a hurry before boarding the train, and accidentally bought tickets in the wrong direction”

“Let’s see. Ah yes. Well, they cost the same either way, so you bought the right one in spirit. No need to worry”

“Thanks”

A cry for help

“Welcome to the support helpline. How can I be of assistance?”

“How could this happen to me

I made my mistakes

I’ve got no where to run

The night goes on”

“Sir, I understand that you are upset about whatever happened to your computer, but if you could please be a little more specific in your explanation of the problem”

“I open my eyes

I try to see but I’m blinded by the white light

I can’t remember how

I can’t remember why

I’m lying here tonight”

“I see. Can you describe the problem in more detail? Which part of your computer seems to be broken?”

“And I can’t stand the pain

And I can’t make it go away

No I can’t stand the pain”

“Is it that your monitor is too bright? Is that it?”

“Yeah, that’s it. It hurts my eyes”

“I see. There is a thing called night mode. Have you tried activating it?”

“Holy moly, it works wonders. Thanks!”

“You’re welcome”

“…can I sing the rest of the song?”

“Please don’t”

“Okay. Have a nice day. And thanks again!”

A time-honored tradition

“I come from the future – your future – and I need me to do something for me”

“Are you playing the pronoun game on yourself?”

“Who’d better to? Nevertheless – neverdeleuze – I need you to do something. It’s very small, it won’t take up much of your time, and the benefits will be immense when the time comes”

“Sounds like it would be in my best interest to listen. What am I supposed to do?”

“I need you to add the line ‘, as is common in economies of jouissance’ to page 242 of the thing you’re writing now”

“…the thing is only 70 pages so far”

“Right, yes, of course. The writing process and all that. Let’s see. It would be the section on Star Trek and how it relates to contemporary culture. After the detailed examination of the slashfics surrounding-“

“I know the part. Wherein?”

“Let’s see – ah, here, before the Klingon mating rituals but after the Romulan political machinations”

“So what does that sentence fragment even mean?”

“I have no idea, but good things will come out of it being there. Trust me – I’m you”

“Hold up. Are you from a future where I put in that fragment, or one where I didn’t?”

“Sorry, time’s up. Remember what I said!”

Paratextual banditry

“So this is what you propose to send in? This is the controversial piece of writing that will flip the tables, cause intellectual riots and generally upset the salons?”

“Yes”

“But it is the most banal, straightforward, unproblematic text there ever was. In fact, I can’t find one single controversial aspect either in or about it!”

“Think about it in the context of everything else I’ve written”

“What do you mea-“

“That look on your face means you’ve got it”

“You can’t be- you wouldn’t- that’d be”

“I’m glad you understand”

“You magnificent bastard”

“That would be me”

Clinical immortality

“And this is the immortality vault”

“Sounds most impressive”

“Well, it’s more of a server hall than anything else, really. There are some sections dedicated to physical objects, but most of the space is occupied by computers. Over the multitudes of years, it would seem the only reliable way to become extremely long-lived is to shed your mortal coil in the most literal of senses”

“Does it work? Corporeal immortality, I mean”

“We don’t know. Those who manage something close to it are not interested in these archives. Those who bother to answer our questions say something about not being interested in the playthings of fleeting beings and different frames of reference. Then they go dark”

“Huh. Makes sense”

“Ah, here we are. You asked about the most extreme longevity measures we knew of, and here it is. The Boredom Continuity, we like to call it”

“That has some worrying connotations, if you don’t mind me saying”

“They figured that any upload-based immortality would be limited by the lifetime of the machines they uploaded themselves to, so they added another parameter: subjective time. Time is not merely a thing that happens, but something that is experienced – some things go past in an instant, while other things take forever. They thought that if they could find a way to harness the properties that make time go past slower, they’d maximize their immortality in terms of living, as it were”

“So the name… by the gods!”

“Yes. I do not envy them their particular brand of immortality one bit”

Machine upgrades

“I think I have a ghost in my machine”

“Let’s take a look and find out, shall we?”

[miscellaneous computer sounds]

“Aha! I found something! Though I don’t think it’s a ghost, truth to tell”

“How so?”

“Well, it made fun of the way I dress, and challenged me to a game of riddles”

“That… that could be a ghost, couldn’t it?”

“It could be. But ghosts mainly live in the past, trapped in their own memories. It’s what makes them ghosts. This also means they don’t pay attention to other things, such as this admittedly ridiculous T-shirt.”

“So it’s more aware of fashion than you. That is a low bar, to be sure. But if it is not a ghost, then what are we dealing with?”

“I think it’s a fairy, and that we under no circumstances whatsoever are to deal with it. I say this because I think I accidentally made a deal with it, and gave it free residence in exchange for a passable knowledge of fashion”

“Computer fairies, you say? Who would have thought?”

[miscellaneous ambient noises]

“Wanna go buy better clothes to go with that new and improved fashion sense of yours?”

“I was hoping you’d say that”

The littlest things

“See those spiderwebs in the corner?”

“Yeah, they’re cozy. Makes me feel like home, you know.”

“Indeed. You can take a room and fill it with furniture, and it’s just a room. The same with a house. It only becomes a home once the little things are in place. The favorite cups. The earmarked books. The debris of everyday life.”

“Like spiderwebs.”

“Exactly like spiderwebs.”

“So why do you want me to remove them?”

“Do you remember where we are?”

“…on an interplanetary space station. Roger. Spiderweb removal is ago.”

Interpretive bomb squads

“See that graffiti? That one other there, those words?”

“I see them”

“Okay, good. I’m going to give you a moment to let it sink in”

“Not seeing it”

“Wait for it”

“…fuck”

“Indeed”

“Shit”

“We have a consensus”

“Fucking shit”

“The process of understanding is complete”

“…fuck”

“We have to be very careful in how we handle this. Under no circumstances can these words be allowed to spread beyond the two of us. You yourself felt their effect – it’d be a disaster”

“You go get the style guide, I’ll get the spray paint. Hurry up – clock’s ticking”

Content mining

“Another one?”

“Sure looks like it. Just look at him. I’d be surprised if there’s even a trace of content left anywhere within his body.”

“What a shame”

“How many is it this month now? Five? Six?”

“Eight. Two more husks were found tonight”

“Jeez. What do you even do with that much content?”

“The sages and gurus say the appetite for content is insatiable these days, and that you can sell it faster than you can buy it. Not sure how that works, but, then again, look at this guy”

“Remember the old days, when people would just create things? Before it was possible to stripmine a person and exhaust all possible content they could ever theoretically conceive?”

“Good times. Being creative was a positive thing. You could be as slow as you wanted, as long as you just produced that one piece of content that kicked ass. Now…”

“Now people are content. And thugs nab them right off the street, hook them up and empty them. Of everything. To sell for pennies”

“What a shame”

“C’mon. Let’s get him out of here. The least we can do is to carry him someplace warm”

The right to keep and bear arms

“The parasite looks quite like an onion, once removed from the bodies of those inflicted. Somewhat roundish, with small white tendrils on one side.”

“I know what a benevolent symbiote looks like.”

“These white tendrils are quite vital to their extraction. There is an enzyme that paralyzes the parasite and renders the tendrils hard as spidersilk steel. With just the correct dosage, it is possible to pull it out by the hairs, as it were.”

“Heresy.”

“Naturally, you do not want to do this by hand. The parasite is slightly telepathic and very -cidal.”

“-cidal? Seems you’re missing some letters there.”

“Oh no, just underlining the very generic nature of the lethality. To say it’s directed at anything in particular would miss all manner of points.”

“Heretics deserve to die.”

“Fortunately, we built an extraction device. No touching required. It even cauterizes the severed pieces of biology that fed the parasite.”

“Sounds painful. And heretic.”

“Quite. But not if administered while the subject is unconscious. The shock of it all keeps them from waking up. Very handy, if you pardon the pun.”

“I do not want to hear any more of this.”

“As it turns out, the extraction process leaves quite a hole once completed. Thanks to stem cells, however, the missing pieces can be rebuilt, albeit slowly.”

“Not listening.”

“Unfortunately, the process we use to speed up recovery is quite a feat of biology. As such, most people can’t stomach the sight of it, much less the thought of it happening inside of their own bodies. We’ve had to build metal armbands to keep frightened eyes and hands away until the healing is complete.”

“Such as the one on my arm?”

“I think you are starting to come to terms to your post-parasite life.”

“Would trying to rip it off accomplish anything?”

“The parasite is gone, and the armband is there to protect you from yourself, in more ways than one. In the early days, we had a patient who burned his arm to ash, and died of emotion after peeling off the charred remains that used to contain the parasite and finding it now contained a literal nothing, a void, a lacunae. Please do not do that.”

“Why are you doing this?”

“Because the parasites can only be removed from one person at a time. Telepathy, you see. And lethality.”

“No, but, more generally?”

“Very much the telepathy and lethality. But now, I will leave you alone. I suspect you will need to readjust yourself to having your own thoughts again.”