Tag: surreal

The Green Room

The Green Room (Aubrey and Janet in the mists of time)

Janet: – Hey! I think I like being human!

Aubrey: – Really?

Janet; – Yeah! I mean, I look, like, really good, don’t I?

Aubrey: – Really?

Alice (from behind the camera): – Shhh! Stop talking! You’re both going to look really stupid with your mouths open!

J & A together: – REALLY?

Laugh breakdown for several minutes. In the end I did get them to be still long enough to take the picture. I’m not sure why, actually. We can’t take it with us anyway, can we? Perfect timing, though, literally: I got it just as time began collapsing at the edges.

Alice (of wonders)

Sad

Caitlin is sad. She wants to be human, but when she says what she thinks people don’t want her around. But if she doesn’t, what’s the point of talking? She thinks that humans talk mainly to make other humans like them. And to check that what they say is what others like to hear. To become better at thinking the ways others want them to. Which ends up being more or less what they think themselves. So humans try to think the way and like the things all the others do, because that way everyone likes them. 

They have even invented gadgets and a huge network to make it easier to make sure that what they think is what others like them to. So that they can quickly erase any erroneous thoughts from their mind. From the very earliest age they get these brain-washing machines thrust into their tiny hands, and before their defenceless little minds-in-being. 

It seems to her that humans, totally lost in this world of virtual reality and artificial intelligence, are no longer individuals, only fractions of a great common external identity made from what comes out of mostly very tiny screens, designed by people who haven’t the faintest idea what they are doing except for the bit about making money.

 This makes Caitlin very sad. Because who decides which are the right things to think in the first place? But she knows that’s one of the wrong things to ask. On second thoughts, maybe she doesn’t want to be human after all. She is tired of trying so hard all the time. Alice comforts her, tells her that she understands. And that humans have probably just forgotten what they are. Or maybe more like, what they aren’t, she says.

Caitlin smiles and takes her hand. It is warm, and slightly moist, like she has just come out of a hot bath.

Messpunkt

Of course Janet also heard about this birth-and-pregnancy-thing from very early on, being supplied with a personal history of growing up in what was known to some as the early 21st century, in the western culture of so-called democracies. But when she was little she preferred the more elegant and stylish egg story, and even though she did stop really believing in it early on, it was not until her body suddenly made her painfully aware of the actual mechanics of the other version that she finally accepted it.

Aubrey

Stargazer

“There are 2.896.544.670.003.756 and then 2.4 million digits more stars. I made them, remember? So of course I know. Don’t let anybody fool you about there being an infinity of them. Infinity, that’s beyond the stars. Even if that’s the totally wrong word because it isn’t a place at all, but obviously I can’t explain that in words. But that’s where we all go after this, or something, and it’s not to bad, really, it isn’t. Hello, I come from there, right?’

Aubrey D. Goldcase

Hatched

Aubrey D Goldcase (aka twisted steel).

The life and story of Aubrey D Goldcase, an extra-universal congregation of (whatever it is beyond the universe), loosely and largely unsuccessfully translated into human life concepts and language.

She literally hailed, as she was often told in jest, from beyond the stars.

At first she (they) arrived in eggs. The arrival in eggs was a somewhat ill-conceived attempt at making her appearance inconspicuous, this being not exactly the kind of highly personal, intensive, and painful process of pregnancy and birth it usually took to create another human being. At least for the one half of the race that did the actual creating.

But no matter how, there she was. 

Obviously, she was not the only one. The god who figured her out was, after all, trying to recreate and improve upon what the other, and in its opinion somewhat unsuccessful gods, had created in what was clearly instances of abstract-minded spare times. Also, she, and they, were born of necessity. Something simply had to be done. Or at least had to be, unless the whole project was to be scrapped completely. Which, the (god) corrected itself, was a wholly inappropriate term. The so-called reality was not exactly taken down and demolished, rather it deteriorated and petered out, unnoticed and forgotten like outdated phones and computers left in boxes in attics or basements for future tenants to throw away.

It did not put many of the male things in this world. They didn’t seem to be really necessary, if you went with the pregnancy-birth-story, or at least just one or two of them. They generally seemed to do nothing useful, just fight wars and create useless gadgets and drink a lot of beer while degrading girls and women in loud and stupid voices. Or most of them did. Which is why they are largely left out of this world.

Okay, an admission. I, Aubrey D Goldcase (aka twisted steel), is “it”, the so-called god-thing in this story. Yes, that’s right, we’re one and the same. Sole creator of all worlds.

But just call me Aubrey. Well, if you know me, you probably already do