Archive for the ‘David Kopaska-Merkel’ Category
In space, no one can hear you scream
Tuesday, March 27th, 2007
A dumb tag line from an ancient movie, but it’s coming back to haunt me as I wait to die. A movie got me into this mess. I was climbing around on the Listening Post, and it looked so much like one of the pods from that other old movie, what was the name? There was a psychotic computer in it, I remember that.
Anyway, I was thinking about that scene where the guy is trying to get back into the ship, and I just . . . didn’t check my tether. They say that stupidity is about 79 percent heritable, which means I’m doing my part to improve the gene pool. I’m only 1,000 meters out, and no one can hear me, because the LP doesn’t listen at radio frequencies. No broadcast long-distance communication allowed. Of course, if we weren’t so short-handed, what with the war and all, I’d have backup. I’d be alive.
I wish I hadn’t renewed my life insurance.
If I hadn’t, Louise wouldn’t be getting any money out of the TBA. It was a Trans-Belt programmer who stole her from me. What she saw in him is anyone’s guess: boring, ugly, and no money. She had it made with me, and now she’ll be spending my insurance money with that loser.
Where was I?
Everything is spinning. I guess really it’s me that’s spinning. I keep seeing the LP, smaller each time, diminishing like the murdered astronaut in that old movie. The other guy was trying to save him but it was no use. If someone wanted to save me I’d be a textdisk example. Next time someone comes out here I’ll be thousands of kilometers from anything. They’ll never find me.
It’s funny. I was floating, looking out at the stars, and almost starting to feel at peace with my situation. It’s beautiful out here, and I so seldom find the time to look. I was absently coiling up my tether as I looked out at nature’s biggest jewels, and when I got to the end I saw that the hook is completely smashed. No wonder I came loose. I oughta complain to the manufacturer, but I’ve got nothing to record a message on. If it wasn’t for a defective piece of gear I’d be on my way back to base now. Sucks to be me.
But it sure worked out good for Louise.
The Bagel Didn’t Fit
Monday, March 26th, 2007
They held a wake for the toaster. I didn’t participate. The cutlery served as ushers and all the glassware and most of the ceramics participated. Didn’t tell them a wake doesn’t need ushers. I can let some errors ride. The microwave gave the eulogy. All about how they had been neighbors, and that even though the toaster tended to be a bit rigid in his views, she felt that at bottom he was a good soul. It went on for a very long time.
“When are you guys going to be done?” I said, “because I’m feeling a bit hungry.” If looks could kill! One of the juice glasses, the “Land Before Time” one with Sarah on it, actually started to cry.
“It was an accident!” I said.
“How could you be so insensitive!?” one of the Mexican bowls gasped. She fanned herself and hyperventilated: “I need some air.” I tried to lift her up to the window sill, but she shied away like I might drop her.
“Well, I’ll get something from a restaurant. Don’t wait up.” A chilly silence followed me outdoors.
The van was surly. “You know, Jack,” she said, “you can be a real jerk.”
“Yeah, sorry,” I said. “Let’s go to Taco Bell.” At least she drove me over there. I was half afraid that she would refuse. I went through the drive-through. At the order panel I asked for a couple of chicken soft tacos and a margarita.
“What? I can’t hear you! You’ll have to go back through the line.”
I repeated myself. I shouted. I used words of one syllable. The panel seemed to understand less each time, almost like it wasn’t listening. “What’s the matter with that thing?”
“Word travels fast. She just married a toaster,” the van replied. “Maybe a human wouldn’t understand.”