Human, Ghoul, Zombie [rewrite]

Been practicing my fiction writing. Here's a rewrite of my zombie apocalypse virus short story called Human, Ghoul, Zombie. Enjoy and thank you for reading. 

https://docs.google.com/document/d/e/2PACX-1vRRIycTDqOtVFWEfjfPmufpDHivxuRDStb75Oep91NONu8_N0L2xsYgaBd5Ey_jlZj-aGEEAeFl5bTD/pub?fbclid=IwAR0KioquKiYor5rwHalbX8hF8hBaDN4KMi55s3gjkeKPfYcieUrXivVWHik 

Riders on the Storm

Back again, so very soon, after not writing much for the entire month. Well, actually, that isn't completely true. For you see, during this time that I've been on leave from work for two months, I've been writing a long short story, it's not finished yet. It's a better, more refined version of my zombie virus short story entitled Human, Ghoul, Zombie, which you can read here. Other than that, yes, the writing has been sparse. But we'll see how long that lasts. 

Here I'd like to explore the idea of walking the Earth, not only cognizant of yourself, but also dealing with how the pandemic has forced us all into an all too close relationship with ourselves, our families, our friends, and coworkers. I haven't seen too many people writing about this. Perhaps psychology blogs are all over this, who knows.

First off, we're all riders on the storm. We're all walking the Earth, in our own inimitable way. Before the pandemic life was simple, easy, and carefree. Now we are all forced into isolation if we're sick, isolation if we're not sick too, and we've been forced into an all too close relationship with our friends, families, coworkers, and loved ones. 

I don't know but I've been told that in other cultures they don't really have a problem with that. In fact, in some cultures, they prefer their people to be extremely close to each other; mom/dad/kids/grandpa-ma all live together and in poorer parts of the world there are sometimes entire families that live in one room together. The thought of that to most Americans is absolutely unacceptable. But it has its virtues. 

The Japanese make the best astronauts. Why? Because they're used to being confined in small spaces, they get along well with each other, and they're very polite. Why, if Americans were more like the Japanese, there wouldn't be so much dysfunction in families or in the workplace. 

In my own personal experience, I would say I've handled lockdown with family 24/7 pretty well. But not great. I'm not Japanese astronaut status, yet. What am I doing that's working well? 

For one thing, I've found that I'm actually able to find the breaking points with the people around me; I know when and if I set them off, when and if I need to give them space, when and if I need to cool it, and when and if I can engage with that person more in a friendly nature, and lastly, when and if I'm set off/when and if I need a break and/or time out. I'm talking about this as it pertains to myself, my family, and friends but it also applies to my work life as well. 

The lockdown has forced many families into situations where it's easy to be mean or even small to your family, friends, and coworkers. Familiarity breeds contempt as they say. What we're trying to do here is to avoid all that, or if it's impossible to avoid it, to mitigate it as much as possible in order to strengthen relationships and make life better and easier during the most brutal moment in our lives. 

Obviously, if someone ticks you off, you should say something, right? Yes, but watch out, what you say to the other person might affect your life in a much more severe way than you think, especially if you live with that person, if you work with that person closely, or if they're a good friend of yours that you see on a regular basis. It's best to be lighthanded when it comes to dropping the hammer on people that are in your immediate close circle that you see all the time or live with. When it comes to severe arguments, and yes, they are inevitable I'm afraid, remember that it's always the person who gives in and bends the knee and stops fighting that is the better man. You can argue till you're blue in the face but if you see this person constantly you're a lot smarter if you just bend the knee and find some reasonable accommodations between you two. This goes for social and/or work relationships too.

Lastly, to close I should add that life with my family has become like a dramatic space opera; where I'm confined inside a small space shuttle with three other people, and everything I say to them, or do in the space shuttle, every action, large or small, has repercussions or positive effects that strengthen or diminish the morale of everybody aboard the shuttle. Obviously, I want the crew to make it to their destination and finish the mission. In order to make sure that happens each person has to play their part. Or if I play my part in such a manner that it's so good that I astound myself, what the other crew members do won't be as crucial, leading to a stronger party, like a pickup group in a video game with strong leaders and supporting roles that carry the team to victory. The point of all of this is simply to make you a more thoughtful person; the process is daunting, but the reward is a lifetime achievement. 


"The world on you depends, our life will never end"

Human, Ghoul, Zombie

Hey everybody, how's the quarantine life going? Here, I'd like to share with you a fictional short story I wrote that was inspired by the virus. It's called Human, Ghoul, Zombie. It's going to be a series, maybe eventually the theme would be written into a novel. You can read it here; Human, Ghoul, Zombie

Thanks for reading. Keep social distancing and stay healthy! We will get through this together.  

E.T.A. Hoffmann Automata

Automata is an early proto-science fiction short story written by E.T.A. [Ernst Theodor Amadeus Hoffmann] Hoffmann in 1814. The story involves discussions and retellings of several distinct stories, during the evening amongst several men. The narrator walks into the gathering and notices all the guys are staring at this golden ring swinging in the ceiling. His friend says the ring moves according to the will of the men present. Then, another guy begins to tell his tale to prove the existence of the supernatural. 

Then, he tells a story about a young girl who every night at nine o'clock, sees this White Maiden. However, only she can see it. And her family soon believes that she's crazy. However, one night she sees the maiden and proves to her family that it is real. The girl throws a plate in the air to the White Lady [phantom] and the plate floats in the air, stunning everybody. Shocked, the mother dies, and the Colonel father dies in battle, leaving the girl a shell of her former self. 

Then, another guy recalls a story about a musician who was haunted by something playing on his piano at night, with virtuosic skill. Another guy is asked to speak so they can drop these occult stories but he brings up this manuscript titled Automata. Before starting he says something about how all of this is connected.

This story begins with an automaton called the Talking Turk [a reference to unbeatable chess playing Turk], which has such a lifelike human appearance, and people have a hard time figuring out its control mechanism, as well as how it answers questions accurately in many languages and attitudes. Its a bloody AI story, written in 1814. Or something like that. 

Lewis and Ferdinand end up visiting the Talking Turk and they see that the answers he's giving to the audience aren't to their satisfaction. Ferdinand goes to speak with the automaton and comes back to Lewis. He tells Lewis that there must be a spirit controlling the automaton because he asked him questions he had never told anybody else about. 

From here we learn that Ferdinand had a dream in an inn where a beautiful woman was singing to him, perhaps a childhood friend who he was destined to be with. Upon waking up, Ferdinand realized that the woman he saw from his window wasn't the woman from his dream. Although he locks eyes with the woman, she quickly takes off in a carriage. When he now asked the Turk if he would see the woman, the Turk says, "Next time you see her, she will be lost to you forever." 

Ferdinand is upset by his answer and won't give up. So Ferdinand and Lewis decide to learn more about the automaton and its maker, the old man Professor X. They meet the Professor and he puts on a musical performance for them, complete with performing automatons. Afterward, there is a discussion on the nature of music. On the sounds of nature and instruments.

Several months later Ferdinand leaves on business and sends a letter to Lewis, saying he's seen this long-sought-after singer. Upon recognizing Ferdinand she faints in the hands of Professor X. Ferdinand wonders if the Turk's prophecy has been fulfilled by psychic bonds making their way into everyday life. 

The story ends with Ferdinand being fine, they had even recently read one of his dialogues on opera. The group is tired of the automaton story, and ask to be done with it. It is said that the Talking Turk is merely a fragment, and the conversation moves away from the subject. 

This is a pretty great early sci-fi story from a German writer, artist, composer, jurist, and music critic. Hoffmann was an author of fantasy and Gothic horror, as this story seems to suggest. Hoffmann was also one of the major authors of the Romantic moment. One of the things that this short story does very well is involve music in the story. There are lots of musical terms, phrasing, sounds, as well the music performance of the automatons itself. I attempted to do something similar in my robot short story [which you can read here]. However, Hoffmann does it so much better. The way music is described by Lewis in the story is quite moving, he describes the way the sound of the stars might sound, and how he is appalled by the automatons performance. He believes that electronics and automatons cannot make moving music, because it is the human touch and emotion which moves us in music. It's quite a scarring rebuke in the postmodernist musical world, where EDM and house music can sound like a washing machine gyrating on and on. 

The literary style here is baroque. Hoffmann was a man of much learning. The way he writes isn't simple and some words I even had to look up online to understand the story. However, it isn't overly complex and his meanings do get across quite easily. The writing style isn't smooth, but it's not wooden either. It works. 

The musical aspects of this story moved me. The automatons themselves were interesting even though they weren't described too much or with much detail. Were they made of wood, plastic, or metal? How did they operate? Gears? Not sure but one thing for sure they could do many things. Another thing that this story makes me think about is the rise of AI, whether they are in the form of robots or just simply as everyday computers. This story definitely brings that all to mind. Although I can't say this is pure science fiction, there are definitely sci-fi elements here. This is a great read, recommended to anyone who likes literature of antiquity and proto-science fiction. 

I learned about this short story from Wikipedia's Timeline of science fiction. I found it under 1814, right before Mary Shelly's Frankenstein, a personal favorite. This story has aged gracefully and I believe it still has relevance in 2019, some 100 years later.

Read Automata here--http://users.clas.ufl.edu/burt/touchyfeelingsmaliciousobjects/Hoffmannautomata.pdf

Bird the Saxophone Playing Robot

Hello, what's up everybody? This is a new idea I'm trying out, instead of writing so much about certain subject matters I'm going to start writing short stories and eventually write an entire novel if I can get something interesting enough to keep writing for long periods of time (lol). Anyways, this is the first short story and its called Bird the Saxophone Playing Robot. Its a light-hearted yet serious story about a robot who gets backlash by humans because people can only see robots as creatures of labor, much to the robot's chagrin. I'm going to work on it in installments. Thank you. 

Bird was at the end of a set at the Jazz Estate, a top notch jazz club in New York. His 1960's Selmer saxophone glistening in the shadows of the dim performance hall. His solo was quite something. Sheets of sound, as they called Coltrane's sound in the early 60's, but with melodic, fast, and improvisational lines more akin to Charlie Bird Parker. This was Bird, a robot designed by US Robotics Corporation in the year 2077. Bird was of course named after Charlie Parker, however no matter how hard Bird swings, he can't get any slack. He ended his solo, played the head to All The Things You Are and ended the tune over a major sixth chord. 

He walked to the backstage room and sat down, thinking about the music, how certain parts sounded great, others were just okay, and other similar thoughts. He heard someone tapping at the door and speaking to get his attention. 

"Hey, whats up Bird! May I come in?" 
"Come on in. I'm just chilling", Birdbot's voice a low melodic whisper. 
They talked about the performance. Bird's friend was a human named Varian who was a close and longtime friend, music collaborator, and quasi promoter and manager. He was a young white man, with long brown hair, and he often wore sunglasses even indoors at night. They talked more about the music. 

"Really cool set out there man", Varian said, his voice a Californian tenor. 
"Thanks dude, yeah I was really trying to channel my inner self, my soul. I'm getting ready to record an album of all original compositions, I wanted you to go over my arrangements and see if anything needed changes." 
"Sure, I can do that. Would you like me to play (piano, Varian is a pianist) piano on the album?" 
"That sounds great!", Bird's voice as gay as an actual songbird. 

They laughed and were as happy as ever. Bird was a young robot, just freshly built off the assembly line some five years ago. Varian was in his late twenties, and although his best friend was a robot, he made a living out of playing jazz, arranging, and composing. He helped Bird find gigs, and oftentimes they would play together in the same bill, either in the same band, or in different groups. They were quite simpatico you would say. With his help, Bird would release his own album as a leader and composer, and he would help arrange and even perform on it. Times were good. However there was one issue to contend with. 

Humans couldn't stand Bird's playing. Although this was the world of tomorrow, people weren't used to the idea of robots as artists, especially talented robots that had genius attached to their positronic circuits. I'm speaking metaphorically of course. Humans still only saw robots as vehicles of labor, not of art or performance. Such was the fate of our virtuoso saxophone playing robot, nicknamed Bird because he loves Charlie Parker but whose actual name was Sigma IV, a robot originally designed as a family robot. Eventually, Sigma IV got tired of the family robot gig and found out that he wanted to be an artist. 

He had been listening to Charlie Parker for a long time. His first family had tons of jazz records and they would play them often. He learned to love the sound of the saxophone and the bebop era in general. He also loved free jazz era Coltrane, Ornette Coleman, Eric Dolphy, Monk, Dizzy, Bird (his favorite), Miles, all the cats. Eventually he figured out that he had to be a jazz musician, it became his goal. He bought a sax and started practicing all the time. Eventually, he became really good, and he pulled a LeRoi Jones and changed his name to Bird. 

Nobody had ever heard of a robot playing jazz before, so Bird was in for some major backlash. He was the first of what would become a societal norm. But that's far down the line from when this story takes place...

The Day the Earth Stood Still

The Day the Earth Stood Still is a science fiction film from 1951 (in black and white), 20th Century Fox, produced by Julian Blaustein, and directed by Robert Wise. The movie stars Michael Rennie, Patricia Neal, Billy Gray, Hugh Marlowe, and Sam Jaffe. The film was inspired by a short story called Farewell to the Master by Harry Bates. The score was composed by Bernard Herrmann. 

The film is about this humanoid alien named Klaatu. He comes to earth in a spaceship accompanied by an eight-foot robot named Gort. He has an important message for the entire human race. Klaatu only gets to speak through a few sentences before some lunatic shoots him down, blood oozing out of his shoulder. 

Klaatu goes to a hospital where he's treated by doctors ("He makes me look like a third world witch doctor!") but the doctors eventually learn that Klaatu has healed himself with some sort of futuristic healing salve. He gets himself out of there, mysteriously. The government was not going to let Klaatu go off and do his own thing. Their primary directive was to keep him imprisoned for a while, maybe even do some experiments on him (the dark side of political and scientific research). They don't show on-screen how he leaves the hospital, as it was surrounded by army personnel. In the next scene we find him on the streets, at a dry cleaners. He takes a suit with the name Mr. Carpenter on it, his new human identity. 

He finds lodging in a sort of boarding house, using the name Mr. Carpenter. There's a boy and her mother there that Klaatu becomes involved in. He babysits the son while the mother is off with a guy (boyfriend, businessman) who wants to marry her. While exploring the city Klaatu asks the kid who the most important person in the world is. He says some scientist. So off they go the scientists's house. 

Klaatu tells the scientist that he needs to bring together all the greatest minds of Earth to the spaceship and there he will give a speech outlining a message for the future of human civilization. There's some political and relationship stuff that happens in between that happening. For example the mother's boyfriend suspects Klaatu is the alien (who everybody is looking for) and he informs the authorities. Consequently the mother dumps her boyfriend and goes off with our alien main character. 

In the end Klaatu ends up getting shot (again!). But this time Gort (the eight-foot tall robot) comes to his rescue, doing a lot of damage in the meantime. Klaatu had told the mother some alien language words that she needed to say to Gort if anything was to happen to him. So she ends up saying the magick alien words and the robot calms down and stops destroying everything. 

Gort picks up the mother and they go in the spaceship. Gort places Klaatu is some sort of plasma beam generator healing tank and it makes a bunch of melodious beeping and tea-pot kettle-esque sounds. My friends really liked that sound effect and scene in particular, although I found it to be quite jarring. Klaatu starts breathing again and the gun wound is but a blood spot on his suit.

He puts on his alien clothes, this sort of chrome sports suit and goes to address the greatest minds of Earth. He warns them about their tendency to war and violence. And that if they keep it up Earth will be blown asunder. He doesn't really explain much beyond this, its almost as if his entire being for going to Earth was more of a warning, which the Earthlings could construe as a sort of threat. 

After that he goes back into the ship, which causes the smartest Earthlings to run in fear, ironic. Klaatu and the mother fly off into space. The End in cool science fiction letters. Cool movie. 

A movie like this is quite stylized for its time period, the 50's. Its a sort of old school science fiction when science fiction was still in the ghetto. The characters are sympathetic, understanding, and realistic. The idea of an alien coming to warn Earthlings about their nature and future is a popular idea. The movie does a great job of developing Klaatu and the ways in which he learns to work with humans from a different civilization from his own. I think I got a lot out of that idea from the movie. 

The film can be found on Netflix. 

Klaatu: I must admit I'm a little confused. 

The Machine Stops

The Machine Stops is a science fiction short story written by E.M. Forster in 1909 for the Oxford and Cambridge Review. At 12,000 words its pretty detailed. This isn't your third wave science fiction folks, which is what I'm more used to.

Here we have a civilization that lives in honeycomb-like underground cities. People don't touch each other, not even for handshakes or hugs. People have become anxious when it comes to non-virtual meetings. Each pod that people live in comes with one book, The Book of the Machine. All other books and information are electronic. "All other info is electronic, and the forests, Forster explains, "had been destroyed during the literature epoch for the purpose of making newspaper pulp." The Book not only instructs which button to push when, but alleviates the trepidations of life in the Machine." (Wired) 

The story focuses on a mother and her son. The mother is a lecturer (I think she teaches music of certain civilizations) that gives these lectures from inside a room that is controlled by machines, much like how today we can do tons of things in the comfort of our homes, behind our computer screens, Iphones, and television screens. Her son is against the Machine, the electronics that give the people everything they need, from beds, email, to video (a prehistoric FaceMeet, where you can video call people). The people live underground with no sunlight of course but they can go to the surface, if they wear the proper attire (facemasks, the air can kill them) and if they have permission from the Government. We learn that this guy makes illegal trips to the surface often. He's quite the resistance type. 

Even scholarly trips to the surface are not allowed. Experts get their information about the surface from the Machine, a sort of proto-google. The Machine doesn't sustain itself forever. Life is not getting better. The music starts to get blurbs and bad quality sounds. The water has a smell. The Government says they're fixing the problems with the Machine but the repairs needed exceed the damage that keeps accumulating.

On the final day Vashti (our mother character) isn't doing so well. She's horrified to see whats outside her cubicle.

She whirled around, praying to be saved from this, at any rate, kissing the Book, pressing button after button....
An airship ... crashed downwards, exploding as it went, rending gallery after gallery with its wings of steel. For a moment they saw the nations of the dead, and, before they joined them, scraps of the untainted sky.

And I thought working a nine to five everyday for the rest of my life was scary. 

Here we have a science fiction dystopian sort of story that looks similar to the world we live in today. If all the computers in the world crashed right now the entire world would go into chaos. We're reliant upon these machines for everyday life. Could you live without a smartphone? I don't even own one and never have. We think we can do without it (modern technology) but most Americans would never put themselves through that. For them it would be torture, even for myself. Have we really empowered the machines to the degree that we've become weaker as humans? Perhaps that was what Forster was going for. Nevertheless it certainly makes for interesting science fiction writing. Everyone that likes science fiction and uses computers should read this short story, there's a lot to be gained from its dark brooding mentality about technology.

Read the full story here.