Thursday, February 27, 2020
Preppers and rice!
I am going to talk today about a little thing I like to call, "You bought WHAT?"
I was in the Army for 10 years. Well, National Guard AND the Army for a total of 10 years. Point is, I spent a lot of time being dirty and hungry in some really unpleasant places. After my time in, I've become fond of things like being clean, eating food... not getting shot at... you know, things like that. And lately, I keep watching the news and I keep seeing a lot of panic talk about Coronavirus and other stuff. And I believe it is strictly panic talk. I don't put a lot of stock into the doomsday people who claim that this will be "THE NEXT PLAGUE!!" - those people can piss right off.
Labels:
afraid,
Army,
coronavirus,
false fear,
fear,
food,
goals,
Mental Health,
pandemic,
prepper,
writing
Monday, February 17, 2020
Frank - A Short Story
“Frank”
Written by: Benjamin W. Bass
“Can you tell me your name?”
“Frank... er, Francis James Ackerman... People just call me Frank.”
“May I call you Frank?”
“Yes.”
“Good. Do you know why you are here, Frank?”
“I was told you could help me get a job.”
“That we can, Frank. We help people get jobs.”
“That’s good.”
“You signed the red-form, right, Frank?”
“Yeah…”
“That’s good. Am I coming through the earpiece all right, Frank?”
“Yes. I hear you fine.”
“Yes. I hear you fine.”
“Good, Frank. We’re about to start the procedure.”
“That’s good. Will I be awake the whole time?”
“More or less, Frank.”
“What’s it like?”
“I’ve been told it’s a little disorienting, but painless.”
“That’s good. I guess.”
“We’re starting the calibration, Frank, you should feel…”
“I can feel it. What kind of job will I get?”
“Based on your scores, Frank, the computer will pick a job that suites your creativity, skills and…”
“I think I’m falling.”
“Right, Frank. You may feel like you’re falling a little, but I assure you, you’re fine.”
“I’ll say. Wow. That’s… ungh!”
“Yeah, Frank, I may have lied about the painless part.”
“Dick.”
“Sorry, Frank. Moving up to forty-percent.”
“I can remember things.”
“That’s good, Frank, just let it happen. Don’t try to hold on to any of the memories. Just let them in.”
“I… Oh, god.”
“Just relax, Frank.”
“This isn’t…”
“Let it in, Frank. Let the machine do its job. Up to sixty-percent now.”
“I…”
“Doing great, Frank. Almost there.”
“I…. Hngggh.”
“Up to ninety. Pushing to one hundred.”
“AH! I…”
“Full strength now, Frank. Just hang in there.”
“Can’t… told…”
“I’m sure you were told many things, Frank. We’re almost there.”
“FUUUCK!!”
“And, go!”
“…”
“How’s it read? Good? Okay. Private Ackerman, can you hear me?”
“What?”
“Can you hear me, Private?”
“Y… yes. Yes, sir!”
“Good, Private. How do you feel?”
“I have a headache, sir.”
“That’ll pass soon, son.”
“If you say so, sir.”
“Private?”
“Yes, sir?”
“What is your name?”
“Private Ackerman, Francis James. U.N.E.F.! Serial Number 45-34K-J1, sir!”
“That’s excellent, Private. The restraints on your arms will now release. Do not touch the connectors on your head. you’ll need them. Proceed out the door, turn left and follow the yellow line to advanced combat training.”
“Yes sir. Thank you, sir.”
“You’re welcome, Private. Send in the next applicant, nurse.”
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