Day 152: Write a message to the future.Posted: June 1, 2011
I have nothing to say to you.
You’re all either living in thatch-roofed huts and scraping by on squirrel and wild apples, because society collapsed under its own weight between us and you, or you’re all cybernetic super-people with no senses of humor, and you won’t get any of my jokes, which are both numerous and quite funny.
If you’ve all been swept up by the Singularity and turned into prosthetic-enhanced Nietzschean super-people, good for you, I guess. It doesn’t sound all that awesome to me, but I’m a Luddite and I don’t like things that are fun or exciting, either.
My guess, though, is that you’re all living in huts, because western civilization is probably going to crumble any day now. Too many people, too much stuff, not enough vegetables, bad television, ugly shoes, poorly-designed cities, and not enough beer. It’s like someone built a model of the Empire State building out of dominos, and then put it on top of a slightly-rotten orange: it doesn’t make sense in the first place, and it’s a pretty bad idea on top of that, and there’s no way it’s going to work. So in light of your post-disaster existences, I have some advice for you:
- Build your hut near running water.
- Don’t shit upstream.
- Skin the squirrels before you cook them.
- If you don’t have a gun with which to defend yourself — and you’ll want one, because you’re living in a Hobbesian state of nature, and everyone is trying to kill everyone else — I say, if you haven’t got a gun, kill someone who does and take theirs.
- You should have stockpiled seeds and gardening tools.
- Enjoy yourself while you can, because you’re probably going to die in your early thirties (if you make it that far) from a minor infection that is totally treatable now, but not in the future — your now — because there are no antibiotics.
- Nobody likes you.
Alright, that last bit isn’t really advice, in the traditional sense, but it’s still a good thing for you to keep in mind.
I’m sorry that I didn’t do more to stop the collapse while there was still time — but honestly, there’s not really anything I could have done, and I had better things to do, anyway, like drink beer and watch bad television and look at pictures of cats on the internet.
Those cat pictures aren’t going to look at themselves. Speaking of which, I’ve wasted as much of my time on you as I’m going to, future people, and now I’m moving on to something more important: sitting at the airport, staring into space, thinking about how awesome and meaningful my life is.
Some dude from the past.