Random Story – What happened to the pill guy?

This is just an odd little story from my life.

As a nerdy kid growing up in 80’s and early 90’s, I watched a lot of PBS.  There was Nova and Scientific American Frontiers and several other science shows.  If the topic was about space, I almost certainly watched it, but I watched most of them regardless of their topic.  Having been over thirty years, I’m sure I’ve forgotten most of what I watched, or whatever I’ve learned has just become part of the mass of “Things I know, but I don’t know how I know them.” But there are a few random fragments that, for some reason, I remember.  For example.

I don’t know what show it was, or if it was late 80’s or early 90’s, but there was one episode on longevity.  I think overall it dealt with the various ways people were trying to live longer.  I don’t remember, but it’s likely there was a section on people eating a particular diet, or people doing things like tai chi, or whatever.  But the one I remember was this guy taking vitamins.

I can’t remember if this guy (I’m 99% certain it was a guy) was a doctor or just some health enthusiast, but somehow he came to the conclusion that more vitamins somehow made you live longer.  I’m not talking about just taking two multivitamins a day, or whatever.  He was taking like 50X the daily recommended amounts.  And not just of Vitamin C, but like, all of them.  He had ones he took in the morning, ones in the afternoon, and ones in the evening.  I think there was a scene where he had a garbage bag of the vitamin bottles he emptied each week.  But the scene I do remember is him sitting on his couch reading a book, and on an end table there’s a little candy dish with the evening mix.  And every few minutes, he’d just grab one and swallow it, without water or anything. 

For some reason, that image has stuck with me for … over three decades.  And I have to wonder what happened to him?  He was … fifty, or whatever, so it’s possible he’s still alive.  Or, he could have died shortly after that show from a … Vitamin A overdose.  Or, he might have some role in the current regime’s Department of Health and Human Services.

Short story – “A Sealed Fate”

 

“A Sealed Fate”

A bored young man wearing only a T-shirt reading “Bank robber” stood in a space just big enough for two people.  The ceiling – while not so low as to make him stoop – was uncomfortably low and the walls were painted in the blandest beige imaginable.  The only other thing currently in the room was a counter high on the wall he faced quickly approaching zero.

When the counter hit 0:00, several things happened at once.  A folded T-shirt appeared in the man’s right hand, a door appeared below the counter, and the counter reset to 5:00 and began counting down.  But the main thing that happened was a bright flash of reddish light deposited a naked, older woman in the space.

In a monotone, the man began, “You died and were-”

The woman screamed and slapped him.  “What have you done to me?  Where am I?” She turned around, and realized she was naked.  She tried to cover herself while screaming and punching the man.

After about a minute of silently taking her punches, he suddenly yelled, “Shut up!”

This stunned the woman and she backed up, as far as she could.

The man then explained, “I did nothing to you.  You died and were sent to Hell.”

The woman started to argue, but stopped herself.  Shaking her head, she said, “No, no.  I don’t belong in Hell.  I should be in Heaven.”

“Sure.  Anyway,” handing her the shirt, the man continued, “everyone gets a shirt that explains why they are here in Hell.  It’s not the main reason, but a big one.  For example, I hated the idea of a 9 to 5, so I decided I’d rob a bank to make easy money.  Only I got shot and ended up here where I’ll spend the next few thousand years welcoming people to Hell and giving them a shirt.  So take your shirt Miss,” here he unfolded her shirt and read “‘Trump supporter, even after he went full fascist,’ and go through that door to your eternal damnation.  And hurry up, because,” here he pointed at the counter reading 3:13, “when that hits zero, another person will be transported in, even if you’re still here.  And that sucks.”

The woman reluctantly took the shirt.  Shaking her head, she said, “No.  It shouldn’t be like this.  These aren’t Pearly Gates, and you’re no Saint Peter.”

The man sighed.  “Having died in 1973, I don’t know who this Trump is, but apparently, he’s a fascist.  And if you supported him, then you are to.  And you wonder why you ended up in Hell?  Why would Saint Peter waste his time on someone who’s fate is already sealed?”

The woman thought for a moment, then said, “No.  I refuse-”

“Just go through the fucking door you bitch,” the man yelled.  “Find out what Hell has in store for a fascist, and give me a minute’s peace.”

Why I don’t have issues with trans people

I’m not an asshole.

Another reason – that will take longer to explain – is that I do believe that many of our current problems will be solved by technology.  Setting up newer problems that will then need to be solved by newer technology, and so on.  And when I say solved by technology, I mean actual problems actually solved.  None of this, bitcoin powered AI pills to give you a bigger dick, or whatever the latest snake oil the techbros are selling.  The technology I’m talking about is once a year you go to the doctor who gives you a shot that is guaranteed to wipe out 99% of any cancers you were developing.

What I picture would be in such an anti-cancer shot would be thousands of nano machines that would be programmed to hunt down any cancerous cells.  If they find one, they either destroy it themselves, or set off some signal so your immune system comes in and destroys it.  Once we figure out how to do such a thing, it will take a few decades for all the clinical trials to show that it’s safe, during which time the technology would only improve, probably by many factors. 

Another possible use for medical nano machines would be building bones.  They might start for people with weak bones as the nano machines slowly build up the bones, but eventually they’d be used to fix breaks.  At first, these would be slow, maybe only shaving a few days off the time needed to wear a cast, but after a decade or so, it could be you could break a leg, go to the hospital, and walk out the next day as good as new. 

Of course, medical nano machines wouldn’t be used just for life saving stuff, they’d eventually be used for cosmetic procedures.  If they can fix leg bones, they can also make changes to the bone structure of one’s face.  Again, at first such procedures would be expensive and take a lot of time and need to be carried out in a doctor’s office, but over the decades as the technology improves, it will get to the point such stuff can be done at home.

To bring back the point of this post on why I don’t have issues with trans people, is that I firmly believe that, not a hundred years from now but almost certainly two hundred years from now, the technology – of nano machines as well as genetic alterations – will exist for people to basically be shapeshifters.  Not becoming six different people as you walk down the sidewalk, or turning into a giraffe, but more like punching in tomorrow’s body in your Chango-Tron before going to bed and waking up in an altered body.  A lot of people would feel no need to use such technology.  Some will do it occasionally, for a laugh or for sex.  Some will experiment with a dozen bodies until they discover the real them.  And some will discover the real them is one of constant change. 

So if I think the future of humanity is one where everyone will be able to change their body in any way they see fit, why would I have an issue with people doing that now with our limited technology?  Not to mention my general view that people are people, and only assholes should be treated like assholes. 

A true statement

The other night at work, I found something interesting on a shelf.

Not the dime, the message taped to it.

Even thought I’m one to pick up any change I see, I put this back on the shelf in the hope its true target would find it.  I live in a very red part of the state, so the odds of a Trump voter finding it are pretty high.  And I wonder what they will do.  Will they not even bother to read it, will they get super angry, or will they dismiss it only to be reminded of it months from now when they’re paying $20 a gallon for gas while dumbass claims the way out of the recession is another tax cut for billionaires.

A couple weeks ago, there was a customer in a Trump hat complaining about how expensive stuff was.  He then looked at me and stated, “It’s only going to get worse.” All I could do was clench my jaw and nod to keep from saying, “No shit Sherlock!” Of course, it’s possible the guy didn’t feel any remorse, and is one of those that is happy to crash the economy because “It will hurt the woke/trans/Mexicans – or whoever their boogeyman/scapegoat is this week – more.  Somehow.”

I don’t know if putting out such a message will make a difference, but I might try it.  Although, I may have to only use pennies.

Fake dreams

I know people don’t care to hear about someone’s dreams, but I recently had an interesting experience I wish to share.  And a dream is a central point of it.

Anyway, I recently had a dream where some of my siblings found some badminton equipment.  My mom suggested having some sort of family tournament, but my brother pointed out that the last time we played tennis, Tim beat us 26-1.

A couple things about this.  First off, it has probably been forty some years since I’ve played badminton, and I don’t believe I’ve ever played tennis.  Secondly, I had the feeling that this was a cousin Tim and this happened at a family reunion, but I don’t think I have any cousins named Tim.  I went to school with a Tim, but I barely spoke with him then and haven’t spoken to him in thirty years.  The only other Tim I can think of, is a few years ago the manager at work was out for a few weeks for a medical issue, so the corporation sent in this other manager to cover.  This was a Tim, who was a bit of an asshole.  And lastly, in regards to the dream, I couldn’t care less about tennis, but 26-1 doesn’t seem like a tennis score.  Which leads me to think that “cousin” Tim was also a bit of an asshole and just kept playing until someone managed to score a point.

Now that that is all out of the way, the interesting thing I noticed was when I was groggily half-awake after this dream.  Because I had the overwhelming feeling that the whole “cousin” Tim story came from another dream I had like a month ago.  A dream I have no memory of, except as this vague reference.

This leads to two possibilities.  One, there is a part of our brains that remembers our dreams better than our awake brains does.  This doesn’t seem likely, because what would be the point.  So the more likely second possibility, is that when we dream of real events, our brain can pull from our real memories of them, but whenever a dream comes up with a “cousin Tim beat us at tennis at a family reunion” type event, the brain sort of panics when it can’t find the memory of that, so it just goes, “Oh, that was just a dream.”

I was really interested in this, because it seems once a month or so, I’ll wake up with the feeling that the dream I just had is a sequel of sorts to some other, forgotten dream.  I never looked too far into it before, because I think it always happened when I’m half-awake and things are always a blur.  But this time, for whatever reason, I was just awake enough to notice something was weird. 

I’ve spent the last five minutes trying to work “It was all a dream” into the ending of this in a satisfactory manner, but “It was all a dream” is rarely satisfactory.

Short story – “Someday”

“Someday”

David and Rob sat on their couch, each on their phone.  Occasionally, one would sigh or mutter something under their breath.  Then the doorbell rang.

David looked at Rob.  “Were you expecting something.”

“No.”

David started to get up, but Rob stopped him.  Setting his phone on the arm of the couch, he said, “I need a break from doomscrolling.”

Rob walked from the room, but a few seconds later, David heard a muttered, “Fuck.”

“What is it?”

“It’s John, from across the street.”

David jumped up and started towards the door, but stopped.  He quickly started recording a video, and then held his phone by his side, ready to bring it up if he needed to document the encounter.  At the front door, they nodded to each other and then Rob opened it.

John stood a foot or so back from the door.  He didn’t seem to know what to do with his hands which clasped and unclasped multiple times.  “I’m sorry to disturb you,” he said.  “I just wanted to tell you that I am sorry.  This was never my vision for America.  I was conned.  I-”

John stopped and took a breath.  “I know we’ll never agree on … a lot of things, but I hope you’ll believe me when I say that I no longer support Trump.  He … he needs to be removed from office.  I know that won’t immediately fix all the damage he has done, but it’s a start.”

For a moment, the three men just stood, looking at one another.

John coughed.  “Anyway, I wanted to say I’m sorry I ever supported him, and hopefully someday, years from now I’m sure, we could all just have beers.  As neighbors.

“That’s all I wanted to say.” John gave a brief smile, then turned and walked away.

Random Story – Infinite coupons

This is just an odd little story from my life.

It was probably fifteen or so years ago, I got a coupon for these trail mix type things.  It probably came in one of those envelopes of coupons – 99% of which I had no interest in – that places sent out.  I don’t know if they still do that or not.  Anyway, there were five or six pouches of trail mix that came in a cardboard box.  I was on the lookout for something new, so I tried them and enjoyed them.  What was nice was I could have a few pouches at my desk at work, and if I got a little hungry, I could just eat one.

I can’t remember if it was with that first box, but very soon after I started buying them that they started putting coupons on the inside of the box.  I think it was a save a $1 when you buy two boxes type.  Since I enjoyed them, that’s what I started doing.  I’d use one coupon to buy two boxes and get two coupons.  Use one of them, and get two more.  At first, I figured it was a short run promotion, and eventually they’d stop putting the coupons in the box.  But it kept going.  The first coupons were good until the end of June, or whatever, but then they became the end of September, and then December.  And they just kept going.

I had a little table by the door where I kept my keys, and I kept a pile of these coupons.  And every time I went to get groceries, I’d take one and buy two more boxes.  For I don’t know how long these pouches just became my generic snack.  When the coupons were getting old, I’d take a handful of them and leave them on the shelf at the store to maybe start someone else down this road of madness. 

Eventually, I stopped buying them because, well, I got tired of them.  But a year or so later, I was nostalgic for them, but I couldn’t find them in the store.  I can’t remember what their name was, so I don’t know if they went out of business or what.