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Wanna criticize me?This is the place.
MEGACITY - Prologue
Friday, July 15, 2005
Another quarrel erupted from the adjacent quadrant. They were shouting about finances again. It looked like it was going to be just another normal day in Section 3.
TJ pushed himself off his thin mattress. It creaked beneath him, like a prayer from the springs to be released from the torture they were being put through.
It was an old mattress. It also was once a rich blue, but through the years and many washings, the mattress was now faded. In addition to the tears along it, there were beer stains from a few nights ago.
TJ rubbed his eyes and sighed. He was still groggy and was in dire need of more sleep, but his next-door neighbors had wakened him as usual, with their constant bickering.
From experience, TJ knew they would still be at it for another two hours or so, after which they would come to compromise and have make-up sex on their couch, which had been used so many times, its springs were non-existent.
TJ plodded over to his bathroom, a small ten-foot stall with just enough amenities to keep him clean.
He rubbed the stubble forming on his chin. He hadn’t shaved in a while. Picking up his worn grey toothbrush, TJ began mechanically scrubbing his teeth. His eyes were still heavy with sleep, and he left them half-closed while he went through his daily cleaning ritual.
The water had the aftertaste of gin. Somebody must have spiked the water supply again.
Pulling off his T-shirt, which clung unceremoniously to his sticky body, TJ shifted slightly to the right, now directly under showerhead. He reached out blindly and hit the first button his hand came to.
A gush of freezing water poured down upon him, like all of Neptune’s wrath. TJ jumped, hitting his head on another button, this time unleashing a torrent of hot water, which hurt.
TJ jumped out of the bathroom, his body dripping wet with hot and cold water. Cursing, he looked down and noticed a pair of drenched boxers still covered him. Stripping that last piece of clothing off, TJ popped back into the shower and twisted a knob, which stopped the water.
Hitting both the buttons at the same time, he managed to get a steady flow of lukewarm water, which was invitingly soothing.
Wrapping himself in a towel, TJ stepped out of the shower once again. He was now fully awake.
His quadrant was as it had been. Four rooms: A bathroom, a bedroom, a kitchen and a study. There was also a small greeting area right in front of his door.
The quadrant was uninteresting in design. While TJ had tried to put in a few homely touches, it still remained about as bleak as before. It was made of a thin aluminum structure, which were now cheap thanks to the Friday Revolution. The metallic walls seemed to have a strange green tint to them, and the doorways were all too short.
It wasn’t the ideal home, but it a far cry batter than what TJ had endured back on Earth.
He got dressed and glanced out his window, Mars was as barren as it had been the day before, and TJ doubted it would change much over the next few weeks.
Grabbing his wool coat, TJ opened his front door, which let out a moan like that of a dying giraffe. He stepped out into the glare of the floodlights and into the hustle and bustle of another day on Mars.
TJ pushed himself off his thin mattress. It creaked beneath him, like a prayer from the springs to be released from the torture they were being put through.
It was an old mattress. It also was once a rich blue, but through the years and many washings, the mattress was now faded. In addition to the tears along it, there were beer stains from a few nights ago.
TJ rubbed his eyes and sighed. He was still groggy and was in dire need of more sleep, but his next-door neighbors had wakened him as usual, with their constant bickering.
From experience, TJ knew they would still be at it for another two hours or so, after which they would come to compromise and have make-up sex on their couch, which had been used so many times, its springs were non-existent.
TJ plodded over to his bathroom, a small ten-foot stall with just enough amenities to keep him clean.
He rubbed the stubble forming on his chin. He hadn’t shaved in a while. Picking up his worn grey toothbrush, TJ began mechanically scrubbing his teeth. His eyes were still heavy with sleep, and he left them half-closed while he went through his daily cleaning ritual.
The water had the aftertaste of gin. Somebody must have spiked the water supply again.
Pulling off his T-shirt, which clung unceremoniously to his sticky body, TJ shifted slightly to the right, now directly under showerhead. He reached out blindly and hit the first button his hand came to.
A gush of freezing water poured down upon him, like all of Neptune’s wrath. TJ jumped, hitting his head on another button, this time unleashing a torrent of hot water, which hurt.
TJ jumped out of the bathroom, his body dripping wet with hot and cold water. Cursing, he looked down and noticed a pair of drenched boxers still covered him. Stripping that last piece of clothing off, TJ popped back into the shower and twisted a knob, which stopped the water.
Hitting both the buttons at the same time, he managed to get a steady flow of lukewarm water, which was invitingly soothing.
Wrapping himself in a towel, TJ stepped out of the shower once again. He was now fully awake.
His quadrant was as it had been. Four rooms: A bathroom, a bedroom, a kitchen and a study. There was also a small greeting area right in front of his door.
The quadrant was uninteresting in design. While TJ had tried to put in a few homely touches, it still remained about as bleak as before. It was made of a thin aluminum structure, which were now cheap thanks to the Friday Revolution. The metallic walls seemed to have a strange green tint to them, and the doorways were all too short.
It wasn’t the ideal home, but it a far cry batter than what TJ had endured back on Earth.
He got dressed and glanced out his window, Mars was as barren as it had been the day before, and TJ doubted it would change much over the next few weeks.
Grabbing his wool coat, TJ opened his front door, which let out a moan like that of a dying giraffe. He stepped out into the glare of the floodlights and into the hustle and bustle of another day on Mars.
Sermons Of Death: 1
Thursday, July 14, 2005
Death isn’t what you think it is. It doesn’t just end with you seeing black and your life slipping away into oblivion.
Death isn’t dying in itself. As long as the brain has the capacity to operate and stay alive, the person isn’t dead. Even through brain death.
You see, what you see and hear around you, is first passed through your brain and then forwarded to you, that is, your consciousness and sub-consciousness.
So when you die, it isn’t you that is dying, it is your body, your carrier. As long as your brain can support even your sub-consciousness, you are still alive, you can hear and see. You won’t be able to touch since you have no definite position, so you touch everything and nothing, at the same time.
Ever heard of those stories of people passing through beautiful fields, filled with flowers, right before they died?
What they said was true, or as true as they could know. What they saw was what you would see if your body died for a while.
Since your carrier could no longer hold you, your consciousness/sub-consciousness would be free to wander as it pleased, sort of like a projected apparition. The only difference between you and the famed ‘ghosts’ is that since you have discarded your carrier, you have nothing to mark you. So you move freely, but no-one can see you.
Now, about those fields that those people claimed to see. Those fields were nothing special; in fact they were the area around them, rather, their carrier.
You see, in that moment where they ‘die’, the consciousness realizes that it has lost its host, and everything seems so much more beautiful, just because they are doomed to die a true-death. Most probably flower-fields are considered calm and beautiful, so when the person returns to his or her carrier, what the consciousness has seen is copied onto the carrier. Unfortunately, the body cannot comprehend how the surroundings it sees around it can be so beautiful, so it associates the beauty with a common beautiful place, the peace and serenity of the field.
Out-of-body visits, or whatever you would call them are not too different. Just that since the consciousness knows that its host isn’t doomed to die, it perceives everything as per-normal.
Death isn’t dying in itself. As long as the brain has the capacity to operate and stay alive, the person isn’t dead. Even through brain death.
You see, what you see and hear around you, is first passed through your brain and then forwarded to you, that is, your consciousness and sub-consciousness.
So when you die, it isn’t you that is dying, it is your body, your carrier. As long as your brain can support even your sub-consciousness, you are still alive, you can hear and see. You won’t be able to touch since you have no definite position, so you touch everything and nothing, at the same time.
Ever heard of those stories of people passing through beautiful fields, filled with flowers, right before they died?
What they said was true, or as true as they could know. What they saw was what you would see if your body died for a while.
Since your carrier could no longer hold you, your consciousness/sub-consciousness would be free to wander as it pleased, sort of like a projected apparition. The only difference between you and the famed ‘ghosts’ is that since you have discarded your carrier, you have nothing to mark you. So you move freely, but no-one can see you.
Now, about those fields that those people claimed to see. Those fields were nothing special; in fact they were the area around them, rather, their carrier.
You see, in that moment where they ‘die’, the consciousness realizes that it has lost its host, and everything seems so much more beautiful, just because they are doomed to die a true-death. Most probably flower-fields are considered calm and beautiful, so when the person returns to his or her carrier, what the consciousness has seen is copied onto the carrier. Unfortunately, the body cannot comprehend how the surroundings it sees around it can be so beautiful, so it associates the beauty with a common beautiful place, the peace and serenity of the field.
Out-of-body visits, or whatever you would call them are not too different. Just that since the consciousness knows that its host isn’t doomed to die, it perceives everything as per-normal.
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