A QUICK LOOK FOR FUTURE HEROICS

this is a silly story i started a long time ago. need to fix it up. any ideas?

DISCLAIMER

These documents have been collected and produced by myself. It is the 23rd century, despite the printing date of these articles. The government is lying to you. The question may arise as to how I have been privy to some of this information. Basically, I have more cameras than Big Brother. I have also included documents of relevance by a higher surveillance format that interestingly emerged recently through the internet and over the course of these events and circumstances. Articles that are not noted as replications are dramatisations by myself, reproduced from certain limited technology, and should be considered as such.


1. SETTING THE SCENE FOR TIM SMITH

General Tardy was still reeling from the shock of the days football results when he carelessly but quite deliberately ordered the 37th division to move into Trenchwood.
Trenchwood was a small town that had been offering a small resistance to the order. It was nothing serious. They were unarmed, and due to the conscription some months earlier, largely populated (although their population was not large) by women and children. The only people there strong enough to wield any object capable of causing any possible concern for armour clad, laser guided rifle wielding, professionally trained military soldiers was either born with, or had developed a physical/mental defect of such a debilitating manner that they were most likely to incapacitate themselves before any military involvement was necessitated.

Tardy had briefly considered his other options. He could have simply starved the town, which was already happening of its own accord. However, Tardy was a man of action, and simply could neither stand, nor even sit at his desk and do nothing about it.
Besides, it was an ample occasion for his divisions to experiment with some of their new troop formation patterns, which it affords mentioning, when viewed from above were a spectacular sight to behold full of colours from husky auburns to interventional reds. Earlier in the revolution many divisions had come to close ends in their encounters, even with greater numbers and heavily superior fire power.
Tardy accounted this to a lack of ground experience amongst his troops. Most of the war had been fought from above with air raids and the latest fashion in fire works. The light shows were a great morale booster, if you were lucky enough to have a good seat.

Sitting at his desk, Tardy took up his copy of the Moran and searched for a passage. He needed comforting, the kind only the book could provide. It was easy to find what he needed as this particular page had taken quite a beating over the years and almost fell out of the book into his hands. He sat back and indulged.

“I serve action. He, or she, who I make no claim to know, who made me guides my hand. He (or she) made my hand, my feet, my mind, my will. I must follow my will for it is theirs who knows enough to care.”

With that, he thanked the lord for making him so wonderfully unfaithful to his wife as he dialled the number for his preferred escort agency.


2. GETTING TO TIM SMITH: NOW

Tim had no uniform, no medals, not even a collared shirt. He tried as hard as he could to avoid any reference to a group mentality. He was very aware of what a single individual was capable of, what atrocities could be expressed with a simple gesture, and shuddered at the thought of anyone combining their powers with another. This basic principle of Tim’s was disastrous for his sex life, as there were no bars, cafes, libraries, courtyards or any appropriate location for that matter to perform a mating dance in the small section of the forest bordering Trenchwood that he called his home. Here he had lived for nearly 16 years now, sustaining himself by the gifts of the earth. He preferred to refer to them as gifts these days. Earlier on he had held himself as ‘the butcher’, the sole plunderer of this small and delicate ecosystem. However after years of decapitating berries, trodding on ant’s penthouses and grounding the occasional bird, he could see little impact on his new home and decided that the butcher was not quite appropriate, and he was glad of this. When he had first arrived in the forest he had considered adopting a new name for himself, something more suitable to his new surroundings. His favourites were as follows:

1. Thievy Prune
2. Fowl (like “madonna”, just one word)
3. Proactive Vulture

Another that he wrestled with for some time was Manure. He loved the imagery of it but in the end had to put it down simply for its inseparability from Man, something he was running far away from.

On this day, Tim was running through the forest naked screaming GollyGollyGoodieGod, a game he had invented of the same name. It was a dance he performed when his food reserves were running low and he was preparing to hunt. To Tim this was an important ritual for maintaining the proper health of his environment, his mother, his community, as any creature stupid enough not to have fled the vicinity either for fear or simple revulsion was a member of this society that needed to be culled. Moving to the woods and wiping his arse with his own hands was not something that had affected Tim’s high personal standards in any way. When a day came that there was not a creature left after his game, he thought that he would willingly accept that he was then the resident that needed culling, a fact that he would find terribly hard to dispute immediately after running through the forest scaring away his only sustenance as his naked body tore on passing barbs and thorns.


3. GOD SENDS A GROUP EMAIL

Dear Humans.
Hi, God here. Now usually I don’t do this, take the time to address any person or species directly that is, but the universe is running out of raw elements for me play with and so day to day I’m finding myself with a bit more spare time on my hands. I’ve been catching up on my mail lately, and I see a lot of people have the same questions for me. “why have I forsaken them?”, “why do I punish the innocent and reward the savage?”, “why are we here at all?” and I’d like to take the time to answer these questions as best I can, and I hope this is of some use to those concerned. Firstly in response to the first two questions, I have to explain that I have been very busy lately. Expanding the universe at a constant rate is a very time demanding job and once I’ve made one planet I pretty much have to move on to the next in an instant, in all directions at once. If you’re wondering, the pay isn’t great or even existent (john:16 - you can be your own boss but you can’t write your own money) but I do get a lot of respect which personally I feel is more important. But I digress.
The common misunderstanding underlying these questions is what my job actually is. A lot of people seem to have it in your heads that my job revolves around each of you and your affairs, which it does not. I am a creator, not a caretaker. Therefore I have never forsaken you, don’t be so damn pathetic. That means that when the innocent are punished, that’s not me, that’s you. Sorry to be the bearer of such bad news but it is something that needed to be cleared up. As for the last question “why are we here at all?” I don’t quite have the answer for that one yet. Last time I saw your planet it was just a nice landscape painting with some microscopic amoeba breast-stroking all over the place. You guys are breaking news to me. What I’ll do for you is keep an eye on the situation in my spare time and let you know if I figure anything out.

Yours sincerely, God.

PS. Hope you weren’t expecting a longer response or explanation. I’m really not one for words. I’m more the action type.


4. GETTING BACK TO TIM: THEN

Tim needed a new start. Sure, now he had a degree, an access all areas real life pass, but he didn’t feel too excited about it. Most of his friends had finished up their studies before him, moved straight into a career. They were all half married and seemed half awake but the time he got to them at the end of the week. Before he could bother himself with any thought of a job he had his gap year, so that morning on waking he had set out to the travel agency on Burgundy Road and picked up every brochure covering the planet from banana republic to corporate penitentiary. There were quick co tiki tours that would take him around the safe strips of the better suburbs of badlands, and there were all out intensive prisoner exchange programs to help provide Tim with the life experience he felt he needed to implement his character, to make him the type of person who could get the right girl and keep his balance, having always a clear and distinct set of priorities and principles that guided his every just movement. This is what Tim was looking for, and a million questions answered cleanly and concisely was the only thing that could provide it.

With too many options staring at him, Tim made a quick decision and threw away every gloss printed pamphlet. If he could vaguely make out his own reflection then that state had too much of himself in it and too little of what he needed, which was everything else. Now he had a much smaller collection of cheap xerox’s and minimalist slips that read like message board notices.

A little place called Hades had a family portrait held at gunpoint printed crudely. “…come and stay”. Another was a simple folded sheet of A4 paper printed like a theatre program. It’s Visa required a 3 hour English exam focusing on classic literature and the performing arts. Apparently it was a subdivided sector of SafeLoq’s very successful network of Industrial States, commissioned to fulfil Safeloq’s legal cultural Requirements. A great part of Safeloq’s success was it’s branding, illustrating itself to the public as the ruthless economic power with the face of Bambi, the obvious choice. Tim took out some blue-tak and attached these to the wall above his desk. He didn’t know what he was looking for yet but at least he was getting closer to knowing where he was going.



5. GOD GETS BACK TO US

Dear Humans,

I’ve been listening to some of your Earth Radio lately and I have to say, the ‘Beatles’ rock! Hard days night is my absolute favorite. I always listen to it when I’m working.

Apart from the beatles I really can’t say it’s looking very good for you guys.

That is all.

Yours faithfully, God.

PS Jesus was a good bloke. Not my son. Wish he was. No reproductive organs on this unit whatsoever. I’m infinite. No need.

PPS I just learned that what I just wrote earlier is called a FAQ on your planet. I hope you enjoyed my FAQ, please keep in mind I’m only just learning your language now. Oh and I could do the translations myself, but if you really want to help me help you, could you translate this stuff into all the languages on your planet for me? That would really save me some time. Can I trust you with that? It’s pretty important stuff. You don’t really have a good track record with this kind of thing. I’m giving you a chance here.

I think I should mention I really have taken an interest in you guys, and I’m being sincere about that. I really wish I had more time for you guys. The interesting thing is that the only reason I really took a look was because you are the only other intelligent life to originate in your solar system. Mars the planet died out years ago, but those little critters moved on way before that. They are the most vicious savages inhabiting any of my works, working together to chase their obsession with power over the galaxies. You guys only seem to be killing each other. That really fascinates me. We’ll talk more about this later.