Sunday, February 26, 2006

Transmissions from Frank

Frank’s Message to Mrs. Tingier’s Fifth Grade Science Class

There is some seriously perverted shit going on in space. Take away the effect of a basic law of physics and people get very creative. Sure scientists and technicians have made great use of absolute freezing and zero G. “Fusion fuels space™”, right? That’s why I’m up here, that’s why the controlling AI is up here, and that’s why you’ll spend five minutes to hear me grate on your tender sensibilities. All that is fine and good and supports the flaccid utopian time sink, you’re all so enthused about, but the majority of time spent in space and I mean the vast majority, is spent in shameless and unabashed genital stimulation. We are an inventive species. I keep to myself for the most part, but I’ve accidentally ponged my way into one of these low g areas they use. They don’t like zero G, most of them need a little gravity assisted friction to make it work. So they tend to congregate on the outer edge of the stations where there is nearly a quarter of a G. They think they’re so clever, they call these “G spots”, search on that term with “space” or “station” and you’ll get way more hits than you’d imagine.

On the other hand, don’t. It’s disgusting. These perverts live healthier and longer than any other humans in the history of mankind, but their minds are so wet with rot, they must itch like a mother fucker. In space we really have the extremes; we achieved the creation of a sentient AI, which propelled humanity into a peaceful period now in its third century, where the only commodity left, the only currency left to us is time, and how do we spend our precious time, copulation. It makes me want to suck a case of tubes just thinking about our goddamned good luck. There was a moral lesson in there somewhere, find it yourself, I’m tired and don’t think a single one of you will make anything out of your lives that doesn’t involve vaginal fluids.

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