Friday, January 27, 2017

Microstory 505: New Mission to Keres Most Ambitious Yet

The Director of the Confederate Aerospace Department has officially announced a new voyage to the third planet in the solar system, tentatively scheduled for an 1834 launch. All missions to Keres thus far have involved exclusively scientists and researchers, and have lasted for stints no longer than two years. Director Ansaldi has made it clear that he believes space colonization to be the next logical step in human destiny. Ansaldi had this to say: “Keres doesn’t have everything a planet needs to support life, but it has enough. It has a magnetic field not unlike ours, and a thin atmosphere composed of the right gases in the wrong ratio. With work and time, it could be potentially just as habitable as our homeworld.” The work Ansaldi is referring to includes maneuvering asteroids and building megastructures the likes we’ve never seen before. And by time, he means a few hundred years. As technology advances, so does the speed and efficiency of any given task. However, something as large as a planet still needs a great deal of time to acclimate to any changes, not matter how wondrous. It is for this reason that CAD has begun plans to form a permanent settlement on Keres. Ansaldi’s assistant, and son, Deputy Director Ansaldi explained this further in an interview following the announcement. “The amount of effort and patience required to terraform an entire planet is daunting to anyone who won’t live past 500. In order to encourage this change, people must be given an incentive to begin something that won’t come to fruition until long after they die. One way we’ve decided to do this is to create a new nation. Keresites will be given full autonomy, along with Confederate privileges, from the get-go. This will be their home, and they will want to make it better.” Some have spoken out against this proposition, calling it manipulative. Noted scientist and television personality, Ivor Leonardson, a.k.a. Fancy Leo, microblogged on the topic during the conference. “they wnt 2go to ker? Sounds great if you wnt 2die there & nvr see ur family again & build giant reflectors da rest of ur life & not hav air.” Leonardson is referring to space mirrors that would need to be built to compensate for a lack of sufficient sunlight on the surface of Keres, particularly early on in the endeavor. It is so far too early to tell whether any of this will bear fruit, or even if CAD will be able to wrangle up enough cash for the project. It is as of yet unclear who will be taking part in the mission, but evidence points to some sort of lottery combined with desirable vocations.

Thursday, January 26, 2017

Microstory 504: Why Does the Destruction Destroy?

Separatist, extremist, terrorist. These are just some of the terms associated with the unnamed man known to most only as The Destruction. It seems that every week comes with a new story about one of The Destruction’s heinous crimes. I just spent four months as a faceless minion in The Destruction’s militia, under threat of eventual criminal prosecution, and I can tell you that it is not what you would expect. I’m planning both a long-form article about my experience, and possibly a later book, but I wanted to get out a few points. First of all, most—if not all—members of the militia legitimately believe in The Destruction’s cause, and this cause is not what you’ve probably heard. They do not believe in anarchy just for the sake of it, or so that they can run around doing whatever they want. Nor do they want to dismantle the establishment so that some sort of better society can rise from its ashes. What they really want is to create cracks in the system. He has indoctrinated his people into trusting in some sort of master plan. That’s right, folks, they have what you might call “true faith”. He treats his people well, providing for them food and luxurious shelter wherever they are. He never explains his orders, but they are always followed to the letter. Honestly, I couldn’t tell you why he’s never questioned. I was able to infiltrate his organization after speaking with a survivor from his group who was deprogrammed, and she cannot explain it either. The way she’s talked about it, though, it sounds almost hypnotic, like their minds were being controlled. I can’t speak to that, however. Perhaps I just wasn’t part of it for long enough. What I can tell you is that The Destruction is not as mysterious as he would have the public believe. He’s just a man. He was born of one mother, and one father. He grew up with both pain, and happiness. He sees problems with this world, and like most everybody, he thinks he knows how to fix it. That much is clear. He’s not creating all this fear for no reason; he’s doing it for a purpose. The answer to this article’s question is one that should not be answered, because it doesn’t matter. All that matters is finding a way of combating all that fear.

Wednesday, January 25, 2017

Microstory 503: Deering Method Ready for Human Patients

Metacorp—the organization responsible for maintaining oversight for all medical-based anomaly abilities—has announced a breakthrough in research. Few anomaly abilities inspired hope to as high a degree as those of one Francis Deering. She was born with the natural ability to switch her gender at will. Shapeshifting has proven to be nearly impossible, even in the fantastical world of anomalies, however Deering has always been the exception. Scientists at Metacorp spent years studying Deering’s biology, trying to figure out how she was able to do what she could do. The process was slow, but the scientific method dictates care and cautiousness. It is important to ensure that all discoveries hold up to rigorous testing, and that experiments can be replicated many times. There have also been ethical and legal issues to get over. Though sex-change operations have existed for years, any new type of procedure requires thorough review and discussion. A spokesman for the organization gathered press on the steps at the edge of Straton Pond earlier today, a symbolic gesture to assure the world that Metacorp and Bellevue are still very much in a cooperative relationship. The spokesman, Augustus Beutel, first thanked the crowd for their patience. Thought he did not give a reason as to why the conference started late, a source has implied that a small Operator cult had issued a threat elsewhere on campus. Please visit our crime section for more details on that story. Beutel declined questions from the audience, but said that Metacorp will be releasing a more comprehensive report on their website by the end of the week. We will provide a link to this information once it becomes available.

Tuesday, January 24, 2017

Microstory 502: Deformed Wolves Come Out of Hiding

Dark creatures from the woods have been reported in multiple villages all across the French countryside. Descriptions varied, but one thing these reports have in common is that the animals were all said to be wolf-life. These animals have all now come out of hiding and revealed themselves to the world. They seem to have human-like qualities as well, appearing to be some sort of cross-breed between wolves and humans. Leading philosophers are unable to come up with an explanation for their true nature, and claim that a hybrid species would be biologically impossible. Still, witnesses say that there is no denying some kind of connection, and have already begun to refer to them werewolves. The first human known to interact with a werewolf directly was a young girl named Scarlett Capello. She had this to say:

Yes, I have been taking care of my friend, Barnabas, for the better part of a month now. He and his kin are in a great deal of pain, and need a lot of attention. They agreed to come out of the shadows to ask for your help. If anyone, with any experience with animals, has any ideas, they would be greatly appreciated.
This help has apparently come in the form of a coven of witches from Namibia. This reporter was unable to have access to their rituals as witch practices are strictly private, but an inside source has revealed that the main concern now is pain management. Experts expect werewolves to have a greater lifespan than regular wolves, but one still shorter than humans. This story will be updated in later issues as more information comes in.

Monday, January 23, 2017

Microstory 501: New Hitch Series Moving Forward

Regalia Filcher, spokesperson for the Earthan Film Reclamation Institute has officially announced that the company will be moving forward with the next chapter in the Hitch franchise. The new series will be the first time we’ve visited the Hitch universe since The Trial of Allegra Cole. Insiders have said that it will be released in half-standard hour weekly installments, but episode count has not yet been determined. This news comes at the heels of an announcement from the Eridani military of initial talks with the new Fostean government regarding a possible alliance against the continuing Nectean invasion. Analysts have not been confident that any film production would be going forward due to military and social unrest the likes of which the Core has not seen since The Arrival From the Right. Filcher has said that she and her team made the decision to maintain all production business not in spite of, but because of, the war. She had this to say:

I was 239 years old when I first saw the original Earthan film that started it all. Like many others, I could see [Hitch’s] potential. Its popularity across the galaxy quickly outshined its target demographic, and not just because system population is well over a hundred times larger than that of Earth. The sequels, prequels, spinoffs, weekly programs, and books have expanded the universe beyond all imagination. There’s a reason we in the industry call it ‘the second singularity’. I’m proud to have served in this organization, and look forward to our next stage.

No word on plot has been revealed, but rumors have been cycling that it will focus on the character of Tom Reda—originally played by Earthan Jack Hartnett, and later by Halstad actor Jireyno Kaklen—who has not been seen since the third feature-length film when he heroically threw himself in front of a bus to free his friend’s daughter from a hostage situation, and has presumably been in a coma this entire time. Since Kaklen’s unexpected retirement from acting to work fulltime on the farms of Eubolos, it’s likely that they will have to recast the role. There have also been rumors that Maria Thayer herself will return, but that she may be playing a different character than she did in the original. She was recently spotted touring the Garden of Hortus as one of the few privileged Earthan humans recruited to ease uproar should the Thuriamen succeed in their goal to reveal the truth to all of Earth. If it turns out to be true that she’s been cast in a Core production, she will follow in the footsteps of the greats like Pauly Shore, Linda Fiorentino of Men in Black: Off Earth fame, and of course Gene Hackman, who has been a staple of Core Originals since KST 2419. We will update this story as more information comes in.

Sunday, January 22, 2017

The Advancement of Mateo Matic: June 26, 2111

They woke up at the break of dawn the next morning. He had the urge to gather everyone yet again to make sure Arcadia hadn’t lied about her plan. No, everyone was still here. Everyone, except for Baudin, of course.
“So, what are we supposed to do now?” Paige asked.
“We’re supposed to build something,” Mateo said. “I don’t know what, and I don’t know all the rules.”
Samsonite suddenly slipped into a bitchy resting face and stepped forward. He stood there blankly for a few seconds, worrying everyone. Then he spoke in an unnerving monotone, “Traveler Four-Six-Two-Three, your first expiation is simple. You must construct a habitable structure large enough to accommodate everyone on Tribulation Island.
“Well, that’s not so bad,” Horace said. “We have memories of doing that for decades.”
You must do this on the other side of the island...using materials found on this side.”
“Okay, well, that’s not so great,” Horace amended.
“None of you has to do this,” Mateo said to the group after the instructions were over, and the real Samsonite came back to them. “Whether you believe me or not is not the point. The fact that you don’t remember him means that you can’t have any strong feelings about him, one way or the other. I can’t ask you to put heavy effort into something that you don’t believe in.”
Paige, who Mateo both knew the least, and wasn’t related to, stepped right in front of him. “What doesn’t matter is what we feel. You care about him, and so we do too. We are all stranded on this island. If we can’t learn to live together...we’re gonna die alone.”
That sounded like a quote from something. Saga smiled at it, at least.
“Well still, I couldn’t, in good conscience, hold it against anyone who refused, or got too tired of it. I do think, however, that someone else should lead the team. I don’t have any experience in construction. I didn’t even take shop class in high school.”
“Aren’t you a mechanic?” Vearden asked.
“I was a driver. I can change the oil, that’s about as far as my manliness goes. I never worked with wood.”
“Then I suppose I’m the most qualified,” Vearden said, and everybody seemed to agree. “Leona, though, you know the island best. Where are we going to build the shelter, and how far is it from here?”
Mateo started picturing Leona at the front of a classroom, drawing a map on the whiteboard, and wielding a baton. “The island is fifteen kilometers wide, and twenty-eight kilometers long. Since our basecamp is on one of the long ends, and actually pretty close to the middle, I can only assume that we’re meant to travel only the fifteen.”
“What’s that in miles?” Gilbert asked.
“About Nine-point-three-two,” she answered. “Walking it takes nearly three hours because of the harsh terrain.”
“I’ve done it many times,” Mateo remembered.
“Okay, we can do this. One day? That’s easy. No problem.” He took a beat to think. “All right, we’ll need three teams. Choppers, draggers, and builders. The choppers need brute strength, the draggers need endurance, and the builders need precision. Since there’s nothing to carry yet, and nothing to build, we’ll all start out as choppers. Then two-thirds of us will break off. And then half of that group will break off later.”
“We only have three axes,” Samsonite pointed out.
“Fine,” Vearden said. “I guess my math doesn’t check out, but that’s Leona’s department.”
Saga jumped in, “We’ll need the most people as draggers anyway, to cover all that ground.”
“That’s true,” Vearden continued. “I want a relay system. We’ll place draggers at strategic points along the path, and each will hand off their load. That will create more frequent breaks from all that carrying, rather than just everybody always walking the whole distance.”
Mateo had no memory of when he supposedly first arrived on the island, or when the others did. They’re memories were screwy either way, because most of them had no recollection of Mateo until recently anyway, so the time-altering, Hitler-killing adventure was still having the same effect on them. He was surprised, then, to learn that they did have a few amenities that they wouldn’t have had around had they just crashed. A single airplane does not have three axes, so these ones were just apported there, at least according to everyone else. Mario, Horace, and Lincoln were chosen to be choppers. Kivi was posted with them too. Once they had cut down as much, and as little, as she could carry, she would drag it away and hand it off to Mateo at kilometer marker two before walking all the way back. Mateo would then take it three kilometers away to Xearea. This process continued with Gilbert at marker seven, Samsonite at marker ten, and Paige at marker thirteen.
Paige would carry it to the beach where Vearden, Leona, Aura, Téa, and Saga were waiting to use it to build the shelter. Horace—having gotten into running from his life with professional runner, Serkan—chose to be their runner. He would literally run the whole distance back and forth, transporting water and snacks for them. Fortunately for him, the powers that be did not prevent him from maintaining his transhumanistic upgrades, meaning that running a few marathons in a day wasn’t actually as bad as it sounded.
After night fell, Horace ran back to the original beach and let the choppers know that they wouldn’t need any more wood. They grabbed what they had left, and started heading down the assembly line, sweeping up each dragger as they passed. They tried to help the builders finish up once everyone was at the other beach, but were rejected. Though everyone worked really hard, and no one had contributed any more or less than anyone else, the choppers had expelled the greatest amount of energy. It was time for them to rest and eat. The draggers were drained of energy as well, so they too sat down and had dinner.
While in the middle of it, Samsonite pulled Mateo and Gilbert to the side so they could have a conversation in private. “Please, keep eating. I just need to ask a few questions.”
“Shoot,” Mateo said.
“I think maybe Gilbert can help more, because he has more experience with time travel, but I can’t say for sure.”
“What is it?” Gilbert asked.
“What would you say to someone who has—oh, I dunno...been having hallucinations of zombie people sitting on horses?”
“What?” Mateo asked. “Has that been happening?”
Gilbert stopped eating and rested his chin on the palm of his hand. They waited patiently. “Were they dressed in western garb?”
“Yes!” Samsonite cried, then lowered his head, and spoke softer, when he realized others could hear. He didn’t want this getting out. “One of them had some kind of satchel with a stitching of a red fish. I assume it was a salmon. What does this mean?”
“It would seem that Arcadia has a flair for pop culture references, just like I did when I was doing this sort of thing to you.”
“What is it from?” Mateo asked.
Teen Wolf,” Gilbert explained. “The ghost riders. The mythology is that...I don’t want to say it.”
“Say what?” Samsonite pressed. “Please, go on.”
Gilbert obliged, “if you see the ghost riders, then...then you’re next.”
“I’m going to be torn out of time?”
“Yes.”
“Wait,” Mateo questioned, “in the show, these beings took people out of time, just like here, in real life?”
“They did indeed,” Gilbert confirmed.
“It sounds like Arcadia stole her idea from them, eh?” Mateo asked rhetorically.
Samsonite wanted to remain serious. “Why would they do that? And what does it have to do with Arcadia?”
“Well, they sort of had to. And I don’t think they have really anything to do with Arcadia. She’s showing you an image of that as a joke. She’s taunting you. I only hope that you’re the only one who ever sees it. The only thing worse than being torn out of time is, like, knowing it’s coming.”
“But you’ll remember me, Mateo. You have to tell your mother about me. I know we haven’t exactly been close, and that’s okay. Just please...tell her about me tomorrow.”
“I will. Of course I will. I am not leaving anybody behind. Everyone gets an expiation, and everyone gets my full attention. I won’t stop until I have you all back. I swear to God. And I’m Catholic, so you know that means something.”
“Thanks, that’s comforting, I mean it.” He turned to Gilbert. “Will it hurt?”
“It seems to hurt on the show, but I doubt it does in real life. You won’t feel anything at all soon after, but when you finally come back, I can’t tell you what you’ll remember. Presumably Arcadia is going to mend the corrupted reality after all of this is over, which makes you wonder what reality that’s going to be. Will our memories of being marooned on an island disappear? Will it go back to whatever Mateo here remembers? Or what?”
“I’m more interested in this conversation,” Mateo said. “I’ll almost certainly remember it when Samsonite is gone. But will you? What will you think you did for the last ten minutes? What if we go off away from Samsonite and talk about him at length right now?”
“There will technically be a gap in memory,” Gilbert said, “but Arcadia won’t need to replace it with anything. She’ll remove the memories of these moments, and then my brain will fill in the blanks.”
Samsonite moaned. “Oh, I feel so hopeless.”
“You are not alone,” Mateo reminded him. “I’ll never forget, as long as you don’t forget me.”
Samsonite laughed. “I don’t think anyone could forget you, Mateo Matic.”
But they did forget somebody. When Mateo woke up the next year, everybody was in about the same positions as they were before. They had decided to sleep in the new shelter, all together. Even though Arcadia hadn’t said that was part of the expiation, they didn’t want to take any risks. There was one person missing, so who would it be? Mateo checked them off in his head as he scanned the still-sleeping faces, the exclusion of which was Paige who was just watching him. Lincoln, Darko, Leona, Aura, and...and, oh no. Samsonite. Samsonite was there, lying right next to Aura. So who was it? Who was gone? He kept looking down the line. Kivi, Paige, and Horace.
Gilbert. It was Gilbert Boyce, a.k.a. The Rogue. He was gone. Damn.

Saturday, January 21, 2017

Voyage to Saga: Flights, Cameras, The Action (Part I)

Vearden Haywood was almost completely alone. He once traveled the galaxy, completing missions, and going on adventures, with his best friend. But Saga was gone. She had sacrificed herself to save thousands of lives, and now she no longer existed. He found himself in a new reality; one in which an ally named Mateo Matic was never born, and neither was Saga. They had been battling an enemy who liked to call himself The Cleanser...or The Cleaner. Whatever it was, he was not a good person. It was he who tried to destroy The Pentagon with some kind of quantum duplication trick, but in order to achieve this, he needed to share some of his power with the two of them. Saga held onto this power, and used it against him, leaving Vearden to regret allowing it.
Vearden was able to maintain some power for a while after Saga’s disappearance, but not enough to find a way to bring her back. Once all this power had been drained from his system, he happened to be stuck in the year 2017. Not that it mattered, really, but it would have been nice to have gigabit internet. At present, he was sprawled out on the couch of a safehouse, watching trash TV, just like he was doing before he knew that time travel was real. He could hear clicking sounds on the other side of the door. Ashlock must have been trying to break in again. He said it was weird that a guy with his last name couldn’t pick a lock. Vearden didn’t really see a relevant connection. Garen Ashlock was a fellow time traveler, except instead of being beholden to the whims of the powers that be, he could choose how he used his powers. Not surprisingly, people like him were known as choosing ones. He had an interesting limitation, though. He could send someone from present day to any time and place in the future or past, and then bring them back, but was unable to travel himself. They called him The Action, but Vearden preferred Ashlock.
Fifteen minutes later, the door swung open. “I think I may have broken it,” Ashlock said apologetically.
“Whatever,” Vearden replied. “The only people I’m worried about getting in here can teleport anyway.”
Ashlock looked at the TV. “Why are you watching this crap again?”
“Well, I just finished watching LOST for the fourth time, and it was left on this channel.”
“Do you think watching your friend’s favorite show is gonna bring her back?”
“I can’t imagine it’s preventing her from coming back.”
“But it prevents you from moving on. This life is not healthy. How long has it been since the powers that be gave you a mission?”
“They keep opening portals to Stonehenge, but I think they know by now that I’ve figured out how to subvert them.”
“Well, you’re the only I’ve ever met who’s been able to do that.”
“The other salmon just aren’t working hard enough.”
“And they were never temporarily granted the temporal powers of one of the most powerful people in histories.”
“There’s that too.”
“Come on,” Ashlock said, like a worried mother. “It’s time to get out and about. I wanna send you somewhere.”
“No, thanks, I don’t feel like it.”
“I didn’t say you had a choice.”
“You didn’t say I didn’t.”
“Do you want to talk in circles?”
“Do you want to talk in circles?”
“Very funny.”
“I thought so.”
“If you don’t get up and get dressed right now, you’ll be going on the trip in your jammies.”
“It’s a robe.”
“Then I’ll send you to a transport ship in the 24th century, and you can pretend to be Arthur Dent.”
“I don’t get the reference.”
“Yes, you do, I know you do.” He waited. “Seriously, this is happening. I consider it my duty and honor to extract you from your funk.”
“Fine,” Vearden said finally. Then he got dressed.
“Bring Saga’s camera, by the way. You’re gonna want it.”
“It better be somewhere cold this time,” Vearden said from the other room as he was retrieving the camera.
Ashlock cracked his knuckles, and his neck. “Thank you for flying Ashlock Airlines. Here at Ashlock, we understand that you have a choice in transport options, and we thank you for not choosing Dave. Dave’s a dick.”
“Okay,” Vearden said dismissively.
Ashlock didn’t care. “At this time, please ensure that you have removed any citrus from your person, as it will explode during transit. If you cannot afford to leave your citrus, a napkin will not be appointed for you.”
“Could we be quite quick?”
“Your wish is my command.” He snapped his fingers, twitched his nose, then crossed his arms and bobbed his head.
“We get it,” Vearden cried. “You have superpowers, and you like TV!”
As one final flourish, Ashlock reached back and began to punch Vearden. An invisible force propelled Vearden backwards, before Ashlock’s fist could make contact, sending him to another time and place.
He was standing in a field, which was where all good stories start. At first he thought that that’s all it was, but then he turned and saw something familiar. Ashlock’s voice came to him from the aether, which was something he could do to people he’s sent somewhere. “I’m sorry. It’s for the best.
Vearden was looking at a Stonehenge archway. But that’s all that was there. Only one archway of three stones had been built. The rest were presumably on their way. Though never this early in the timeline, he had been here before. A man called The Delegator liked to use it as his office. He would summon salmon—time travelers who had no control over their movements—to his location in order to tell them what they’re going to be doing to serve a mysterious group of people ominously called the powers that be.
“I have been waiting for you for a very long time,” the Delegator said.
“That’s BS,” Vearden argued. “You can manipulate time. I bet you just tried to take me back several times within the last five minutes, from your perspective.”
“Then correction: you have been waiting to return for a very long time.”
“Whatever,” Vearden replied, his catchphrase. “I’m not gonna fight with you about this. I think I did a pretty good job of avoiding it, but that’s over now. There’s only one archway, which means I don’t have a choice in the matter this time. Either tell me what I’m doing, or let me walk through and figure it out on my own. I’m fine either way.”
“If you had come when you were first called, you would have learned that this is a mission you might actually want.”
“I doubt it.”
“The archway will take you back to Saga.”
With no further question, Vearden started walking towards the portal.
“Wait,” the delegator stopped him desperately. “It won’t take you directly to her. You’ll have to go through a whole lot of trouble on the other side in order to find her.”
He would not be deterred. “Fine, that works for me.”
“Not so fast. Right now, she feels no pain. She feels nothing. If you do this. If you go on this...journey, you’ll be subjecting her to the pain of life. If you walk away, you’ll go back to your tighty-whities and microwave popcorn, and the powers that be will never bother you again. Hell, I’ll even throw in a one-way trip to a time and place of your choosing, at no extra charge. Walk through that portal, and the deal’s off. If you get Saga back, you’ll both start going on dangerous missions again.”
Vearden laughed. “As if that’s a real choice.” He continued towards the portal.
“Can you do that to her? Can you bring another human being into our terrible world?”
“The world is better off,” Vearden said without turning back, “with Saga Einarsson in it.” He stepped forward...and began his voyage to Saga.

Friday, January 20, 2017

Microstory 500: Headlines (Introduction)

It wasn’t until I was thirteen years old when I realized that I should grow up to become a fulltime writer. Before that, I was into science; specifically meteorology, biochemistry, and quantum physics. A failing grade in the middle of the year for eighth grade science class swiftly quashed that dream. Only my interest in physics has remained from all that. Surprisingly enough, it wasn’t until college that I decided to focus on science fiction, and I subsequently started shoveling as much scifi TV and movies into my brain as I could find. Before all this happened, however, I was already a writer. I just didn’t understand how powerful that aspect of me would become. I would visit my grandparents just under an hour away in Lawrence, Kansas on a regular basis. While I was there, I would walk myself down to the library, sign in to use a computer, and get to work. What would I write? Short stories? Little jokes? Fan fiction? No, my first personal experiences with writing involved little fake news stories. I would write about the world ending from the perspective of one of the last journalists. I would write about other planets, and science experiments gone wrong, and who knows what else? I remember printing them all out, but I cannot for the life of me remember what I did with them after that. I certainly don’t have access to them now. This was before flashdrives, and I don’t think those old PCs had internet access. Since then, I’ve developed a massive canon called recursiverse with hundreds of named characters having adventures and tribulations on thousands of named planets over the course of billions of years. Then there’s my salmonverse canon, the scope of which is yet to be determined. I’ve written jokes, poems, microstories, songs, short stories, fan fiction, original novels, graphic novels, television shows, and movies. I’ve planned about 70 TV series, designed to be released through the year 2066. All of eight of them are not connected to other narratives. This either sounds like I’m crazy, or trying to brag, or both. It’s both. The sad part is that there is a strong possibility that none of them will see the light of day, just like those fake news articles I wrote when I was a little tiny baby boy baby. Here’s the thing, though, these fake articles I’ll be writing for the next twenty weeks will indeed be released. I’m going to be working on this website through 2066 no matter what, and it’s going to result in at least 150 self-published books guaranteed. So do not pity me. Just sit back and supplement the onslaught of celebrity nipslips and political nightmares with a little news...from the other side. Welcome...to Headlines.