fuzzybluemonkeys (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
fuzzybluemonkeys) wrote2004-06-05 06:38 pm
fuzzybluemonkeys) wrote2004-06-05 06:38 pm
Entry tags:
whaddaya think? too heavy-handed and cliche right?
The radio came on at 7:00am, begging me to buy a car with some percentage of APR financing (whatever the frell that is). I turned off my wake-up call and sat up in bed. My eyes were bleary from being closed in slumber and my brain was taking its own sweet time gathering up enough steam to move one foot, and then the next, to the floor. I have in be in Princeton by 9am, and even though it's less than 30 minutes away on a good day, during rush hour, all bets are off.
***
The infernal beeping started 1st Tenth. If I didn't do anything about it, the beeping would continue for days without interruption. I got up off my bed, and the wake-up call stopped as soon as the weight sensors detected my absence. What is to prevent me from curling up on the floor to continue my slumber I do not know, but my duty shift starts at 2nd Tenth, so I might as well get on with it.
***
I am a college student on my way to a summer job.
***
I am one of three pilots aboard the Summerland preparing to go to war with the ##&!. Technically, we have not yet been informed of our mission, but we all know what awaits us. The President's speech had made that abundantly clear. Never mind that he had spoken of justice rather than revenge, we were going to destroy them all.
***
When I applied for a job at the Princeton University Libraries I have to admit I was hoping to be able to work in the Preservation department fixing books. Instead I work with maps. Sometimes there are repairs, but mostly it's just cataloging. I haven't been working there long, but I'm already lamenting the loss of my summer vacation. A year from now I will have graduated from college and been thrust out on my own. I don't know what I'm going to do with my life, and I wish that people would stop asking.
***
I always knew I wanted to be a pilot. My parents were doctors, but not me. I wanted to fly like a bird (or as close to it as my non-avian form would allow). So here I am in the pilot's room, doing what I love to do, and have dedicated my entire life to doing, and now, of all times, I'm having second thoughts. I made it through the application process, survived the 51.35% dropout rate of first year students, and then escaped the 66.2% of students who failed a course and were forced to leave before graduation. But now I wonder what I'm doing here on my way to attack the ##&!. "They are a threat to our way of life!" the President had said. Too many people believed him for it to not be true.
***
It's a Friday so I'm wearing red in protest of the war in Iraq. All war is wrong. I'm not saying Saddam Hussein was a great ruler or anything, but how are the Iraqis any better off now that we've killed and tortured them? You want to go after a country for having weapons of mass destruction? Why not start right here in the good ol' U.S. of A.? We don't just have rumors of WMD's, we have the real thing. Heck, we've even used ours in Japan. By the warped logic of this country they would be perfectly justified in attacking us and getting rid of our fearless leader. "He was elected," you say? So was Saddam if you want to get all technical about it.
***
The pilot's room doesn't have any windows. It doesn't even have a view-screen, so I can't see the stars and planets as we hurtle past them, but the output of my computer screen tells me everything I need to know about them. The amount of gravity I have to compensate for, the various types of debris to be avoided or vaporized: it's all there. I'm sending a request for debris vaporization when in first appears on the scanner input field. It's disturbing how similar the data on the approach to this planet is to the familiar data from the approach of my own planet.
***
After 40 minutes of staring a the license plate of the various cars in front of me, I pull into a parking spot as far away from the other cars as possible. It's so much less stressful when you don't have to worry about hitting anyone. And here I thought that would be my big worry of the day.
***
The pilot just flies the ship. I get my orders and I follow them. I don't control the weapons. I can't even tell whether or not they're being fired from my little pilot's room. Not until they've cleared the ship and the scanners pick them up. Then I can watch them as they wend their way to the planet which is their target. I can't see the damage they do. Our weapons destroy living things, no the pull of gravity.
***
"It's been four hours and the gas is still coming. Initial reports suggesting Al Qaeda involvement are now known to be inaccurate. These weapons are being launched from outer space, and the poison gas they emit has cause a massive loss of life all over the world. No specific country seems to have been targeted, though the gas bombs seem to be hitting the most densely populated areas first. According to the latest reports, humans are not the only ones affected by this poisonous destroyer: other animals, plants, and insects are all dying as a result of exposure to the gas." Even roaches? I wonder as we huddle in the corner of the map room listening to the radio foretell our doom.
***
My regular duty shift is from 2nd Tenth to 5th Tenth, but my replacement doesn't come until 7th Tenth today. "You're late," I grumbled.
"I didn't want to miss the show."
"What show?"
"It's done. Reports say that the entire planet has been blanketed with poison gas. We don't have to worry about them attacking us anymore!"
Did we ever? I wonder as I watch my fellow pilot twitch his tentacles. His fur turns blue from the excitement of it all. My fur stays a pale yellow as I make my way back to my room. I have three stomachs to fill before I go to bed, and I've already lost a Tenth to my fellow pilot's revelry.
The infernal beeping started 1st Tenth. If I didn't do anything about it, the beeping would continue for days without interruption. I got up off my bed, and the wake-up call stopped as soon as the weight sensors detected my absence. What is to prevent me from curling up on the floor to continue my slumber I do not know, but my duty shift starts at 2nd Tenth, so I might as well get on with it.
I am a college student on my way to a summer job.
I am one of three pilots aboard the Summerland preparing to go to war with the ##&!. Technically, we have not yet been informed of our mission, but we all know what awaits us. The President's speech had made that abundantly clear. Never mind that he had spoken of justice rather than revenge, we were going to destroy them all.
When I applied for a job at the Princeton University Libraries I have to admit I was hoping to be able to work in the Preservation department fixing books. Instead I work with maps. Sometimes there are repairs, but mostly it's just cataloging. I haven't been working there long, but I'm already lamenting the loss of my summer vacation. A year from now I will have graduated from college and been thrust out on my own. I don't know what I'm going to do with my life, and I wish that people would stop asking.
I always knew I wanted to be a pilot. My parents were doctors, but not me. I wanted to fly like a bird (or as close to it as my non-avian form would allow). So here I am in the pilot's room, doing what I love to do, and have dedicated my entire life to doing, and now, of all times, I'm having second thoughts. I made it through the application process, survived the 51.35% dropout rate of first year students, and then escaped the 66.2% of students who failed a course and were forced to leave before graduation. But now I wonder what I'm doing here on my way to attack the ##&!. "They are a threat to our way of life!" the President had said. Too many people believed him for it to not be true.
It's a Friday so I'm wearing red in protest of the war in Iraq. All war is wrong. I'm not saying Saddam Hussein was a great ruler or anything, but how are the Iraqis any better off now that we've killed and tortured them? You want to go after a country for having weapons of mass destruction? Why not start right here in the good ol' U.S. of A.? We don't just have rumors of WMD's, we have the real thing. Heck, we've even used ours in Japan. By the warped logic of this country they would be perfectly justified in attacking us and getting rid of our fearless leader. "He was elected," you say? So was Saddam if you want to get all technical about it.
The pilot's room doesn't have any windows. It doesn't even have a view-screen, so I can't see the stars and planets as we hurtle past them, but the output of my computer screen tells me everything I need to know about them. The amount of gravity I have to compensate for, the various types of debris to be avoided or vaporized: it's all there. I'm sending a request for debris vaporization when in first appears on the scanner input field. It's disturbing how similar the data on the approach to this planet is to the familiar data from the approach of my own planet.
After 40 minutes of staring a the license plate of the various cars in front of me, I pull into a parking spot as far away from the other cars as possible. It's so much less stressful when you don't have to worry about hitting anyone. And here I thought that would be my big worry of the day.
The pilot just flies the ship. I get my orders and I follow them. I don't control the weapons. I can't even tell whether or not they're being fired from my little pilot's room. Not until they've cleared the ship and the scanners pick them up. Then I can watch them as they wend their way to the planet which is their target. I can't see the damage they do. Our weapons destroy living things, no the pull of gravity.
"It's been four hours and the gas is still coming. Initial reports suggesting Al Qaeda involvement are now known to be inaccurate. These weapons are being launched from outer space, and the poison gas they emit has cause a massive loss of life all over the world. No specific country seems to have been targeted, though the gas bombs seem to be hitting the most densely populated areas first. According to the latest reports, humans are not the only ones affected by this poisonous destroyer: other animals, plants, and insects are all dying as a result of exposure to the gas." Even roaches? I wonder as we huddle in the corner of the map room listening to the radio foretell our doom.
My regular duty shift is from 2nd Tenth to 5th Tenth, but my replacement doesn't come until 7th Tenth today. "You're late," I grumbled.
"I didn't want to miss the show."
"What show?"
"It's done. Reports say that the entire planet has been blanketed with poison gas. We don't have to worry about them attacking us anymore!"
Did we ever? I wonder as I watch my fellow pilot twitch his tentacles. His fur turns blue from the excitement of it all. My fur stays a pale yellow as I make my way back to my room. I have three stomachs to fill before I go to bed, and I've already lost a Tenth to my fellow pilot's revelry.
Re: summerland