Gordon “Snaptrap” wondered if that was his real name or a pseudonym. He wondered if he was an investigator or a journalist who wanted to keep his real identity concealed. Of course, it no longer mattered because he was enjoying his most recent lobotomy. He was under the knife and loaded with drugs.
Gordon sat in a high-powered dentist chair while a computerized Bum-Bot took control of his brain. It was all for the best. This wasn’t his first lobotomy. Every operation had benefits as well as unpleasant side effects. The Robo-Doc assured Gordon that benefits would outweigh the pain. Gordon briefly recalled inconsolable sobbing, but the pain had subsided considerably since his last lobotomy.
The current operation was given as a bonus. This time the lobotomy would free Gordon from all his doubts, depression, and negativity. Before the lobotomies Gordon was, indeed, an investigator. He had damning evidence of government corruption. All the facts, names and dates, were locked in the safest place he could find: in his mind.
The world was in his brain.
We live and breathe in peripheral spaces.
A mouse walked around in the supermarket with a cell phone. She wasn’t really a mouse, but the cell phone was real. The market was almost empty at eleven PM. She played out a psychodrama, her and the phone. Talking to the phone. Her squeaky voice penetrated the emptiness. She had a license to kill, government authorized.
Evidence was everywhere: Government collusion at the highest levels. The top dog gave legitimacy to white-supremacy and misogyny. The Special Council was pilloried by political hacks and fake-news outlets. Officials were replaced with clones. Military might was extolled. Tariffs decreed. Mass shootings were officially condoned. Immigrants were hauled off by ICE and sacrificed to the God of Megalomania.
Political hacks and lackeys authorized the “operations.”
At first Gordon disparaged himself for being careless. After the first lobotomy he forgot all the details and no longer blamed himself. He forgot the evidence he hid in his mind. All that remained were flashes of memory: manipulators, roving Proctologists, and military drones.
How can we survive as humans when robots are better at surviving?
Gordon was decommissioned — body parts farmed out. His brain was hacked, deconstructed. Reality was hijacked, crowd sourced, and replaced.
“Of course the focus is on the extraordinary,” Dr. Klemp said, “and that’s why our cloning program is so successful. We are not trying to reproduce copies, we are pursuing the science of Creationism – whereas Man is the creator.” Dr. Klemp led the tour group through the vast chambers of the Mangorah Institute of Genetic Disparity. Klemp continued his lecture, “I myself am a clone although I look nothing like my donating progenitor – and I am nothing like Dr. Huxley who’s cells provided my inheritance. Since I’ve taken control of Mangorah procedures have been updated. We no longer make requests for genetic material. We take what comes and use what we can, then dispose of the remaining organism.” Murmurs arose from members of the group who obediently followed Dr. klemp. “We no longer need the original donor to cause disputes over the resulting clones. Our responsibility is to the clones themselves.” Now there were gasps from members of the tour group. “As I stated, we take what comes to us. Clones are far superior and more diverse than natural born humans. Each of you should be honored to be part of our cutting edge procedures.” The tour group was immediately surrounded by creatures who barely looked human, mutant clones. Members of the group would be used as fodder to create a new generation of clones who would be capable of “shock & awe” and world domination.