text. un: knicksfan1961

[bigfootfetish]

[ In 1999, usernames describing interests are king and web 2.0 has yet to be dreamt of. This looks like a place to keep a weblog, and Mulder's not opposed to the possibilities. ]

Since childhood, I've dreamt of space. Who among us didn't, raised as we were? We grew up in the shadow of JFK's promise to take America to the moon, watching Neil Armstrong's fateful steps on minuscule TV screens, sitting in sweltering living rooms and imagining we were the ones clambering out of Apollo 11. That it might have been faked by Stanley Kubrick is beyond the point; we were kids, and we believed.

I've taken a giant leap for a man, let alone mankind, waking up in what appears to be a space station and not a sound-stage built by the Walt Disney Company. I see no flaws as of yet, no flies in the ointment. And yet I confess that I'm suspicious.

My concerns are several, key among them the possibility that I'm actually dying in a cave somewhere under the surface of North Carolina. That this is a distraction from the real work I intend to do, lunatic hallucinations designed to keep me from escaping my fate - but if my mind doesn't deceive me, this could be the case I've waited for. There's no denying that the bargain I've (allegedly) made is a strange one, threatening the fabric of time and space. And yet it feels almost reasonable: if I can be stolen from a hospital bed to the furthest reaches of the universe, why can't I intercede in events that have already happened?

(Merely existing here, witnessing technology beyond any I've seen in my dealings with Cancer Man or his shadowy colleagues, already continues work I've chased for years. I want to know more.)

I'm keeping a careful eye out for anomalies in my perceptions, anything that might lend credence to my null-hypothesis (digestion by way of fungi). I'm also on the search for a functional television and VCR; among other things, I've arrived with a handful of videotapes, but I have no way of watching them.

Comments

Text | un: belova

[laviny]

[jesus, how old is this guy. Just looking at that wall of text is giving her a headache. She’s sure that there must be a modern day meme to really sums up how this makes her feel.

Oh, right, she’s got it.]

ok boomer

YES THANK YOU THIS MAN WAS BORN IN 61

[bigfootfetish]

Come again?

Honestly surprised no one beat me to it lmao

[laviny]

Boomer. Part of the Baby Boomer generation born following World War II.

Basically, you sound old.

[bigfootfetish]

Uh-huh. So how young are you, O Wise One?

[laviny]

I actually don’t know for sure. I don’t have a birth certificate. I was a little girl in the mid-nineties, though.

How old were you in the mid-nineties?

[bigfootfetish]

You first, give me a ballpark estimate to work with. I want to know just how much more ancient I am in real-year terms.

[laviny]

You know, like 5 or so.

[bigfootfetish]

No, no, I mean now. How old are you now?

Unless you're still five, in which case: Great typing skills, go read a book.

[laviny]

Oh, ok.

Let me work this out.

So I was in my late 20s when Thanos happened, and I was dust for five years and didn’t age. Then I came back. And it’s been almost 2 years since then, I think. Plus time spent here.

…

I don’t know, early 30s somewhere.

[Her age is legit hard to calculate, ok. It’s not her fault.]

[bigfootfetish]

I'll be 38 this year. Sounds like you might have to accept that you're old, too.

[laviny]

I didn’t say you were old, I said you sounded old.

Like a boomer.

I’m from the year 2024. What year are you from?

[bigfootfetish]

1999. And if patterns hold true, one of these days a thirtysomething from 2049 is going to walk up to you on this ship and tell you that all your slang is out of date. Tell me when it happens, okay? I want to hear all about it.

[laviny]

I mean, they would be right.

But it’s not really your slang that gave you away. American 90s slang is pretty cool. It’s all the words you used. No one texts like that in the 21st century.

[bigfootfetish]

So how do people text in the new millennium? We're almost there, back at home - I should probably be prepared.

[laviny]

A lot of shorthand and emojis.

Your whole post could be summed up as:

"wtf 🤔😒😑😩🫡"

Something like that.

[bigfootfetish]

You'd lose the texture of it, then. Those emoticons capture the feeling at the expense of everything else.

[laviny]

Kind of. Yeah.

The 21st century cares more about vibes than texture, I guess.

[bigfootfetish]

Well, now I'm not looking forward to the ball drop this year. Thanks, kid.

[laviny]

You’re welcome, old man. 🤗❤️👍

[bigfootfetish]

What is that face doing? Are those hands? Is it pushing me away?

[laviny]

No, no. It’s jazz hands.

[bigfootfetish]

Jazz hands.

Are Bob Fosse movies big in the future?

[laviny]

[Does she have any idea who that is? Honestly probably not. At least not specifically.

However:]

Jazz never goes out of style.

[bigfootfetish]

I beg to differ, belova.

[laviny]

What, are you a jazz hater or something?