Tuesday, May 26, 2015

Dingo Subman: Reality Quest


Oh, how doth thy neighbor live-
without form or sense, to exist without
rules or laws?
- In theory and theory alone.

- Gold-Stanky

Dingo shifted toward Bunky, eyes glistening from the wax injections.
    “The treatments aren’t working Bunk! I’m still as formless as ever!”
Bunky was an interesting character, traveling the galaxy manipulating privileged physical beings into the theoretical plane. He was one of many scientists capable of the operation, but he was also one of the best. Bunky dabbled in music production, alongside his good friend, Gold-Stanky, and was quite a womanizer. He was adored everywhere he went, probably due in part to his small build; he was three feet tall and looked like a newborn. Dingo found him while searching the universe for himself in physical form. It was wonderful finding Bunky. It was a chance at hope, at finally becoming physical.
Bunky sighed and threw away the syringes,
    “I don’t know what to tell you Dingo. Like I told you before, these treatments are experimental, I’ve never encountered a patient who’s wanted to become a physical being. I may be an expert at manipulating people into the theoretical plane, but that doesn’t mean I can reverse the process. The human body is capable of letting go of a consciousness, and it is easy to facilitate this operation. But trying to create living, breathing, physical matter from a theoretical being is near impossible! There are just too many variables. The whole point of becoming a theoretical being is the limitless potential! I understand that this would be an incredible scientific breakthrough, but I must ask, why would you want to become a physical being anyway?”
    Dingo paused, lost in thought.
    “Did you know that we all came from a big dot? When I feel low, I just watch it. The universe slowly pours out of it.”
    “Dingo I Shub-”
Before Bunky could say anything, Dingo continued:
    “If you look closely enough at the universe, you can see countless, infinitesimal ripples and eddies. They swirl, dance, and collide, creating whole worlds, even beyond what can be seen. I can explore this noise as much as I want, even interact with the microscopic beings who inhabit these worlds. But no matter what I do, these moments pass through my hands like water, refusing to take me with them. I am a ghost, doctor. Nothing more.”
Bunky stood still, staring at the floor; he was watching someone slowly crumble under the weight of their own non-existence. It was something he could never understand, unless he too left his own body, to wander amongst those he had personally escorted to the theoretical plane. It was something he would consider from time to time, yet always thought against.
Before Bunky could say anything, Dingo shifted out of the room. He slowly drifted from the space station Bunky stayed in.
As Dingo drifted farther and farther away, outside of the boundaries of the known universe, he began to see more and more of the First Bubtronic, the large dot he told Bunky about. The universe was slowly leaving it, like a bee from its hive. Dingo looked over to the other end of the universe, to the Last Bubtronic. The Last Bubtronic slowly consumed the universe; it was the literal end of all existence as beings theoretical or otherwise knew it, and one day, it would consume everything between it and the First Bubtronic. Dingo made sure not to get too close to it, lest it swallow him up too. Not too many theoretical beings came up here, as it would ruin the high that came from creating their own theoretical worlds. Dingo did that for a time, but slowly gave in to the ennui of the limitless, asking himself, “Is this all there is?”
That’s when he found himself looking toward the minutia, the infinitesimal, finite moments that slowly fed the universe into the Last Bubtronic. He envied those who were shackled to a certain time and place, the microscopic beings who had hopes, fears, dreams; anything was possible only because there was so much that was unknown. Dingo had seen all there is to be seen, and known all there is to be known, all he had now was hope. Hope that he could one day die a physical being, swept up by the swirling, unforgiving nature of time into the Last Bubtronic.
It felt selfish to just leave Bunky sitting in his lab alone like he did. So Dingo cooled down and headed back to the space station. When he got back, Bunky was sitting at his desk with a look of concern plastered across his face.
“Oh, y-you’re back, Look, Dingo, I’ll do everything I can to try and help you, but at this point I’m just not sure it’s possible to do what you’re asking me to do. I’m sorry, but I don’t think technology will ever be able to account for the infinite possibility of a theoretical being. “
Dingo looked at Bunky earnestly.
“I get it, doc. I do, I just - I just want to be able to experience something real for the first time in my life. You know? Something mundane, something physical.”
“I-I don’t know what to tell you, Dingo. My presence is needed in lab block 3, I have to go.”
And with that, the moment left Dingo to go swirling off into the rest of the universe.
Dingo had had enough, he’d reached the end of his rope. Nobody could help him leave the theoretical plane. He looked at the Last Bubtronic eating away at everything that ever was and will be, knowing there would be no escape from the theoretical plane outside of this. Dingo began hurtling towards the Last Bubtronic, he was ready to go, to get out of the theoretical plane, to die. As he flew closer and closer, memories of his past left him. He found no comfort in his theoretical life. Finally he reached the Last Bubtronic, and Dingo could feel its energy buzzing and pulsing. It was time to leave.
He plunged into the Last Bubtronic. The area around him quickly grew darker. He heard what sounded like mechanical screams and hisses for a time as he flew deeper and deeper into the end of the universe. There were bright flashes of light going off at seemingly random times. All of a sudden as things began to move faster, Dingo turned around. The universe began to leave the First Bubtronic completely, dislodging itself. Moving faster and faster, it began to shoot toward the Final Bubtronic, toward Dingo. The universe hit the Final Bubtronic like a speeding train. A bright flash of light blinded Dingo and struck him with a realization: The universe was just a message, a transmission between two points. Before this realization could really sink in, Dingo felt his theoretical body separate from himself. He looked deep into his own brain, down to his neurons and synapses, and saw millions of Bubtronics, all of them sending and receiving whole universes at blazing speeds.
Dingo was shocked. He felt so incredibly small, yet so impossibly large. What felt like an incredibly powerful gust of wind took what was left of Dingo and made him part of the infinite within the Last Bubtronic.
The Last Bubtronic went on to receive trillions of universes, sent to it by the First Bubtronic. These Bubtronics worked alongside countless others within Dingo’s brain. The universes in question were just nerve impulses, each carrying different and unique messages.
As Dingo made his way to the space station to see Bunky for his treatment, he felt a bit of Déjà vu, but shook it off and carried on.

Saturday, May 23, 2015

Main Camp - new novel by Don Drake

Welcome to Dry Wells, a town scorched by a fiery drought, a charnel ground of dry bones and parched souls. Furious fanatics rise from its socioeconomic ashes, wielding their hammer of might to reclaim their birthright. An American horror story of biblical proportions.


Justin fell on his knees, bowed his head, put his hands together. Damn tears just wouldn’t stop. What’s our country come to? Saint John had prophesied these times on the Isle of Patmos a couple thousand years ago. It’s all happening now. Terrorists, illegal immigrants, colored creatures everywhere, mixed breedin’, socialized health care, taking prayers outta school, legalizing homosexual marriage. A damn outrage and shame unto the lord.

Justin smirked with head bowed, thinking of one of his favorite bumper stickers: Jesus is coming and boy is he pissed. Yeah, that’s a good one, lord. You come and judge the wicked, pitch ‘em into the hell they deserve. May thine New Jerusalem descend from heaven as a bride, for thou art the groom, o lord. Thy will be done, o lord. Though thou saw it best that I don’t join thine earthly army of the elect, thou hast a purpose set aside for me.


Table of Contents

Chapter 1 Dry Wells

Chapter 2 Knights of the Lord’s Second Coming

Chapter 3 Reise Reise

Chapter 4 Smart Patrol

Chapter 5 The Revelation of Josh

Chapter 6 Also sprach Pastor Jim

Chapter 7 The Tabernacle

Chapter 8 Antichrist

Chapter 9 Acts of the Apostles

Chapter 10 Golgotha

Chapter 11 The Final Judgment

Paperback and Kindle available http://amzn.to/1K6XsWr