• • •
Over the course of the next fewish days, Jonathan Knox learns some things about his new life in the Wuester of Bionic Earth.
First of all, he learns that things probably aren’t going to be just fine for him here. Not until his foot is healed up, at least, and even then things will probably turn out pretty grim. As it happens, the Wuester of Bionic Earth isn’t just like the Wuester of the defunct Cosmic Earth where Jonathan Knox originated. On Cosmic Earth, Wuester was just a little backwoods town full of local backwoods yokels. There were rumors that claimed the town was bottomless, that no matter how far down Cannonball Road you drove towards the center of town you never actually got there, that when you took a journey down Cannonball Road you didn’t decide when you turned off, Cannonball Road did… but those were just wacky rumors. On the whole, the Wuester, New Jersey of Cosmic Earth was – aside from the Neptunian presence beneath Atacama Lake – a normal small backwoods tow
Wait… Jonathan Knox had his memory wiped in the prison room, he wouldn’t have any idea what Cosmic Earth’s Wuester was like… god fuckING DA
Whatever, the point is that the Wuester of Bionic Earth is not your average small backwoods town. This Wuester has a massive self-sustaining subterranean compound built beneath the bed of the local summer hotspot Lake Atacama, a structure aptly dubbed the Compound ‘neath Atacama.
Actually… shit, that’s par for the course as far as Wuesters go. Uh, aside from Fallen Earth. On Fallen Earth there’s just a big crater where Atacama Lake and the surrounding area once was. Um…
Listen, there’s a lot. This continuity is asinine and clearly not thought out very well, and it’s just a lot. The point I’m trying to get to is that the Wuester, New Jersey of Bionic Earth is more or less gripped around the neck by a big corporation called The Internet Culture Company, the folks in control of Bionic Earth’s Compound ‘neath Atacama and the same folks responsible for the Does’ food fabrication machine with the conveyor belt, the holographic multi-dimensional television (that’s the thing in the middle of the Doe cabin), and all the rest of the technology running rampant through the Wuester, New Jersey of Bionic Earth. Through Bionic Wuester, yeah. What exactly all the rest of the technology running rampant through Bionic Wuester is Jonathan Knox does not know, because the holographic thing and the food thing are the only pieces of The Internet Culture Company hardware the Does own (not including the chips in their brains, obviously – everybody has those). This is so for a couple reasons, maybe even a few. All of this is falling from my hairs as I drag my bare ass across the keyboard; we’ll see how many reasons the Does have for owning only their two pieces of The Internet Culture Company technology around the end of this paragraph. Or string of paragraphs. Or diatribe, if you wan’a get saucy about it. I really don’ow how it’s gonna to turn out, I haven’t written it yet.
And I bet you really believe that, too.
First reason: the Does like to live off the grid. They want to live their God-granted human lives without the interference of artificial intelligence chips in their brains and cellular phones and all the high-technical honky-tonk bullshit. America is still a free country, despite what the folks who truly believe they’re in charge of it want their livestock to think, and if a couple of backwoodsmen wish to live their lives off the grid, they’ll do as they damn well please. If anyone tries to stop ‘em, fuck ‘em all. Even The Internet Culture Company.
Two reason: The Internet Culture Company has an asinine list of behavioral terms and conditions written into their End User License Agreement, one of which states the corporation’s name is to be said out in full whenever it is uttered. It is not The Internet Company, it isn’t TICC (pronounced tick, oh boi do they fuckin’ hate that one), it is not <generate third pronunciation>, it is The Internet Culture Company, and if you don’t say it right (they’ll know, as surveillance via brainchip is written into the End User License Agreement multiple times) a representative from The Internet Culture Company will come to your location (which they will be aware of, because tracking via brainchip is written into the End User License Agreement multiple times) and not only repossess all your The Internet Culture Company goodies (aside from the brainchip), but they will also beat the living shit out of you and stream the entire encounter on one (and probably all) of their many social networks, or Socials for short (spelled/said with a capital S, as per the End User License Agreement). Cletus and Courtney Doe know themselves well enough to know they’re liable to slip up when they’re speakin’ freely to one another, so in order to minimize the frequency of occurrence of situations in which they have to say the words The Internet Culture Company, they only have the necessities: sustenance and the tele’. They do not have the internet, because everything you see on there is bullshit anyway (you probably found this book on the internet, didn’t you? Oohhh, spooky!), and they only watch television on Sundays because, like the tobacco industry, America was built on the television industry, and it “deserves its day in court.” Their words, not mine; this is all coming straight from the head of Jonathan Knox, and before it got there it came straight out of the mouths of Cletus and Courtney Doe. Please don’t shoot the messenger, for that is all I am.
Third reason, the Does don’t particularly like other human beings. They enjoy ‘em well enough, but they don’t particularly like them, and so they prefer to keep their distance. Back when Courtney and Cletus (Courtney for the most part; folks seemed to like her better than Cletus for some reason) used to entertain the whole socialization thing, they noticed the human species (and this was true even before The Internet Culture Company came into play) is a very mentally-tribal bunch of queermoes. They like to find identity and self-value by aligning themselves with preestablished groups – especially preestablished groups whose followers, when described numerically, are impressive – and this has altered their psyches in a way that causes them to automatically perceive other members of their species either as a friend or as an enemy right off the bat; if they like the idea of you, they will consider you a friend and be decent to you, perhaps they’ll even treat you well; if they don’t like the idea of you, if there is anything about you that may theoretically tickle them as off or no or unworthy of trust and acknowledgment, you are automatically an enemy, and if it comes to it, you will be burned at the stake as such. In backwoods Bionic Wuester, which is about as disconnected from the rest of Bionic Earth as is possible despite The Internet Culture Company’s ubiquitous presence, the biggest group/tribe/identification honeypot of all is comprised of all the sloppy illiterate fucks who accept The Internet Culture Company as their lord and savior, or in other words, the liquidbrain fuckwits who buy whatever excrement The Internet Culture Company pumps out at the moment they pump that shit out. In other other words, the TICC-tacs. Cletus and Courtney Doe don’t want to fit in with the TICC-tacs, so The Internet Culture Company has as little presence in their home as possible, and they further exile themselves by refusing to update their hardware unless the End User License Agreement is updated to force them into it, which has yet to happen, and the Does thank God for that every day.
Fourth reason – oh yeah, bonus number four; not a couple reasons, not a few reasons, but some reasons, just like I planned all along – the Does just don’t need all that other technological mumbo-jumbo. I know, the first reason is that they don’t want it, but this is different because this reason isn’t a matter of want, it’s a matter of need. Cletus and Courtney Doe have one another, they have a device that fabricates food to put on their table, and they have a device that allows them to place their finger on the pulse of their town once a week just to make sure folks are still breathing out there. What else does one need? There’s no need to work for food, the upkeep around their place is easy enough, they bathe and wash their clothes in Shit’s Creek (the river that runs through the woods way back behind their house) and as for exercise, well, they get plenty enough exercise workin’ each other day in and day out, they’re both in objectively great shape.
[to be cont’d]
This has been the start of the eighth subchapter of the first chapter of the book Over the River: The Emancipation of Jonathan Knox. Here is everything you need to know about it:
Over the River
The Emancipation of Jonathan Knox
Over the River is the third book in a trilogy called The Fall of the Seven Earths. I’ve also released that trilogy as a single book called The Fall of the Seven Earths. Here’s everything you need to know about it:
The Fall of the Seven Earths
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If you’re there, hypothetical reader, thank you for being there. From this day on, we move forever forward~