Saigot dismissed the alarm and pressed POST. His illuminating text, rightly identifying the shit nature of the meme, was abstracted into a billion electrons, photons, and radio waves racing across the planet. The message was out now; the hard part was done. He leaned back against the soft padding of the chair from which he surveyed the confusion. How much damage had been done? What on earth possessed this lunatic to create something to utterly unhelpful?
–the camera zooms out of Saigot’s window to a cloudless night, panning up to a stark, ominously full moon. The moon dominates the frame and stares back at the viewer… or through them… for a second too long. The pan continues down to another building, another window, entering another room in a much rougher part of town–
Countrypunk would realize the irony of what had happened in a few hours, but for the moment nothing existed or mattered beyond the line of potash and the sharp card edge that neatly shaped it. When it finally met his standards he reached into the drawer but hesitated at the only thing his hand found. Slowly, he drew out the crazy straw. The last thing his father had given him before disappearing that night so many years ago. “Fuck you too.” He dismissed the old memory and it joined the nagging background noise with all the other things that would be a million miles away in a few seconds. At any other time he’d struggle to keep a steady hand but that promised ochre bliss gave him a terrifying focus. He raised the many-looped tube to his face and closed his eyes. The self loathing, the regret, even the tiny notification noise saying his post had gotten a reply all disappeared. He inhaled sharply and the potassium raced through him until there was nothing. Nothing but the dull roar of orange lightning.
Finishing this post and then seeing other lemmy clients show the text correctly was an unexpected treat.
I’d like to thank the jerboa devs as well as the US education system for making me the clown I am today.