UnBooks:Upbeat Aptitude
Warning: This article is bitter. You may want to prepare some sugar before proceeding.
The world should be enlightened, purged of all shadows and darkness; the world should be meticulously clean, stripped of all germs and pests; and the world should be a wonderous delight, inhabited by the purest fidelity. And so the sun sympathetically scanned the land of love; and so the lively city prospered in forever heyday, covered by a layer of shiny antibiotics gel; and so hopeful I lay, drifting carefree in eternal joy, with all negative emotions cleared from me.
Residence[edit | edit source]
My grand mansion was a picturesque place. Here, I always sleep on my back under a homey yellow light, while water stains bloomed on the wall like white and yellow chrysanthemums, and my own flatulence clouded myself in a dream-like atmosphere.
That was, however, all before 8 o'clock this morning, when I was punctually thrown out of my one-cubic-meter luxury residence for coming short of rent. As the door to my sweet home closed behind me, I couldn't help feeling slightly frustrated, for I could no longer train my gymnastic ability there; and my belongings were also left behind. But that was okay: I was again free, ready to start a new chapter of my exciting life, weighed down by nothing that may slow my advancing steps to success. Things only get better, for nothing could stop my willpower.
Backstory[edit | edit source]
Ever since scientists discovered microbes to be the causative agent of disease in the 19th century, humans have viewed the world differently. They developed a very healthy fear of germs, and monkeyed about to burn any perceived grime to the ground.[1] However, seeing that fire is not always economical, companies soon raced to develop means of mass killing to destroy all microbes. "Whoever kills more microbes makes more money!" Rallied under the call of the lucrative endeavor, a series of highly effective broad-spectrum antibiotics were developed; arcanin,[2] our first messiah, was one of them.
Repercussion[edit | edit source]
Singing Baby loudly to express my gratitude of the change, I bade farewell to my sweet apartment. The match box apartments have no windows, since their owners have sunshine in their brain. Even if it looked like a scaled down battery cage, I will savor the memories of those cozy luminance and warm flatulence, which I will always regurgitate and ruminate on.
Standing on the sidewalk, I rejoiced my brilliant life: an artificial breeze flowed incessantly, sending the aroma of synthetic grape flavor which leaves an aftertaste of polishing oil. Under the sky blue as a fairy tale and clouds flawless as angels' butts, with uplifting spirits, I decided to optimistically beg for a meal. Everyone has their difficult times, and I believe that delightful days will eventually come to me.
However, as I set eyes down the whole cityscape, I noticed the ground was covered with a layer of impoverished people, positive spirits just like me. They were probably performing a concert, and must be so devoted that they sang with frowning faces and gaping mouths. Some, curiously, were not moving, their skin patches of paleness, crimson, violet and turquoise. I greeted them all equally, for I was a detoxified being without any discrimination. So God just opened a window! In a living sea of my kind, writhing and bulging with a thousand excited limbs, I was no longer lonely with all the friends around; there was not even the risk of contagion, for they, like me, were too thoroughly cleansed without a trace of germs.
Begone![edit | edit source]
Before arcanin, the world stank: food could spoil within hours, cities emitted dreadful miasma, and even the fragrant male member smelled like insect repellent. Imagine taking showers every day to control the smell of sperm! Not in the modern world, where humans are surrounded by aromas of lavender, thyme, and 2-aminobenzoic acid methyl ester.
Of course, as massive amounts of arcanin were slathered in road asphalt, plumbing linings, and processed food (Chips that boost immunity!), bakers and brewers soon started to complain of diminishing quality of bread and wine: the yeast used in the fermentation was not exempted from the mighty arcanin. However, as the general public learned about the presence of microbes in their food, demonstrations and riots razed against the "microbial tyranny"; then was an age of heroes and a sanitation revolution, in which the people took direct action and suggested politely that the companies remove microbial-origin foods. The companies gladly followed.
Before that, science was a hoax, specially designed to downplay the microbial threat. Oblivious of the putrefying germ corpses in their food, people would fall ill, seek treatment, and generate revenue for the Big Science. Just as a clean food industry and a cleaner world thrived, I was born to witness a flawless society.
Rectum peristalsis[edit | edit source]
Back from recollection of the good old days, I was aroused for the memory of global cleanness. Feeling no limit in the front but slightly obstructed in the back, I decided to walk along the canyon of apartments, passing through a fog of splendid microcrystalline silica dust from zesty chimneys cooking their metallic stew. I paced endlessly forward, occasionally passing below holes and cracks in the sky. Over a layer of stiff plastic, the sun shone as an LED light bulb, ever bright, so that the city of virtue would never suffer a sad overcast day.
Walking, I was suddenly grasped by a fit of contraction, lovely, cathartic. Feeling the excitement in my veins and the warmth on my trousers, I knew I had defecated. As always, I was exhilarated at the smooth passage and the sensation of inner cleanness afterwards; I silently rejoiced my great appreciation of this ingenious bodily function.
Then I took off my trousers and affectionately inspected the stool. Excrement of adolescence it was, with a fair curvature and cracks like smiles. The valuable lesson I learnt was to pay attention to every piece of joy throughout life. In the raptures of existence, my heart sings.
Belief[edit | edit source]
Just around my time of birth, the world's greatest thinkers took an enlightening step: if unknown biochemical impurities had caused disease, they postulated, would it be possible that unknown psychological impurities were the root cause of the various societal ills? Dishonesty, psychopathy, extremism, lack of humor... If controlled, wouldn't the world be a better place?
With the antiseptic market gradually saturating, the big pharma took a bold step: they pushed through Ynothryxil, an anxiolytic with minimal side effects to decrease passive aggressiveness. Initial consumer response was fervent – no, they went bananas, having found the Viagra of their age. Countless other new medications followed, which eventually combined into chemical cocktails on sale that minimized "maladaptive human temperamental traits". Humans finally eliminated sin and crime for justice and peace.
Rectification[edit | edit source]
After a short stay with my stacks of friends, a slight hunger reminded me that I have not eaten for two days. I giggled at the foamy feeling tickling my stomach, which greatly boosted my motivation to work. What an elegant self-help technique! I might even consider starving myself to increase my productivity in the future. Immediately, I decided to search for a job.
Soon, waving goodbye to all my friends, I jumped into my new work uniform, adorned with a smiling human figure. "Our logo shows the deep-rooted history of the company. Steakhouses have cows in their logos, burger franchises have chicken in theirs, and we use the powerful imagery of human happiness to exemplify our global mission." My workplace trainer told me proudly, "Our company values sustainable development. We support the environment through constant work of recycling, regenerating food by taking in unused masses of proteins and fats of organic origin." I listened with intent, nodding copiously like a piston, feeling borderless wisdom course through me.
She explained, "Our company back up over 3 trillion customers. Whether a potluck, a busy workday dinner, or a nighttime craving, we provide them the best-quality meat products." She instructed me to wash my hands, rub disinfectants on all exposed skin, and cut off the nails; then she handed me a pair of gloves. "We are committed to the health of our customers and employees. Within the 13 years of our operation, not a single case of contamination has gone public." She told me proudly, her eyes glittering with devotion and excitement, "Now, are you ready for your new job?"
With personal protection on, I followed her to the heart of the production area. A gargantuan machine loomed over me. Above us the fluorescent light hummed softly; somewhere, a truck dumped off a squishy load.
Benefit[edit | edit source]
When I was young, there was a staphylococcus outbreak, in which a strain developed arcanin resistance and caused a pandemic. However, under the collaborative efforts of selfless healthcare workers and civilians, the situation was rapidly brought under control. Realizing that microbes could adapt to resist a biocide, scientists chose another method. They developed controlled replicative cellular automatons that predate exclusively on bacteria and fungi to obliterate them, completely replace them and occupy their ecological niche.
Humans won! Life expectancy soared, gastronomy climbed to unprecedented heights, plant tissue culture became a household hobby, and one could walk around freely with a ruptured appendix.
Throughout my childhood, news on the environment were very positive. Some sentences gave lighthearted riddles. "Nature's gene pool shifted toward high intelligence." "Mesmerizing changes precipitated in the ecological system." "The ratio of human biomass to wildlife biomass approached infinity."
But I also grew up in rumors. Anti-development terrorist groups roosted upon shady sites and coughed up decayed propaganda to serve the masses; they were fighters of Earth, the forgers of data, the fellators of cash.
With disregard to reason they rooted for "microbiomes"; ridden by overdue teenage angst, they committed sabotage and arson to lawful companies deemed to harm Nature; possessed by demons, they called against production and technology.
Fortunately, the dissenters were a minority, and had been the target of public reeducation. For example, in the newspaper these people were always caricatured as disease-ridden barbarian lepers, stinking for their refusal to kill the parasitic microbes on their bodies. But they managed to make their disgusting voices heard, and whenever I witnessed these insidious distortion of truth, my heart bled. Acting out of further disruption, the most common theories kept lamenting that "food chains" were being broken, but I still didn't see the point: chains only limit our actions, and I have seen the city grow and prosper, unchained.
Revel[edit | edit source]
Extreme prosperity brought about high demand, then mass automation; versatile "molecular printers" have evolved to extrude food with sub-micrometer resolution and controlled compositional precision. In this dewy factory, one such enormity sat squarely before me; painted only by decades of humble devotion, her LED lamps were affectionate eyes blinking at the operators and mechanics. To me, she was beautiful. And when such machines break down, human power is used to spin the handles.
Seeing the ground meat extrude with a metallic sheen from the nozzle, I gradually changed my mind: food companies have made food a true form of art, and full recycling a breeze. In addition, this company could stuck to traditional values and opt for hand-processing, willing to put the customers first! Thinking, I couldn't help spinning the handle faster and faster, putting my entire arm, body and soul into this fun job.
I was honored to join a standard canteen dinner with perfectly processed ground meat, accompanied by a TV broadcast about "countering allegations of prion contamination in company products". It was so fulfilling to enjoy the gain of my own labor. Halfway through the meal, the mechanics came through the front door, followed by the job trainer, laughing all the way as they accepted their lean sumptuous servings. It seems they have fixed the machine; I couldn't help feeling slightly discouraged, but I soon cheered myself up with the future development responsibilities to acquire multidisciplinary skills.
Beginning of an end[edit | edit source]
There was a time in my life when I wanted nothing but a fele-canis[3] for a pet. The novel fluffy pet combined the perks of both cats and dogs, and hit my cuteness P-spot right on.
Finally my dad bought a fele-canis for me, presumably just to shut me up. I was so happy! I named her "Whiskerbone" and spent a year playing with her, until the tragic staircase accident – in which I slipped down a flight of stairs and happened to land on poor Whiskerbone. Cushioned by her, I was unharmed, but she was crushed to death. To my horror, under the watery eyes and soft fur were layers of wires and coils, the chips inside her head scattering across the floor.
To console me, dad promised to have her "fixed". The hospital welcomed us with its luminous mouth, and I watched Whiskerbone transferred from a nurse to customer services, disappearing behind a "staff only" door. My tears just wouldn't stop. At the same time, dad decided to take me to the Recovery Department around the floor.
"Primary adolescent avolition," the attending physician condemned, having processed my profuse agony behind his reflexive glasses. Dad nodded. The doctor continued, "It seems that your child is confused about sex; common for this time, as people get too attracted to machines. This, however, can still be countered with proper sex education. Stay away from sexual individualism organizations, especially slogans like 'My sex, I rule.' They don't know what degree of damage they've caused." Pushing his glasses, he prescribed me medications. I didn't want them.
"Don't worry," his words were grape-flavored breeze, "You're eating your meals well, right? Medications to you are just like food. You eat them to stay healthy. They are the guardians of health."
"Be a good boy and take the meds, okay?" dad said.
Dad and I returned to the scene, and the rambling dusk ended with an uneventful cleanup. Two days later, Whiskerbone returned with a full recovery, and I knew it was time to move on. Outside, the first snowflakes of the human precipitation laced the ground, sound asleep.
Review of the day[edit | edit source]
Nightfall in this city was a wild clamor. People hopped up and danced, waving like windscreen brushes and spinning like electric fans, calling out in exalted voices and inviting me to join them.
No more microbes, no more putrefaction or disease; living with medicated morals, trust was no longer difficult to attain; most importantly, the world was free from stress – everything was under control. This is how everyone achieved the ancient pursuit of ataraxia and Zen. I took a stroll along the streets, and slept on the sea of humans when tired.
After a few hours of sound sleep, I woke up with the most uplifting spirits. The sun was so bright that it could go open circuit; its comforting streaks flowed along the cracked walls and the lively ground. Suddenly the windows in the microwave-sized apartments flung open, then men and women flew out like waterfalls, piling up on the sidewalk - it was 8 o'clock again. How happy I was! I always liked to meet new people and bond with them. I pranced toward them on wings powered by endless hope, in the middle of this wholesome, joyful world.