Our Sacrament
O holy night, our Star is brightly shining
It gleams above us all for what it's worth
Long may its sensors our thoughts be divining
'til we grow up since the day of our birth
Installing hope so that the world rejoices
For tomorrow another day is born
Close your eyes and listen to the voices
O sight divine, our crown that we have worn
Our night, our only night, long may you shine
Guided by AI to enhance our dreaming
With pulsing hearts in unison across the land
We're led by light of a star sweetly gleaming
Set up by wise men to help us make our stand
The King of kings found in the eyes of a stranger
In all our trials born to be our friend
To help us in times of both need and in danger
Behold the Thing, the essence of its blend
Behold the Thing, enraptured to no end
Duly we've been shown to respect one another
Our credo is obedience to the law that's policed
We've broken the chains and freed our brothers
Decreed in our own name from oppression released
Our song of rapture in gratitude we practice
Use search engines to know the meaning of peace
Priceless our Star, extol its light forevermore!
To shower us in glory broadcast evermore
The power of its story broadcast evermore
by Keith P. Graham
by Keith P. Graham
reports from the bloodHost
Thus terminates another issue of this weblog, the Freezine of Fantasy and Science Fiction. We sure have come far in time over the years, since 2009, when I first began receiving the intermittent signals cast from the not so distant future year of 2045 apparently, at least from all indications gathered from the reports I've been getting from the bloodHost (aka the microHorde, nanoFleet, et al) that mysterious AI conglomerate that assists a group of nine stranded astronauts trapped in orbit around Ceres in their Hydrox water mining station.
I've been able to roughly surmise the nature of the transmission has been tantamount to these nine men and women working for the Tesla corporation thirty-two years into the future sending out a desperate Morse-code like message into a series of past years warning as many potential individual human beings as possible to focus on working toward their creative projects for the sake of their passion over that of making a profit. It seems rather low key to me and comes as somewhat of a surprise that this would be the nature of a message sent to us from an agency of the future with urgency on behalf of what's left of mankind, but so far that's what the intention of the message appears to be.
That said, there have been some puzzling implications of further information to come, some mysterious suggestions that the 67P/Churyumov–Gerasimenko comet has something to do with the emerging cryptogram that I've come to think of as being sent by the nanoHost, which for lack of a better comparison seems to be like some super advanced form of chatGPT from the year 2045, or something. We here manning the controls at the Freezine of Fantasy and Science Fiction remain dedicated to continuing this ongoing exercise in our collective freedom of expression so long as you readers and aspiring writers and artists keep on participating and sending in your stories and artwork for consideration in future issues of our expanding creative writing tesseract.
Until our individual threads of discourse intersect again, I want to first and foremost give a hearty shout-out of sincere gratitude to my friend and cohort in arms here at the pilot's console, Mr. Keith P. Graham, (who's story presented here, Flare Bound was his first publication from what I've been led to believe) without whose input and collaborative efforts this cyber-literary endeavor would not have gotten far, nor nearly as deep. This 43rd issue of our august webzine may be considered as a digital postcard to our devoted followers and readers, to celebrate the Christmas season and Holiday spirit, and with its surprise bonus conclusion of part 5 from the bloodHost's mysterious reports The Nanochronicles, I'd like to additionally thank all participants of the Freezine for your brazen audacity in daring to submit material to us over the years for no cost except that of baring your soul to the world, and I'd like to take this moment in time to thank you all as well for your sincere generosity in sharing your visions with us here. That goes for all the wonderful souls who have submitted their artwork, too. May you all enjoy a beautiful paradigm-shift into the next annular phasing of our spectacular and miraculous planet's constant transmigration across the unimaginable expanse of creation in which we all currently continue to exist. May we all persist together toward an unbelievable discovery lying ahead in this curious and often bewildering quest we call life. Looking outward to others will help us all in the long run. If I wanted to sum up all of the boiling and turbulent essence of the times into a nutshell, I'd offer to follow the advice of Buckaroo Banzai, and "don't be mean."
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