Klatu Barata Nikto

For my creative writing class, I had to write a humor essay. I'm really not sure how to do it, but this is my first attempt.

Klatu Barata Nikto

Unlike most people I know now, I grew up at a time where the internet was a relatively new thing to the public. Game system developers would brag that they were working on 56k modems for their game systems, and then sell them for a great deal of money. Movies and TV would treat the internet as some other worldly dimension, in which existed lifeforms that either worked for our benefit or desired some way to get out and destroy us. Either way, the internet was the hip, cool thing, so I was excited when we got our first computer back in 1998. It was cheap and already outdated, running Windows 95 and the most advanced games in it's library were Unreal and Diablo.

A year later, news reports on TV began to warn us about the potential end of the world, as the Y2K bug was quickly entering into the world's conscience. The idea behind it was that when the clocks turned the year from 1999 to 2000, it was going to force computers the world over to crash, releasing all the nukes, obliterating the financial systems of the world and, I assumed, give sentience to every robot in the world beginning the robot apocalypse. Bomb shelters were in high demand, and grocery stores were filled with patrons buying as many canned foods as they could without realizing even these have an expiration date. I can only imagine their face when 2000 rolled around we were crushed under the heel of our new robot masters.

Our fascination with our own ultimate destruction seems to be a universal factor with the human race. Ever since the beginning of religious institutions, we've had many ideas as how this would come about. The longest withstanding is the Book of Revelations, which states that the Dragon (Satan) will be thrown to Earth after a battle in hell and give his authority of the world to a giant ten-headed leopard/bear/lion. Let's call him Ted. Ted will arrive, with ten heads, ten crowns and one head will be wounded. In the Book of Revelations, humanity is meant to praise the beast as it's new god. People have always said this is symbolic, that the beast itself will be whatever political figure they don't like. But I always preferred a literal translation. But this was written when the most advanced we had involved shooting a rock from a catapult. I can imagine things won't go so easy for the beast these days.

When Ted arrives from the sea, the initial shock will send people into a panic, leading to a very poorly done evacuation. The military would throw whatever they can at him, nukes, jet fighters, giant electric fences and possibly a satellite cannon that shoots black holes from space. But if life imitates art, it'll be killed by either a ridiculous weapon that breaks all laws of thermodynamics, a giant robot (which hopefully wouldn't join the robot rebellion), or another giant monster. Would that cease the end of the world, or would it just create a brand new way for us all the die.

As we edge closer to the dreaded date of December 21^st, 2012, new tales our imminent deaths have propped up and spread thanks to the wonderful tool known as the internet. We have a solar flare hitting us with microwaves, thus turning the world into an burnt popcorn kernel. We have a polar shift that will change the polar icecaps and turn Minnesota tropical and Brazil into northern Canada. But the most obvious threat is from the veritable Planet X.

According to bestselling author, Duncan Lunan, a mysterious planet known as Planet X will hit, or glide by the Earth and destroy either us or merely our atmosphere. His sources are obviously trustworthy, being aliens from the planet Upsilon Bootes. I, however, have my doubts. I can never trust aliens that come from something called Planet X, as I can only assume they're trying to lull us into a fall sense of security so they could send King Ghidorah or a giant robot that can only be stopped when someone says the words, “Klatu Barata Nikto”. Let's hope when they come, the giant robot will join the robot rebellion and kill King Ghidorah as he is just a weak fleshling.

Whatever is the case, the end will be coming at the end of this very month. But I have no regrets. I have the internet, and have spent the good portion of the time wasting it on watching cat videos.

I really hope it's at least decent.

Lilly Plays Dodgeball

This was a story I had written for my creative writing class. It's up to the total standards of what I want, but I'm fairly satisified with it.

    The Price family has always had the same type of hair. Dark hair, black as a raven. If you've ever seen any of those old Vincent Price movies based off of Edgar Allen Poe stories, you would appreciate the irony. It's been that way for generations, but there was one exception. My younger sister, Lilly. She had hair the color of tin. Lilly was a girl that you would love to hate. Her face was always expressionless.  She very rarely ever smiled or frowned. The one time she did, the family dog ran and hid in the corner. Ever since she was a baby, people would tell her she had beautiful eyes. When I looked in them, I could see only a hint of disdain for all organic life. She had no real friends, only two imaginary ones she's had since she was two she named Willy (she would always say he was a walking orca) and Teresa. At the age of eleven, she would still talk to them. If this had been a pack of animals, she would've been ostracized as a freak. Instead, she was always the center of attention at home, the special snowflake if you will.

    I was never really sure about elementary school life for her. No one would talk to her or about her when I was around. I would assume some rumor would exist of her, but everyone almost tried to ignore she existed. If I had seen her in the cafeteria, no one would be sitting at the same table as her, unless they couldn't help it. I've seen people eat on the floor entirely because no other spots were available. What she had done or what had happened remains a mystery to me.

    Now, it's middle school. Myself, Howard Price (only making the hair and name connection worse, but thankfully obscure for my age group), was in eighth grade and my sister was in sixth grade. It's been three years since we were last in same school and the first time Lilly had to meet new people. One thing I've always hated about this school is that eighth grade and sixth grade gym classes shared the same times and the same gym, made worse by both of our classes being at the same time. As my class waited on the bleachers for our teacher to come out, the sixth grade class was getting started. The class seperated into two groups and went to opposite sides. Dodgeball, it seems. Lilly will probably be one of the first gone, she wasn't athletic in the least and her strange appearance only makes her stand out more.

    Or so I would've thought. Her side was quickily eliminated, but Lilly was dodging left and right, using her teammates as human shields against the barrage of volleyballs. At least, Lilly was left. I could see Lilly, stop, look down to the ground and just stand there, as if waiting for her inevitable execution. Too bad I had to lock up my cell, I would've wanted a picture of this moment. Just as the ball flew towards her, a giant hand came from the ground and grabbed it. It was black, nails sharp and yellow. It's length stretched that of Lilly's body. The walls and floor of the gymnasium shook and cracked. Black tentacles shot from the cieling, crashing into the lights with glass shattering everywhere. The gym, which had been a light room filled only with laughing and the screaching of sneakers was now dark and filled with crashes and screams of terror. From the main crack of the floor, two figures came from the abyss. One was around nine feet tall, muscular like a body builder on steroids and completely black except for a white patch on each side of the face, which could have been it's eyes. It's mouth was agape, with teeth as sharp and long as knives and a tongue like a red tentacle, ready to grasp anything it touched. The other was around twelve feet, much more lanky than it's friend, but had sewn shut eyes and no mouth. But it's fingers were likes spears, yellowish in whatever remained of the light.

    The two creatures gathered up whatever balls they found on the ground on Lilly's side. Once they were done with this task, they proceeded to throw them at whatever sixth graders were left in the room that hadn't run way or hide under the bleachers. With their task done, they crept back into the abyss. And there Lilly stood, with a slight smirk on her face. She only said two words, and those two words have stuck in my mind forever since.

    "I win."

 I almost want to redo this completely, but for now, it fulfills the criteria needed for a good grade.