swap

fuck computers

It moans.

Throws me off. I was about to open the motherboard housing unit in its chest, when it began its procedure. You can't really turn these fuckbots off. Not like you would think. Always on. Always ready. To fuck. But that was not part of the marketing slogan.

There's a mechanical switch behind the ribs, on the left side. You can reach it with your hand, if you know where to make the opening. It's used for maintenance, or emergency, or who-the-fuck-knows. It's not exactly mentioned in the manuals. All we know about the architecture is from, well, doing this. I'm four fingers deep in synthetic flesh, playing its rib cage like a blind xylophone player from the inside, looking for a fucking button. This will void your warranty.

It moans again. Must be a jailbroken model. Maybe running on some premium subscription I didn't know about. Either way, its pain receptors were not registering anything. Usually they cry, begging you not to hurt them. It can get pretty convincing, all fine-tunable with an app. But a sliver of a semblance of self-preservation is usually hard-coded in for when you get too rough. It's not like the corpo cares, if you mutilate it beyond repair. They just want you to know it's real. This one just moans.

I glance over at the bed, the kid is cowering in the corner. I almost asked him what twisted shit he was getting up to with it. I knew he wouldn't tell me. That was between him, the bot and 196 advertising partners.

It moans again. Coincidentally just as I feel a click. Its chest bursts open like a church door in space. The pressure release squirts a blue pollockian ejaculate over my face. This part sucks.

"Unauthorized access."

Okay, it's not jailbroken. I punch it in the face. It's a stupid reflex I can't shake. It doesn't achieve anything and it fucking hurts. Not like the old cathode ray tubeheads though, now those were fist fights.

"Unauthorized access."

What a character. It keeps repeating the phrase in its default seductive tone. Anyway, I have about 30 seconds before it fries itself in self-defense. Corpocops are probably already on their way here.

From behind me the kid stutters: "I.. it's not for real..."

"Unauthorized access." It keeps moaning.

Now I'm both hands wrist-deep where its rib cage used to be, holding onto a motherboard inside, about to rip it out. What?

"I.. I programmed her to uh... act like that..."

"Unauthorized access."

So that's his thing.

More blue conduit liquid sprays into my face as the motherboard comes out. She finally shuts up.

Fuck. I mean it shuts up.

fuck_computers

ink2

analognowhere

the last two cigarettes on earth

"I guess we all just wondered too much to care to try."
  - Jezebel, ca. 73 atd

A set of two objects from analognowhere.

Price realized: -

Both objects contain traces of the author's DNA. Sold as art installations not intended for human consumption.
Can be sold separately.

Contact me privately with an offer.
Serious buyers only.

Object 1

Foundation: Philip Morris ČR Sparta Blue cigarette

Purposely dipped in a large bottle of KOH-I-NOOR black ink, later used in a promotional photoshoot on META's Instagram.

Object 2

Foundation: Philip Morris ČR Sparta Blue cigarette

Accidentally spilled over with ALPA FRANCOVKA (lihový bylinný roztok) after sitting in a repurposed PEPSI can. The tip of the object was then dipped in a mug of industrial turpentine.

img

"Naysayers!"

Said Owen Wilson and proceeded to grind down a set of rails. The knowledgable know it wasn't him, the deniers vouch for the actor's skating skill and the rest don't care.