First year I got in, just a runner-up. Next time, got third place and a runner-up story — so a total of two. And now, I muthafuckin rawk the party with three! Goddamn, I'm a badass...
So, here's the three that got in:
— My Time Travels
When I go back, I do the really important stuff. All those old bluesmen that died in obscurity. The garage bands that never got off the ground. All those invisible geniuses.
Lost in time, I find them.
Cochlear implants recording onto quantum memory stored in the nannites in my blood.
Melodies of ghosts. Their rhythms are encoded in my hair.
For all of history -- I rescue them.
Also, I visit the same bar twenty-five years ago. Sit next to the same man. Buy him the same drink.
The only time I ever see my dad.
— The Cycle
Sorry to break it to you, but the future isn’t all laser beams, flying cars and robot slaves. No Moon colonies or settlements on Mars.
It’s pretty fucking boring. We didn’t have the time or energy to make all the cool stuff you always wanted. Because we had to clean up after you. Fix the atmosphere. Reverse global warming. Figure out how to live without oil and without meat.
And now, we’ve got a whole lot more problems to deal with. But why should we worry about it though?
Didn’t stop you guys.
Progress, as you know, means moving beyond the past. It means destroying your past.
It’s telling your parents: “I am not going to live up to your expectations. I will disappoint you.”
It’s smashing outdated morality. Redefining what it means to be human. Evolve.
Just as modern man wiped out Neanderthal. Europeans killed the natives of wherever they “discovered.”
You must annihilate the past, or be doomed to repeat it.
That is why I send messages to you in the past.
To let you know that the future is coming back to kill you all.
(and here's all the rest that didn't get in...)
— The Future Says Hello
Yes, I am contacting you from the future.
Time travel -- when it comes to transmitting information -- turns out to be pretty easy for us to do.
Sending actual people back, though. That’s where it gets tricky. Over ninety percent of them end up going insane.
Those people on the street, talking to themselves. Smelling of car exhaust and urine. They are from the future. Everything they say is the truth.
Most of other people we’ve sent back, forgot why they were sent back. Their missions.
Your job, is to remind them.
To kill you all.
— The Killing Game
What most people do when they go back in time, is they kill Hitler.
That never solves anything, though. Because, of course, this is not allowed. Custodians have to go back and fix it all. Stop you before you do it.
They clean up, the Custodians.
And everyone knows this, so we all just do whatever we want.
Go back in time, and try to lay Marilyn Monroe. Cleopatra. Rasputin. Jesus.
Try to kill John Lennon or Kennedy before their assassins.
But YOU can kill. We will not stop you.
Because that’s History.
— Cease and Desist
Yes. Just so you know, we can cure all diseases in the future.
We can re-grow your body from your frozen head. Cloning? Reanimation? No problem. We do it at school science fares like you used to with those lousy papier-mâché volcanoes.
We can fix you in the future.
But we’re not going to anymore. We’re tired of you taking our jobs. Moving into our neighborhoods. Taking advantage of the system.
Why do WE have to take care of you? Solve your own problems.
Think that’s selfish? Well, we did learn from the best.
You left us to clean up this fucking mess, the least you could have done was left us some good pop culture to sift through.
Some good music to listen to as we dug through all the landfills -- properly disposing of and recycling all the things you thought burying would get rid of. It would have made that time go by a lot quicker.
You could have made some decent movies to watch after spending all that time totally overhauling the infrastructure to support nonpolluting, clean energy plants and distribution.
Yeah, the future thanks you.
— Notes and Rhythm
Your electronic music -- what you thought music would sound like in the future -- it makes us laugh.
Techno, trance -- no one could ever listen to that.
We listen to the music of women ovulating. Cancer eating the brains of the poor. The harmonies in the brains of sharks as they process in primitive robot brains, the unstoppable need to kill.
That is, if sharks still existed.
I’ve spent six straight weeks, no sleep, listening to “Pi.” Saw the face of God and bit off his nose. Ejaculating anthrax spores in divine ecstasy.
THAT is music.
My brain is plugged into the network right now. As I send this message back in time to you, I can feel the contractions of orgasm from two continents over. A woman is being worked by the pneumatic cock of her Grinder boyfriend.
Genitals replaced with machinery...
Back at my apartment, my wireless heart sends electrical signals to nanites in my blood. Telling them to keep collecting oxygen.
Haptic taste buds are relaying the cooked stillbirth of a malnourished third-world American.
Yes. This is your future.
Does it frighten you?
Because you cannot stop it.
— Advice From Tomorrow
People jumping in front of trains for no reason.
Those little camping stoves they’d find in parked cars full of dead people.
The instructions for mixing bathroom cleaners on all those websites.
That’s how it started. The first shot we fired. We did it out of mercy, really.
Because if you knew the future that waits for you all -- what you were really doing to yourselves -- you would end it right now.
You do not want this future.
Kill yourselves now.
It’s your only hope.
Kill yourself to stop your future from happening.
Also, good buddy Gavin got a story published in there as well... Great fucking story Otto!