Infection

Wow. After calling just a little attention to that money grubbing link down in the corner, you people threw a bit over ten bucks my way. That means I am now honorbound to throw up at least 4 rants in September. If that rate keeps up, which I highly doubt, I'll also have to fulfil some of those other promises too. More importantly, I'll be able to afford Zelda when it comes out. Anyway though, the vast majority of you probably don't want to hear about me on my personal page here, so let's just have another story.

It's easy to point fingers. Thomas Edison perhaps? Alexander Graham Bell? No, long-distance vocal communication was an inevitable leap of science. Blaming the telephone companies is also rather pointless. The news! There's a nice target for our rage. In trying to warn people, they helped spread the infection faster than anyone. In hindsight though, it was the right thing to do. When they first interrupted regular programming, it was just a warning they gave. Many of us had the presence of mind to mute our TVs that very moment. We were saved. If no emergency bulletins went out, the reporters would still be infected, and we'd all be lost at 6 P.M. sharp.

Then there's the other questions we ask ourselves. How could it spread so quickly? The answer is simple. We lacked the very notion that an infection of this nature could even occur. We were utterly utterly defenseless. Used to a constant flow of information from all over the world, no matter where we went.

What is the infection? Some call it a virus, but it isn't. A virus is a micro-organism which infests cells, and uses those cells to replicate itself until they burst. The infection is a sound. A mere vibration of the air. Yet those who hear it are consumed by a form of madness, an insane desire to spread that sound to everyone they can. This makes it somehow more insidious than a virus. It leaves the host in perfect physical condition, but mentally a slave to some unwholesome unthinking will.

How can one tell who is infected? I'm surprised how often I still get this question. How could anyone be so isolated that they needn't fend off the crazed hordes daily? Those who have been infected often still carry out their daily routines like nothing has changed, but you can see it in their eyes. That wild look of desperation. Scanning for those still sane so that they might add to their number. Many wear earplugs as we do, attempting to gain our trust. The eyes though, that's the only true way to tell.

What exactly is the sound? We have the bliss of ignorance in this case. Perhaps it is a thing of incomprehensible beauty. A sound so wonderful that one cannot control the urge to share it with the world. More likely, it's a maddening scream. One which shatters the mind and leaves one a soulless monster. We don't even know where it came from, only that it is a sound which can be recreated by the human throat.

Thoughts like these do us no real good. The infection is everywhere, in nearly everyone, but we have survived. Our numbers may be few, but we can rebuild the world once this is over. Stay strong.

This newsletter will no longer be found in printed form. The post office in this town stayed clean for so long, but today that changed. The lot of them came to my house this morning, that wild eyed stare in all their eyes. Had I not had my shotgun at hand, they may have broken in and taken me too. This web page should endure forever though. My power comes from a personal generator, and the phone lines... those will always function. THEY make sure of that.

We cannot be too cautious.

It's been calm lately. Too calm. I wonder now if the madness has left my town. For months I've been taking my guns to the streets with me while I stock up on supplies. Rarely did a day go by when a gang of them came for me, reaching for my headphones, their gaping mouths screaming that which I blissfully did not hear.

Not this week however. I saw not a soul while looking for food, nor while stocking up on ammo. Perhaps I've killed them all in this area. Perhaps they've fled for greener pastures.

The message boards seem inactive lately too. Have some hubs gone down? There must still be some of you out there. The deaf for instance! The blessedly immune! Surely you must read these postings. Surely you're still out there! Give me some sign!

I can't take it anymore. No letters from friends. No books left to read. I've listened to every song in this house more times than I can remember. I'm desperate for some new form of mental stimulation! At this rate I may go mad without the help of the infection! If anyone still reads these postings, perhaps we could trade some CDs? Old ones of course! From before the infection began!

I have an idea everyone. Why don't we all meet somewhere in person? I realize we couldn't do that in the past, but things seem so much calmer now. We'll just wear a pink scarf to identify each other. No earplugs. No headphones. Just a gathering a friends, all uninfected, talking for the first time in months.

I realize this wouldn't have worked before. They read this page. They knew our plans. They must have stopped by now though. It'll be safe. Trust me. Haven't I always kept you safe? Just wear a pink scarf and come to my town.