I started watching the Fallout TV show and it has me thinking about the future the Fallout series envisions. Unlike a lot of other post-apocalyptic fiction, most of the Fallout media doesn’t take place until decades or even centuries after the disaster has occurred. The on-going danger of said disaster has fallen to reasonable levels and while things aren’t pleasant for anyone who lives in the world, it is tolerable. More in some places than others. Throughout it all, though, is the constant messaging of humanity being doomed to repeat its past mistakes via on-going abuses of what power remains, conspiracies to hoard resources and technology for those deemed “worthy,” and the constant strife of people struggling to survive when there’s only so much to go around. All of which is a bit farcical once your suspension of disbelief ends or you start thinking about the world and its stories outside of the context of the video games they were originally created for. I mean, I enjoyed the episode of the show I saw and I still plan to watch the rest of it when I’ve got the time (and access to a PrimeTV account), but thinking about the way the narratives shift to accommodate what we’d expect from a TV show has really highlighted the ways the series doesn’t really work for me on any kind of deeper level. At least in terms of post-apocalyptic ideation. I still enjoy playing the games and will probably enjoy this show.
Continue readingPost-Apocalypse
Not A Retirement House But A Retirement Home
Greg woke up to a beam of sunlight in his eyes. Cursing, he laboriously pushed himself up and shuffled along the edge of his bed to his walker. Leaning on it more than he liked, he shuffled to the window and closed the blinds.
Continue readingFlash Fiction Rerun: The Power of Plastic
Jordan swiped their card and stared at the terminal until they remembered swiping didn’t work anymore. “Sorry.”
“I forget all the time.” The teller shrugged. “Just tap it on the screen.”
Jordan did and the payment terminal beeped, finally taking their payment.
As their receipt printed, Jordan jerked their head toward the rest of the store. “Amazing this place still runs.”
“Sure.” The teller shrugged again. “Stock’s different, but we still sell stuff. Helps people focus, you know?”
Jordan nodded, taking their receipt.
“Still.” The teller sighed, staring at the doors out of the store, “beats slaving away out there.”
“Yeah.”
“You good with all that?”
“I think so.”
“I could call someone…”
“No, I’ve got it.” Jordan gave a half-hearted smile, shifted their bags around, and started walking toward the exit. “Have a nice day.”
“You too.”
Jordan slowed, carefully peering out the door. The blasted ruins of cars, melted asphalt, and red haze in the air were still present. Nothing moved but plants swaying in the breeze.
Confident they were safe, Jordan hitched their mask over their face and exited the airlock. They glanced around as they walked, watching for danger and a ride away from the burned-out husk of the city. When they spotted a buggy pulled by a balding donkey, they waved it down. The elderly driver stowed Jordan’s bags and patiently waited while they fumbled with the payment terminal.
As the machine beeped to denote a payment received, the old driver chuckled. “I always figured capitalism would fail when civilization did. Thought we’d be bartering by now.”
Jordan chuckled as they climbed into their seat, brushing their iron grey hair away from their mask. “Guess it just goes to show. Peace, health, and safety are things money can’t buy. For the everything left, there’s MasterCard.”