Troim-Kryzl

Author: Troim Kryzl

  • Exo-Ho-Ho-Ho

    „… and don‘t mess up your lines. Whatever happens, you go Ho-Ho-Ho. Nothing else. No yippee. No Ha-Ha-Ha. No yuck – what the hell? No wisecrack. No talking back to the clients. You go Ho-Ho-Ho, and that‘s it. And you shut up. And you go Ho-Ho-Ho again. Got it, Junior?“

    The tone alone would warrant my good old favourite of a response to bossy behavior, as in go f*ck yourself, combined with a proudly raised middle finger. But this is 2046, I‘m as broke as the peoples republic of Sotimmona, and just out of what they call prosocial rehab. The next middle finger will get me straight back into prison. Not that I‘m not getting used to it. Spent most of the last ten years inside. The beds are lousy, the food is rotten, that much I can take. But even thinking of the back breaking work shuts me up all right. This time, I’ll do what it takes to stay outside. In my best neutral-to-subservient voice I go:

    „Yes sir. Got it, sir. Will Ho-Ho-Ho, sir.“

    Doesn’t impress the master of my universe who shoots back:

    „Shut up, Junior, we‘re not a debating club. Get dressed, and get going. Stage 5. When the lights go on, you go Ho-Ho-Ho. The elves will distribute some giveaways from your bag. You go Ho-Ho-Ho. And keep it up, until the lights go out. Got it, Junior?“

    This time I nod, silently. Does the trick. My tormentor walks away, leaving me to figure out how to get into the red heap of stuff that is supposed to be my costume, and how to operate it. I‘m five feet three, but there‘s is cloth for an eight feet giant, at least.

    I decide to start with the enormous head. It’s super bloody heavy, but I manage to lift it an put it on. Eureka, I can see, through the masks nostrils. Ingenious. Vision a bit blurred, because of the white moustache blocking part of the view, but this will do. Except I can‘t carry this weight any second longer. Have to let myself sag to the floor, to get some of the weight off my shoulders, before struggling out of the damn head. 

    „What the hell, Junior? Don’t tell me you never operated an exo-skeleton before? If ever I get hold of the idiot at HR who hires you kind of idiots for a living, he‘s rat food. Stand up and shut up, or you won‘t be ready on time.“

    My urge to middle finger him is only very partly chilled by the fact that the boss is right, for once. This is my first exo-skeleton, and seeing him activate it, it starts to make sense. I don‘t need to carry the weight of the head after all. I only need to climb up into the thighs, grab the steering handles, understand how to make it walk, right leg, left leg, step, step, step, step, stop. Piece of cake. This contraption is good at walking and standing, no balancing skills input required from my side, a little steering is all it takes.

    „That‘s it, Junior. Let me just get this moustache combed out of the way, we don‘t want you to stumble into the clients, fun as that would be. And don‘t forget: Ho-Ho-Ho. You go Ho-Ho-Ho. No more, no less, just Ho-Ho-Ho. Stage 5. Hit it, Junior!“

    No time to appreciate my bosses skill at teaching a newbie the exoskeleton 101 in less than ten minutes. The light is on. Supersize me walks one, two, three, four slow steps towards the big red number five and the two tiny elves – wait a minute, are these real eight year olds, or what?! What the hell happended to the abolition of child labor? – with the enormous brown bag. The elves look kind of worried. Something at the back of my head, of perhaps my boss backstage, screams „Don‘t forget the Ho-Ho-Ho“, and I utter my first Ho-Ho-Ho.

    Wow. The inbuilt sound system is powerful. That Ho-Ho-Ho is totally not my voice. Wouldn‘t have managed that kind of booming sound at twenty. No wonder I‘m not allowed to say anything but Ho-Ho-Ho. With that kind of size and that kind of voice I might be able to start a riot.

    Would love to use that voice. To protect the poor elves. One just got bitten by a particularly aggressive little pest of a client. Five years old, at most, but already well versed in the art of torturing less lucky folk. Didn’t get a second giveaway, each kid only gets one, and bit the elf. And what must be dad only tut-tutting along.  Would be great to yell at the little pest. Something on the lines of „Stop that! And give back the toy. Bad boys don’t deserve toys!“. With my voice, I‘m sure the message would hit home. But I go Ho-Ho-Ho. Have to go Ho-Ho-Ho. Not going back to prison. Have to go Ho-Ho-Ho.

    Ho-Ho-Ho. This bloody kid is vomiting all over the place. Are the parents going to do something about it, or what? Yep, finally, sort of. They are yelling at the elves to get someone to clean up the mess. Ho-Ho-Ho. Someone in an unidentifiable uniform brings a sign „Cleaning in process – Robocleaner on it‘s way“. Very low tech, doesn‘t help with the look and smell of the mess the kid made, but quietens down the parents a notch. Better than noting. Ho-Ho-Ho.

    The uniformed one brings what must the Roboclean, defines the zone to be cleaned with what looks like the foam referees use on the football pitch, activates the device and walks away, taking with him the sign. Ho-Ho-Ho. 

    My inner former manager identifies opportunities for quick and easy efficiency gains: Invest in a couple more Robocleans, skip the sequence with sign, fire half of the uniformed ones, should work. Ho-Ho-Ho. Am I starting to miss the spreadsheets of my youth? Is this senile nostalgia? Oh no, one more vomitter. Ho-Ho-Ho. 

    Better think about something else, anything else, preferably without a smell. Like robotics. Progress really has been slow. The Roboclean wouldn’t have surprised anyone back in 2026. Same for my exoskeleton. They need some stupid eighty year old without a proper pension plan to go Ho-Ho-Ho and „drive“ Santa, in 2046, instead of going full robot giant?! Ha-Ha-Ha.

  • Brave New Care

    This is so wrong. Totally, globally, universally wrong. As if he was doing harm. Him, the genius, doing harm! Well, now he’d love to, deep down, sort of. But one doesn’t beat up ones mother. That’s just not an option. Even if ones ears still ring with her shrill voice:

    “Dagon? Dagon?! What the hell, Dagon?!”, she went. “Why the hell did you dress up poor granny like that? And she’s all shaky and confused, the poor thing. What the hell has been going on here?!…”

    One of the few good things about this mother of his is that there’s no need to answer. She does all sides of whatever talking all by herself. She pretends to ask, you pretend to wait for her to stop talking to answer, she rants on and on, until she suddenly runs out of steam and goes “Oh, whatever, why would I even care?…”.

    Dirty socks in the bathroom, cat food on the couch, car parked on the herbs patch, granny in a Spider-Man outfit – moms answer to this kind of petty detail is a gush of rhetorical questions.

    Both Dagon and his dad have their would-tell-you-if-you’d-let-me-face ready for the occasion. They know to wait patiently for the soundtrack to subside. Mom will wash the socks, clean the couch, plant new herbs and get granny into her usual casual, at some point. It would be more efficient if she’d get on the task right away, but because of some quirk in her setup she has to rant first. Life can be tough in this way, but guys can handle.

    Thinking about handling tricky stuff, Dagon turns his attention back to his future carebot. 

    Technically, Carl is his dads homework, a humanoid robot supposed to learn to navigate a non-standardised environment of the living quarters type.

    Carls prototype brothers Adam and Ben try their luck on the shop floor and in the open space office, respectively. The three of them share experiences. Dad has promised his boss that Adam, Ben and Carl will coalesce into David, one omnitasking robot fit for any purpose in any environment very, very soon. Many, many people will pay very, very big bucks to buy many, many Davids. This will make dad filthy rich enough to retire to the Bahamas. He will hopefully take mom with him, leaving the house for Dagon and his sister to enjoy. Not ideal. Dagon isn’t keen on his sister, and even less so on her friends. But still a huge improvement on the current arrangement.

    Dagon has stakes in this project, high stakes. He needs to understand what went wrong and goes: “Carl, do your hear me?”. That’s Carls cue to switch himself on. “Carl, that’ll be all.” makes him turn himself off. Having an omnitasking robot around can get messy. One needs an off switch.

    “Good afternoon, Dagon. How can I be of assistance?”.

    This is of course Carls standard response. Never would he go „Now’s not the time, Dagon, busy here.“ or „Oh no, not you again, here we go for one more futile request.“ The whole point of an omnitasking robot is that’s always ready to do whatever you want him to do.

    “Carl, why did you dress up granny as Spider-Man?”.

    Dagon has learned to start conversations with Carl with simple questions. Interacting with him gets complicated enough soon enough.

    “Thank you for your question, Dagon. Granny Rose asked for a red dress. The Spider-Man costume was the only red dress available and it fits. Anything else you need, Dagon?”.

    Dagon can’t help admiring Carls creativity. He didn’t go „There are no red dresses in the cupboard, project aborted.“ or order a red dress from an online shop. He has internalised the rule of never no shopping sprees implemented after the chocolate spread flood and found a solution in the cellar, where mom keeps Dagons old Halloween costumes. Good boy robot! Except mom said granny was messed up. Time for one more simple question:

    “Carl, how did granny behave during the act of dressing?”.

    “Granny Rose voiced some concerns and displayed light physical resistance, especially around the removal of her panties. Under these circumstances her dressing took three more minutes than I anticipated. I apologize for the delay. Anything else you need, Dagon?”.”

    Uh oh, here we go, again. Dagon is by now familiar with the meaning of „light physical resistance“. From the point of view of a two hundred pound robot, most of what a frail little old lady can achieve is very light resistance indeed. Granny probably screamed and kicked wildly. Mom didn’t mention any injuries, though. Carl didn’t cause her bodily harm in his quest to get her into the costume fast. Good boy robot!

    Would have been better if he had stopped. Dagon carefully words his next question:

    “Carl, did it occur to you that granny wanted you to stop dressing her?”.

    “Yes, Dagon, I considered this hypothesis. It had to be discarded. Granny Rose didn’t want to remain naked. She explicitly said so. Anything else you need, Dagon?”.

    “Carl, did it occur to you that granny would have preferred to get back into her pyjamas, instead of staying either naked of getting dressed up as Spider-Man.”

    “Yes, Dagon, I considered this hypothesis. It had to be discarded. Pyjamas are nightwear, granny was to be dressed for the day. And she clearly asked for a red dress.“

    Dagon wonders if there’s just a hint of wounded pride in the omnibots voice. Carl and his kind are meant to come with something akin to motivation, an urge not just to do things, but to do them well. Carl faced an obstacle, no red dresses in grannys cupboard, came up with a solution, and wants to be praised for it. But why did he insist on the red dress? Or did he? Dagon asks:

    „Carl, did you tell granny that there are no red dresses in her cupboard?“

    „Yes, Dagon. I told granny that there are no red dresses in her cupboard. But she cried, and said it needed to be red. She pointed to the picture of the young couple with the baby above her bed, to show me how red the dress had to be.“

    Dagons brain insists oh showing him a picture of him still co-housing with mom and dad twenty years from now, in abject misery.

    Above grannys bed there’s a picture of her and her late husband with baby mom. Grannys younger self wears a red dress all right, but this dress is of course long gone. Granny is missing her late husband, she would like to turn back the clock to happier days. Any human carer would have understood, provided some comfort, dressed her up into whatever is available – and perhaps made a mental note to order a red dress suitable for granny’s current circumstances, if the funds permit. But try explain this course of action to an omnibus…

  • La paix

    Dans notre quartier, dans notre quartier,
    Dans d'autres quartiers, dans d'autres quartiers,
    On est beaucoup, on est beaucoup,
    A être gentils, à être gentils,
    Et pas que les filles, et pas que les filles.

    On ne crie pas, on ne crie pas,
    On ne tape pas, on ne tape pas,
    Prend pas couteau, prend pas couteau,
    Et flingues zéro, et flingues zéro.
    On est gentils, on est gentils,
    Et pas les filles, et pas que les filles.

    On bosse très dur, on bosse très dur,
    sans être sûrs, sans être sûrs,
    De se loger, de se loger,
    De bien manger, de bien manger,
    D'avoir du fric, d'avoir du fric,
    Pour les petits trucs, pour les petits trucs,
    Qui font du bien, qui font di bien.

    C'est pas facile, c'est pas facile,
    Même sans la guerre, même sans la guerre,
    Sans imbéciles, sans imbéciles,
    Qui foutent en l'air, qui foutent en l'air,
    Nos petites vies, nos petites vies.

    Maintenant en guerre, maintenant en guerre,
    C'est un enfer, c'est un enfer:
    Des tas de bombes, des tas de bombes,
    Des tas de tombes, des tas de tombes,
    Maisons cassées, maisons cassées,
    Familles brisées, familles brisées.
    Et ça coûte cher, et ça coûte cher,
    Cette maudite guerre, cette maudite guerre.

    On n'en veut pas, on n'en veut pas.
    On n'y va pas, on n'y va pas.
    On reste gentils, on reste gentils, 
    Et pas que les filles, et pas que les filles.

    On veut la paix, on veut la paix,
    On veut la pais et on la fait.

  • Die Welt wird fair

    Alt und fröhlich, alt und fröhlich,
    Verfolge ich, verfolge ich,
    Im online Raum, im online Raum,
    Was heut so geht, was heut so geht.

    Pläne, Ziele, Pläne, Ziele,
    Lebensstille, Lebensstile,
    Wer warum was, wer warum was,
    Freude und Hass, Freude und Hass.

    Ich seh Wandel, ich seh Wandel,
    Manchen Rückschlag, manchen Rückschlag,
    Gewalt und Krieg, Gewalt und Krieg.
    Doch insgesamt, doch insgesamt, 
    Geht das voran, geht das voran:
    Die Welt wird eins, die Welt wird eins,
    Und dann auch fair, und dann auch fair,
    Und dann auch fair, auch fair!

  • Happy Mortality

    We don't last long, we don't last long,
    Compared to trees, compared to trees.
    We are perishable, we are perishable,
    Turn into waste, turn into waste.

    What's our best before, what's our best before?
    Is it thirty, is it thirty?
    Is it forty, is it forty?
    Fifty even, fifty even?
    If we're old enough, if we're old enough,
    We know in retrospect, we know in restropect,
    When was peak us, when was peak us.

    What happens afterwards, what happens afterwards?
    Loss of stamina, loss of stamina,
    Less agility, less agility,
    Less flexibility, less flexibility,
    Slower to adapt, slower to adapt.
    That's what age does, that's what age does.

    It's ok though, it's ok though:
    Who'd wanna live forever, who'd wanna live forever?
    I sure do not, I sure do not.
    Danced a good life, danced a good life,
    Still do some stuff, still do some stuff,
    Happy mortality, happy mortality,
    Happy mortality, fading fine!

  • Karlsruhe, Lagos

    Karlsruhe, Lagos, Karlsruhe, Lagos,
    Nigeria and Germany, Nigeria and Germany,
    Sounds like worlds apart, sounds like worlds apart.
    Is it really, is it really?
    In some ways yes, in some ways yes,
    In many ways no, in many ways no.

    Look at us on our phones, look at us on our phones:
    Same apps, global brands, same apps, global brands,
    Same social media, same social media.
    By the way, talking of which, by the way, talking of which:
    We do English, we do English.
    Not like Cambridge, not like Cambridge,
    But it works for us, but it works for us.

    We get entertained, we get entertained:
    Bolly-, Holly-, Nollywood, Bolly-, Holly-, Nollywood,
    Action and romance, action and romance,
    Same plots everywhere, same plots everywhere.
    Music and football, music and football,
    Plenty global players, plenty global players.
    Business and politics, business and politics,
    Donald Musk and Elon Trump, Donald Musk and Elon Trump,
    Love them or hate them, love them or hate them,
    Some names we know, some names we know.

    So much so same, so much so same,
    And getting more so, and getting more so.
    We're not worlds apart, we're not worlds apart.
    We're in weird mix, we're in weird mix.
    We need a better mix, we need a better mix,
    And we're gonna make it, and we're gonna make it.
    Time for good mix, time for good mix, 
    Time for good mix, it is now.

  • Corpses and Coupons

    On all our screens, on all our screens,
    For fiction and real, for fiction and real,
    Often side by side, often side by side,
    We get death and deals, we get death and deals:

    Boom, boom, true crime, boom, boom, true crime,
    Bling, bling, kitchware, bling, bling, kitchenware.
    Boom, boom, aliens land, boom, boom, aliens land,
    Bling, bling, must have game, bling, bling, must have game.
    Boom, boom, goes the witch, boom, boom, goes the witch,
    Bling, bling, get a ticket, bling, bling, get a ticket.

    Boom, boom, war zone, boom, boom, war zone,
    Bling, bling, cruise liner, bling, bling, cruise liner.
    Boom, boom, fields of rubble, boom, boom, fields of rubble,
    Bling, bling, body lotion, bling, bling, body lotion.
    Boom, boom, houses burn, boom, boom, houses burn,
    Bling, bling, fancy ride, bling, bling, fancy ride.
    Boom, boom, body bags, boom, boom, body bags,
    Bling, bling, bigger burger, bling, bling, bigger burger.
    Boom, boom, parents weep, boom, boom, parent weep,
    Bling, bling, cheap streaming, bling, bling, cheap streaming.
    Boom, boom, children starve, boom, boom, children starve,
    Bling, bling, novel snack, bling, bling, novel snack.

    Boom, boom, bling, bling, boom, boom, bling, bling.
    Kill one, maim nine, kill one, maim nine,
    Pay two, get three, pay two, get three.
    Are you in boom, boom, are you in boom, boom?
    Is it your bling, bling, is it your bling, bling?

    Boom, boom, bling, bling, boom, boom, bling, bling,
    Corpses and coupons, corpses and coupons,
    Corpses and coupons, this is sick!

  • Nette Leute

    Bei uns im Quartier, bei uns im Quartier,
    Anderswo und hier, anderswo und hier,
    So viel nette Leute, so viel nette Leute:

    Kein brüllen, kein hauen, kein brüllen, kein hauen,
    Kein treten, kein stechen, kein treten, kein stechen,
    Keine Knarren, keine Morde, keine Knarren, keine Morde.
    Wir sind harmlos, wir sind harmlos.

    Wir schaffen, schuften, wir schaffen, schuften,
    Kümmern, kochen, putzen, kümmern, kochen putzen,
    So viel zu tun, so viel zu tun,
    So nen Haufen zu kaufen, so nen Haufen zu kaufen,
    Geld wird schnell knapp, Geld wird schnell knapp,
    Schon zu Friedenszeiten, schon zu Friedenszeiten.

    Und jetzt noch Krieg, und jetzt noch Krieg:
    So viel Tote, so viel Tote,
    So viel Trümmer, so viel Trümmer,
    Riesensummen, Riesensummen,
    Für Zerstörung, für Zerstörung.
    Krieg ist Wahnsinn, Krieg ist Wahnsinn.

    Wir machen nicht mit, wir machen nicht mit,
    Keinen Schuss, keinen Schritt, keinen Schuss, keinen Schritt.
    Nette Leute, nette Leute,
    Nette Leute schießen nicht.

  • We kind people

    In my neighbourhood, in my neighbourhood,
    In many neighbourhoods, in many neighbourhoods,
    We are many many, we are many many,
    Who are harmless, who are harmless:

    No shout, no hit, no shout no hit,
    No stab, no kick, no stab, no kick,
    No shoot, no kill, no shoot, no kill.

    We are harmless, we are harmless:
    We build, repair, we build, repair,
    Cook, clean and care, cook, clean and care,
    To have it nice, to have it nice.
    So much to do, so much to do.
    Such a lot we need, such a lot we need.
    Cash often tight, cash often tight,
    Even at the best of times, even at the best of times.

    But now there's war, but now there's war:
    So much killing, so much killing,
    So much wrecking, so much wrecking,
    Such big spending, such big spending,
    On destruction, on destruction.
    Wars are madness, wars are madness.

    They can't be won, they can't be won.
    All sides do loose, all sides do loose,
    Just more or less, just more or less.
    If you dream of victory, if you dream of victory,
    Go to a cemetery, go to a cemetery,
    Ask the mourners, ask the mourners, 
    If they feel win, if they feel win.

    Wars are madness, wars are madness.
    We are harmless, we are harmless.
    Won't go, won't shoot.
    Stuff the propaganda, stuff the propaganda:
    We kind people, we kind people,
    We kind people don't do war.

  • One More Fence

    Bob goes: “Ok, Alice, here comes the translation. The message does say:

    Notice to inhabitants of planet number 3 orbiting star 42p42. Stay where you are. Refrain from sending insecure vessels towards planet number 4, or any other galactic destination. Stay on your planet.

    Repeat: STAY ON YOUR PLANET. DO NOT BOARD. DO NOT LAUNCH. STAY PUT, UNDER ALL CIRCUMSTANCES.

    Your primitive spacecrafts are not voidworthy and your type of species is not welcome out here. We’ve enough trouble managing as it is. The last thing we need, for the next couple of millennia, are newcomers. You’ve got a fine viable planet, make the best of it.

    A dark energy barrier has been erected, to inhibit further incursions into territory regulated by galactic interspecies convention. Any vessels trying to breach the barrier will be turned into dark matter. In case you haven’t deciphered dark matter yet, as your primitive mode of propulsion suggests: Getting turned into it equals the most final way of becoming non-existent.“

    Alive is impressed: “Wow. Are you sure, Bob? This sounds like the mother of all pushbacks. Do you really think there could be someone out there who is able and willing to erect a dark energy barrier, just to keep us on our planet? Any chance this translation might be a little,… don’t know, too extreme? Any chance they just want to warn us, that space travel is dangerous?”

    Bob reacts with irritation: “Alice, my translation might have its weaknesses, perfectly ready to admit as much. It’s first contact after all. But the authors of this notice are very keen on getting their message across. They made very sure to make it very easy to decipher. And the basic principle isn’t that alien. Fences to stop wannabe immigrants, that’s what one does, to keep a nice neighbourhood safe, right?”

    Alive is yet to be convinced: “Bob, honestly, do you really think the authors of this message, them out there, that they consider the likes of Jeff Bezos, Richard Branson or Elon Musk some kind of boat people, who can be pushed around? And there are so few space tourists, why would they even bother? Whichever more advanced civilisation would certainly have the means to sustain a couple more folks, right?”

    Bob goes world-wise: “Well, Alice, and since when does having the means imply wanting to share them? To me, this notice sounds like same old. Up there might be just like down here. Not nice, but hey, not nice has always been part of the game, right? And talking of not nice: What do we do next? How do we tell the boss? He’s sure to hate this notice, and I sure don’t want to be the messenger getting fired for delivering it. How about you?”

    Alice goes panic mode: “Are you mad, Bob? You can’t tell the boss! He’d freak out. And if he took the notice seriously, it’s not just you getting the sack. All our jobs would burn faster than stage 1 rocket fuel. No way. We need to think of something.”

    It takes Alice ten seconds to come up with a solution: “Let’s call it the first space spam, Bob. And where does spam go? That’s it, good boy Bob!”