Dogs of Orninica (18 page)

Instead, the parents ‘homeschool’ their litter, forcing on them a stream of useless radical disinformation that won’t at all help them in the real world, and could, in fact endanger their lives. Truly unforgivable parenting. Just more evidence that terrorism exists in many forms.

You’re advised to be on the lookout for any pale and strange looking pups that are home during school hours and report the suspicious families immediately so that the pups can be given the proper care they need at a facility equipped to educate them appropriately. The parents will be arrested and incarcerated for their crimes of giving birth illegally, not registering a newborn, corrupting young minds, withholding care from a minor and teaching without a license.

Yet another set of subway passengers were rushed to the ER yesterday with nausea, diarrhea and vomiting. The hospital has confirmed that the latest bout of illness was again caused by the virulent flu virus that's been going around the city. It's especially prevalent in enclosed spaces such as subway stations. There were six fatalities. Don't forget to get your flu shots, everyone.

The slaughterhouse employee that recorded footage inside her workplace and posted it on an animal cruelty blog has been sentenced to thirty-nine years in prison for her crime of defaming the facility and its owner under the recently passed Eco-Terrorism Act. The malicious infiltrator has also been added to the international terrorist registry for life, and will not be permitted to travel across international borders, operate a vehicle, or own property upon her eventual release. The owner of the extremist blog, 'What's in your Kibble?' was slotted to stand trial for his part in the crime on Tuesday, but since the Braniso event, it's not clear if any judges are left alive.

In order to help with the speedy recovery of the economy, several states have decided to allow bigger employers to keep the income tax they collect from their workers paychecks. The move was applauded by the various chambers of commerce in each state. Every little bit helps when times are tough.

A nation-wide strike being organized by fast food workers was narrowly averted yesterday, when the heads of the nation’s fast food chains met and decided to collectively replace all their workers with automated robots. The workers had complained of wages well below the poverty level, and a lack of health insurance or other benefits. The restaurants are expected to temporarily close for retrofitting and then reopen sometime next month.

A Moodley’s Noodles spokesperson said, “We expect the new robots won’t be making any unrealistic demands like their predecessors did, and will simply be glad to be of service to this great company and get straight to work, making the most delicious noodles, waffles and pancakes in the world for our demanding customers. They’ll also be a lot more hygienic than the organic workers.”

Maybe now the fast food workers of Orninica will finally get off their parents couches and find real jobs. Would you believe that the average age of fast food workers in this country was approaching 42 last year? Grown dogs expecting to support their families working a deep fryer? Just lazy. I for one, can’t wait to sample a big steaming bowl of Moodley’s Noodles drenched in caramel sauce, prepared in record time by a nice, clean robot. No fur-net necessary.

The company is even adding six new noodle recipes to the menu to celebrate this exciting new ‘rapid-food’ era we’re about to enter. I’m going to make a point of trying every one of them over the next week, starting with delicious-sounding ‘mustard, cheese and triple-onion’. The profits of the companies are expected to soar to new levels since the announcement. I’ll have to get my stockbroker on the line.

The terror-threat level is currently set to Deep Crimson X3++. Serious threat of terrorist attack imminent. Take care, Orninicans.

Spy II

Beloved elders of the tribal councils of Nureongi, it is done. Thousands of prominent Orninicans in high positions of industry, politics, military, media and finance are dead. After the Orns craven attack on their own nation's pups and their decision to use this crimson lie to justify a full scale invasion of our lands, I had no choice left but to take immediate action. Unfortunately, there was no time to await your response. I examined all the options and soon realized there was only one way to kill all these powerful dogs with a single blow.

One thing all of these immensely wealthy and well-connected puppeteers have in common is the extravagant vehicles they ride in. And the vast majority of them are gridlocked in traffic in the heart of the cities at the same commuting time every morning. These 'Braniso' branded motor vehicles have a widely known weakness. A chemical used in their air-conditioning units; a device that blasts cool air onto the driver's face as he drives, is known to explode when exposed to high temperatures.

I wrote a simple algorithm that would amass heat from the engine and redirect it from the exhaust pipes, towards the cooling units, triggering a massive explosion powerful enough to incinerate the entire vehicle.

All these vehicles are connected wirelessly to the Braniso corporation's computers, so that they can remotely issue software updates to the electronic components and built in entertainment devices that the cars feature. I sent a simple electronic message to all of Braniso's employees with an attached file that, once opened, would infect the computer of the employee, and then the entire Braniso network, including every car they've built. Immediately, tens of thousands of luxury vehicles around the world were up in flames at the same moment.

Unfortunately, it appears that my plot has led to my cover being compromised. I tried to return to my restaurant, and had to watch from across the street as it was swarming with security agents tearing it apart. I am now on the run from the authorities and expect capture imminently.

I've changed my appearance significantly, so I should be able to avoid detection by the drones for a little while, but they've tripled searches and DNA swabs at checkpoints, and they've started swabbing anyone that meets my description away from the checkpoints. Luckily it's been a bitterly cold summer, so I can get away with wearing gloves to hide my prints, but there's not much I can do about retinal scanners. I'm just having to stay off the streets. If a drone or doorway scanner sees my eyes, it'll be over.

I honestly can't tell you what the effect of my plot will be. With so many of their leaders and elites dead, there's no telling how this will affect the war they're waging against our tribes. I hope that, whatever government rises to replace the collapsed plutocracy is composed of a just and compassionate leadership, and not just more of the same tyranny. But most of all, I hope that the next government leaves us alone.

It doesn't seem like it would be that difficult; to allow a faraway culture across the ocean to exist in their own way, at their own pace. Even after five long years spent in this place, I still am no closer to understanding their compulsion to force their will on the rest of the world.

I suppose the country is much like any one of its famed corporate enterprises; forever growing, merging, amassing profit and power, projecting its carefully constructed image to every land and every dog far and wide, until every little place in the world is lined with rows and rows of identical replicas of generic Orninican business establishments, the same bright colors and simple shapes, two-note jingles playing on a loop and over-sized logos spewing from the landscape, replacing proud, age old cultures with uniform conglomeration.

Maybe that's what their end game has always been; to forcibly mold every inch of the earth until it resembles every street in every Orninican city. So convinced that their way of life is absolute and without equal, and that no reasonable creature could possibly reject it in favor of their own long-held customs, culture and intricate social hierarchies.

One day, maybe even a day during our lifetimes, the Orninican empire will fall, as all greedy self-destructive things invariably do, and the sage dogs of the future will pick through the ruins of Orninica, wondering what ever possessed the inhabitants of these vast sprawling cities to enslave themselves so unquestionably, to put state and enterprise before life. I hope they'll come up with a better answer than I've ever been able to.

The monopoly on violence the state has enjoyed since its establishment only exists because the citizens allow it to exist. The citizens arm the coercive state, while the state disarms, disaffects and subjugates the citizens, stripping them of their privacy, their property, their independent thought, their health. Under the threat of force, the citizens then pay the state an increasingly higher stipend to continue to arm itself against them, so that it can take even more from them, until eventually there is nothing left to take, and the overgrown government has nothing left to do but collapse in on itself.

And then a new government rises, and the citizens cheer in celebration, and hand over their property and their liberty and begin the cycle anew. Every new government backed by the same monopoly on violence to exact order within its exclusive economic zone.

It's not so bad really, being a murderer. I always thought it would change me irreversibly, that I'd wake up a distorted monster with no moral center. But I feel about the same as I did yesterday. Maybe it just hasn't hit me yet. The adrenalin from being on the run could be keeping me from feeling the effects of my grave deed.

Hopefully I'll be dead and buried before it finally catches up with me and I feel the full effect of having taken all those lives. They pushed me to do what I did. I feel like I've been lowered to their deplorable level just to survive. Playing by their rules, spreading fear and malcontent, taking the life from others to safeguard my own way of life. Perhaps I'm no better than them when it comes down to it. But it's better that one lone Nureongi be corrupted, than all of us.

Since the logger-bots began arriving in Nureongi, I’m sure you’ve all been feeling the effects of the oxygen deprivation that city dwellers have become so accustomed to over the years, living with such limited access to trees. A constant waking daze, unprovoked outbursts of rage, insomnia and depression; these are all normal side-effects of an existence apart from the forests. I hope that you were able to plant bamboo around all the settlements in time, as I advised. It is likely the most fast-growing and high-oxygenating plant that exists, and the logger-bots don’t appear to be programmed to disturb it at all. At least for the time being.

When the war is over and the logger-bots have all been destroyed, you will be able to begin to reseed the great forests that were decimated, but in the meantime, the only course of action is to establish vast bamboo forests to keep the ground and the air alive.

I feel at peace for having given my life to safeguard our freedom. I have no regrets, and no fear of my inevitable torture and execution. I dedicated my life to this mission to affect change, and in this I have succeeded beyond my wildest aspirations. I hope that the recoil of my actions reaches far and wide, freeing from subjugation the future generations of Orninicans and Nureongi alike.

I chose to give myself for the greater good, to safeguard the future generations of Nureongi that will now hopefully be able to continue running through the forests, laughing and loving, never having to know bondage or hunger, because of my actions here today.

Though I will now not be able to have pups of my own, I hope that a little of myself lives on inside the spirit of every free Nureongi. This life was a good life. I was fortunate enough to be born within the abundant woodlands of Nureongi, and yet I was able to travel the world. I was able to love and be loved. I die young, but I die full. I had purpose, and I had freedom, and I had adventure. I'm ready to release everything I am back into the cosmos, with no sorrow in my heart.

Please tell my beloved Outa, I am truly sorry. It was the only course of action I had left to take. All my thoughts in my remaining hours will be of her.

Goodbye brothers and sisters.

Senior Citizen II

They're trying to deny it was a terrorist attack for some reason, but I know the truth. They wouldn't be plastering some restaurant owner's picture all over the place if he weren't responsible for this. That dirty terrorist has some nerve, coming to our country and pulling this savage attack on us for no bah-damn reason. What's the matter, terrorist? Your big, fat, ass-faced mother not pay enough attention to you growing up? Were you the runt of a litter of babbling half-wits?

You useless piece of shit, how dare you? If I'm walking down the street and I spot you before the drones do, I'll personally rip your disgusting tick-covered head off and use it as a kick ball. You pile of vomit. You rabid mad dog! Everyone's seen your face on the news now, there's nowhere you can hide. I hope you die slowly and excruciatingly like the godless maggots I tortured to death in the war. I'm going to write to the cops and suggest that when they catch you, they should put your head on a pike and stick it outside the presidential palace so everyone that walks by can spit on it.

You think you can come to this great country and take a big shit all over our freedoms? What gives you the right? You vile sub-canine shit-stain. Just because whatever dirty sand-farm you come from doesn't have the freedom and democracy Orninica has, you have to take away our most beloved sons and daughters? Attack our prosperity?

You killed Mr. Harvey Fidelbrook! He was the last great actor. The last true gentle-dog. The heart and soul of our great nation. A true Orninican patriot and ambassador. If you had faced him like a dog, instead of a coward; blowing him up from a distance, he would have casually popped you square in the jaw one time and you'd pass out cold, drooling all over the floor. You little pussy! You're no match for a real dog like Harvey. What a waste. How dare you continue to breathe air whilst all these great Orninicans are lost to us forever?