Tag Archives: GMO

McMurdo Countdown: Objects in Mirror…

2 Aug

Before you dismiss this 100 word story for Madison Woods’ FridayFictioneers as the usual science fiction spores attack crap, take a good ┬álong look at the picture that inspires this week’s entry and then listen well. This is how my father died. He breathed in a spore in a desert in Arizona which lodged in his lung and produced a fungus called Aspergillus. It entered his brain via his circulatory system and grew, disrupting balance and coordination which prompted immediate brain surgery to remove what the doctors thought was a tumor. What they found instead was a plant and when they saw the extent to which its tendrils had merged with healthy brain tissue they closed him up and began years of what we jokingly came to call Roundup therapy. Four years, one kidney and many hospital stays for drug induced dementia later, Alan won the battle but lost the war. Weakened by the long campaign to rid his brain and body of the fungi, he succumbed to heart failure and passed. I have absolutely no doubt that he is in a better place than where he spent his last few years.

We humans tend to think we are the masters of our world, lords of creation and shapers of our collective destinies.

We are not.

We are fragile and we are, in the inevitable end, food for the real masters.

Keep your eyes open. The future is happening all around you.

Sweet dreams, D.

8 August 0800

This is all we know.

Mutated Aspergillus fungi. Rapid cytoplastic streaming. Inhaled spores grow into Labyrinthulmycota colonies. Blood/brain barrier breach. Explosive growth. Blindness, cranial overpressure, sudden death. Launched at high velocity from bursting skulls, spores spread faster than victims can be isolated.

Seven billion souls. Six continents. Five days.

How long would the extreme cold and the stormy ocean surrounding Antarctica keep it at bay?

For a while.

Three hours ago the headaches started. Sight fades as realization dawns. We are the disease. Slime is the cure.

Too late for us.

One.

Last words?

History tailgates.

Zero.