RoboBabe (a cautionary tale)

Once upon a time

the commoners were outraged.

Up in the palace

the royal family dined on oxen and gravy,

while in the streets below

children fought for crusts.

“We demand change!” the commoners shouted righteously, vigorously –

as they marched up and down outside the palace gates.

The king himself appeared on the palace balcony.

“I shall design a new national flag!” he announced, triumphantly.

“Hoorah! Hoorah!” the people cheered.

As they had cheered before,

once upon a time,

even longer ago -

and as they would cheer,

many a time to come.

II

Once upon a time to come

in a city of metal and glass,

where the streets were lined with identical, sparkling trees -

people had enough to eat.

In fact, people had more than enough.

They would stuff themselves on the lastest modified delicacies -

spaghetti that could dance,

anti-aging larvae,

and the extremely popular, aphrodisiac chicken.

However -

despite such an entertaining and streamlined life,

and even though the vomit from the previous night´s feasting

would always be washed away

by the cyber-cleaners by dawn -

all was not well in the city of sparkles and lust.

People were struggling to love their plastic pets,

there was opposition to new laws legalising marriage to robots -

and rebels were gathering outside the disinfected city -

scandalously planting unmodified seeds with naked hands

directly into the mucky, muddy, wild earth.

Then one day, in direct defiance of the City Health Decree

to never open one´s mouth and exhale in public,

the rebels strode out boldly in front of the city government offices...

“We are dying of lack of moonlight!” they wailed,

“We are dying of lack of birds and trees and silence!

We are dying of distance from each other!”

The First Minister´s response was vicious and quick.

He broadcast a message

on all the city screens:

“I proclaim this coming month

A Month of Festivities” he declared exuberantly, gloriously -

“with fireworks every night -

for Robobabe is to be my bride!”

“Hoorah! Hoorah!” cheered the robots.

“Hoorah, Hoorah!” cheered the people.

As they had cheered before,

once upon a time,

a long time ago,

and even longer ago -

and as they would cheer again,

many, many times to come.

*

Mark Josephs,

"Mark the Mystic Activist",

Aragon, Spain,

Spring 2025

Mark guides The Conscious Tribes Project.

His articles, stories and poems attempt to capture

something of the mood of "intimacy with existence"

at the heart of a Conscious Tribe.

www.tribusconscientes.com

CONSCIOUS TRIBES

Seeds of New Local Communities