I am used to living with "consensus reality" as my default world model - the world is made out of atoms, I'm an evolved monkey, science explains most things pretty well, when you die you're dead, and so on.
Currently, this model and my best judgement about the world predict a bleak future, where my life is too short to satisfy my values, and I'm too limited to change the world in ways that matter to me. I am struggling to break out of my limits.
I've met an interesting person who talks about us having way more freedom than most people imagine, having the power to do anything, saying that we are like gods traveling through this world. It all sounds crazy, and normally I would've dismissed it, but I can tell that she means it, and I'm getting a strong impression that she understands some things that I really want to learn.
I want to understand this worldview, because the freedom and power to do anything is what it would take to fix everything and save everyone. Or, at least, to live a maximally interesting and fun life in the time I have left.
I don't yet know whether this worldview is true, or how much of it is meant literally. But I want to understand it, so I can hold it in my head side-by-side with mine, and use whichever one works better. She recommends this book as a good place to start.
So I'll just take it all at face value, learn with an open mind, and see where that goes. What the hell do I know, maybe it'll unlock some new moves available to me that I'm not seeing.
Jonathan Livingston Seagull is a metaphor for reaching enlightenment. Or, at least, it has a lot of overlap with what I'm learning about the Buddhist worldview and enlightenment-related ideas.
Jonathan Seagull pursues the path to mastery at flying. That pursuit makes him different enough from his society that he is made an outcast. The joy of reaching excellence at doing his thing is more than enough to be well-worth it. Makes sense.
When he dies, he transcends into a different world where he is surrounded by other seagulls like him, most of whom have reached this level after reincarnating for thousands of lifetimes. He finds out that learning is how you "progress" through the worlds, and avoid reliving the same life over and over again. I am taking that as a literal statement about how our universe is actually organized - us traveling across different worlds in cycles of reincarnation.
This is very different from the beliefs that I currently have. To actually believe that, I need a better reason than another person's claim, but I'm here to keep an open mind.
I don't want to rely on the comforting idea that I have infinite lives and an unlimited amount of time to figure things out. Because if this short life is all I've got, then I have to make this one count, I can't hope that I'll get it right the next time. But I'm here to learn, so I take this at face value and hold it in my head side-by-side with the model of the world I'm used to.
The universe MAY be much weirder than I think.
Or maybe all this reincarnation stuff is totally metaphorical and I missed the point. If it IS metaphorical, then it's something about us going through the same recurring patterns in our lives, remaking the same mistakes. And when you learn, and do things differently, you get to level up to a better life and more interesting problems, and hang out with the cool people who get it.
Jonathan learns from the enlightened seagulls, and then chooses to bring this knowledge back to the world he came from. Makes sense, that's what I would do - how could I enjoy heaven when everyone I knew and loved are still in deep shit back on Earth?
His old society ostracizes him and his apprentices, then, after seeing the results of his teachings, becomes curious, and eventually worships them. That checks out.
His teachings then get wrapped into layers of impenetrable religious dogma and ritual, transformed past recognition and usefulness, made to appear holy and unattainable. That's pretty straightforward, that's what religion does, no argument there.
Young seagulls, bright-eyed and curious, correctly reject the dogma, and, with that, dismiss the idea of the teachings themselves having any value. They resort to the scientific understanding of the world, as a no-bullshit path to seeking the truth. The argument here is that there ARE valuable things to learn from the teachings, and that I shouldn't dismiss them just because religions obscured them behind the layers of nonsense. I'm on board with that.
But their scientific worldview robs them of the sense of meaning and purpose, making life seem bleak and mechanical. That part I disagree with - there's plenty of meaning to find in the materialist worldview:
There is no justice in the laws of nature, no term for fairness in the equations of motion. The universe is neither evil, nor good, it simply does not care. The stars don’t care, or the Sun, or the sky. But they don’t have to! WE care! There IS light in the world, and it is us!
At the end, Jonathan appears to a young seagull to show that there still is, and always be, an unadulterated path he can follow. Well here I am, looking for one.
I'm still not fully sure what flying is a metaphor for.
For each of them, the most important thing in living was to reach out and touch perfection in that which they most loved to do, and that was to fly.
Is it pursuing the path to mastery at any skill you care about? Learning in general, seeking the truth, trying to understand the world? Learning to live this life well? Doing that one thing that gives your life meaning? Neither of those fit perfectly, but those are my best guesses.
How much more there is now to living! Instead of our drab slogging forth and back to the fishing boats, there’s a reason to life! We can lift ourselves out of ignorance, we can find ourselves as creatures of excellence and intelligence and skill. We can be free! We can learn to fly!
To me that means pursuing your purpose. You choose your own reason to live, the thing you want to do in this life, and follow the path to mastery at it. You set goals to achieve, and develop the skills it takes to get there. So, life is about learning and pursuit of excellence.
(This doesn't map perfectly, because, in the book, mastering flight is the universal reason to live for all birds. But we, as humans, all choose different purposes.)
Trying to get good at any skill/goal/pursuit puts you in contact with reality. You practice, try different things, make mistakes, get feedback from the world, update your model, try again, eventually you figure it out. That's the learning-loop (or scientific method), and that is what Jonathan did when learning to fly. I really like that, this is one of the main things I want my life to be about.
"But you, Jon," he said, "learned so much at one time that you didn’t have to go through a thousand lives to reach this one."
Jonathan transcends into a better world by getting really good at what he does, not through meditation or practicing any sort of spirituality or enlightenment-related skills. He did not level up by focusing on the journey and being super present (he learned that part later, when he was already in heaven), he leveled up at the end of living his normal materialistic life very well, thinking for himself, and learning a lot. That is surprising, different from what I would expect from enlightenment teachings. Different in a way that I really like - life can't be about spending years meditating in a cave, life is about living.
"Fletcher Lynd Seagull, do you want to fly?"
"YES, I WANT TO FLY!"
He is already flying. He's a bird. What he means is that he wants to fly WELL.
I am already living. I'm a human. What I want is to live WELL.
Does that mean choosing and achieving my purpose?
What I want from a book like this one is practical instructions. To enlightenment, to winning at life, to breaking out of my limits, the "freedom to do anything" I want so fucking much.
If you were meant to fly in the dark, you’d have the eyes of an owl! You’d have charts for brains! You’d have a falcon’s short wings! [...] Short wings. A falcon’s short wings! That’s the answer!
He can't fly like a falcon, he's not a falcon. He is frustrated about his limitations. He breaks out of his limits by going through the trial-and-error learning loop. He tries hard to get better, thinks, experiments, fails, learns, and changes his approach to be more similar to what faster birds do.
"You’re wasting your time with me, Jonathan! I’m too dumb! I’m too stupid! I try and try, but I’ll never get it!" Jonathan Seagull looked down at him and nodded. "You’ll never get it for sure as long as you make that pullup so hard."
Fletcher, Jonathan's pupil, has limiting beliefs about what he can and can't do. Jonathan calmly instructs him to focus on the process, and practice. Get good by doing. If it's not working, you're doing it wrong - try something else, do it differently.
But what do you do when that's not enough?
What do you do with the limitations you can't bypass by "folding your wings, so they're short, like falcon's" (learning, trying, doing things differently)?
You will begin to touch heaven, Jonathan, in the moment that you touch perfect speed. And that isn’t flying a thousand miles an hour, or a million, or flying at the speed of light. Because any number is a limit, and perfection doesn’t have limits. Perfect speed, my son, is being there.
The book' answer is that there will always be a smarter/better/faster/stronger way to be. I keep trying to make myself better, but there's always something better than this. And living well is not about that. It's about being there, for all of it. Ups and downs, joys and sufferings, failing and recovering. Enjoying doing the thing at the level you're at.
But that is a lot easier to accept when you believe that you have infinite lifetimes to learn from. When you aren't certain, you have to assume that this one short life is all you will ever get, and you must find a path to victory while you're alive. Under that assumption, it's a lot more frustrating to have a lot of desires that I can't reach during this life at my current speed limit.
"Look at Fletcher! Lowell! Charles-Roland! Judy Lee! Are they also special and gifted and divine? No more than you are, no more than I am. The only difference, the very only one, is that they have begun to understand what they really are and have begun to practice it."
Can I do things that far more talented/intelligent people do, despite my constraints?
"What one man can do, another man can do" is a useful mindset to adopt. By default, it's better to assume that I can do something, than assuming that I can not. But I also care about being rational and realistic, seeing the world for what it is, not what I wish it was.
Practice helps, yes, but the people I look up to, people who are the best in the world at the skills that I want, also have far more natural ability at those that I do. Believing that you can be as good as Michael Jordan isn't gonna make you any taller. I can see with my eyes the difference between what I can do, and what Brennan Lee Mulligan can do, and I don't see how to close this gap in the time I have left.
And achieving some of the things I want, within the time that I have, would require literally superhuman abilities. Currently, nobody in the world is smart enough to solve AI-alignment. To do that before it's too late would require me to start mostly from scratch, and, within 1-3 years, solve a problem that thousands of much smarter people (with decades of experience and unlimited funding) have failed to solve for decades.
(Which is also, frankly, a problem that I have no aptitude for, or desire to work on - I just need it solved so that me and my loved ones don't die.)
What if it would take literal magic for me to become as fast as I need to get?
The book does describe overcoming your limits with what I would call "literal magic".
"I want to fly more than anything else in the world [...] You don’t understand. My wing. I can’t move my wing."
"Maynard Gull, you have the freedom to be yourself, your true self, here and now, and nothing can stand in your way. It is the Law of the Great Gull, the Law that Is."
"Are you saying I can fly?"
"I say you are free."
As simply and as quickly as that, Kirk Maynard Gull spread his wings, effortlessly, and lifted into the dark night air. The Flock was roused from sleep by his cry, as loud as he could scream it, from five hundred feet up; "I can fly! Listen! I CAN FLY!"
But these are not actionable instructions that I understand how to follow. I want to understand what he means here, and how to practically get it done.
"To fly as fast as thought, to anywhere that is," he said, "you must begin by knowing that you have already arrived." The trick, according to Chiang, was for Jonathan to stop seeing himself as trapped inside a limited body that had a forty-two-inch wingspan and performance that could be plotted on a chart. The trick was to know that his true nature lived, as perfect as an unwritten number, everywhere at once across space and time.
My best guess at interpreting this is that there's one infinite god-thing, everywhere, living all the lifetimes at once. Like an infinite timeless multiverse where everything that can be already is. Every lifetime already lived, every choice already made, every goal already achieved (if not by me then by somebody else, who is also "me" because we're all this one god-thing). And recognizing that this is my "true nature" is supposed to make me at peace with going at the speed that I go.
If that is what he is saying (and not my wild misinterpretation), the problem is that even if it's true, it doesn't matter because I don't relate to the infinite-god thing, I don't see it as "me".
I am interested in doing things as my actual self, in my current life. I won't be satisfied with knowing that my goals have been achieved by some different version of myself in a different lifetime, in some other multiverse branch.
Your whole body, from wingtip to wingtip, is nothing more than your thought itself, in a form you can see.
That sounds like non-dual awareness. I think I understand that part conceptually, at least.
Break the chains of your thought, and you break the chains of your body, too….
How? All I'm looking for are step-by-step instructions to achieving immortality and superintelligence, is that too much to ask? 😅
To sum it up, you can overcome a lot of your limitations in perfectly ordinary, consensus-reality-compatible ways: believe that you can, try/think/experiment, do what works, learn from people who do it better, do what they do. This makes sense, this is practical and useful.
You also want to enjoy doing your thing at the level you're at, and stay as present to it as possible, because why wouldn't you? It is a better way to be, and it beats doing your thing while being annoyed at your limitations and needily craving to go faster.
But I still believe that achieving a lot of my goals in this life would require supernatural powers, because the constraints I'm bumping up against are not mental/conceptual, but physical - how much time/energy I have in a day, how many days I have left in this life, how fast/clever my brain is, the skills and resources I have by which to impact the world.
And I still don't see the path to saving the world. I don't see the specific actions I can take, the choices I can make differently, which would add up to me making enough difference within the time we have left.
I can only see how to live my life to the best of my ability, enjoy it as much as I can while I'm at it, and try to make the most of the time I do have. Which is what I'm already doing.
If there's a way to go past that and do things I think are impossible, I am searching for it.
Most of us came along ever so slowly. We went from one world into another that was almost exactly like it, forgetting right away where we had come from, not caring where we were headed, living for the moment. Do you have any idea how many lives we must have gone through before we even got the first idea that there is more to life than eating, or fighting, or power in the Flock? A thousand lives, Jon, ten thousand! And then another hundred lives until we began to learn that there is such a thing as perfection, and another hundred again to get the idea that our purpose for living is to find that perfection and show it forth. The same rule holds for us now, of course: we choose our next world through what we learn in this one. Learn nothing, and the next world is the same as this one, all the same limitations and lead weights to overcome.
Of course it took them ten thousand lives - this is a terrible way to teach anything to anybody! Every reincarnation you wipe their minds of everything they have learned, and make them try again WITHOUT the memories of the lessons they have gained. You create minds that think, love, care, and don't want to die, and then destroy the most important parts of them.
Without my memories, identity, personality - what's left to reincarnate? In what sense am "I" continuing to live in the next life, when everything that matters about me (according to me) is gone?
The existence of death and suffering is my main objection to the idea that me and the infinite-god-thing are one. I would not have allowed so much pointless/ugly/extreme suffering to exist in the world. There absolutely IS a way to design the universe such that it preserves all the joy and discovery of living and learning, and doesn't include all the terrible parts. If that is obvious to me, it must be obvious to the infinite-god-thing version of me. If mine and god's values are different on such a fundamental level, then how can we be the same?
Our world, while beautiful and wonderful, doesn't look like it was optimized for anything, or made by someone who's sentient and filled with love and kindness. This is not the world I would have created.
I decline to accept suffering and death as a necessary part of life that I should learn to make peace with. As far as I'm concerned, suffering and death are the enemy. They are out of place in this world, not us. If I am truly able to do anything, the first steps are to fix god's mistakes, eradicate suffering, defeat death. Make the universe an awesome place to live, for everyone. If there are those who voluntarily choose to experience suffering/death (out of curiosity, or because of some weird kink or whatever) - fine, but that must be voluntarily chosen by those who want to experience it.
If I get my hands on any of those god powers I keep hearing so much about, I'm pretty sure I can game-design a much better world, optimized for joy and learning, without looping people through a thousand confused lifetimes of suffering. It's not that fucking hard.
Dilapidated wooden house stands on the outskirts of a grim village. A thin, pale man sits on the porch, scratching his scraggly beard, lost in thoughts. He wears a black cloak that has seen better days, now stained and covered in patches. He takes a gulp from a dark, dirty bottle.
An equally pale woman comes out of the house. Once strikingly beautiful, she now looks sickly, with heavy bags under her eyes. She's holding a baby, and a little boy with red eyes holds onto her skirt. "Ah, why am I not surprised," she complains, "the great Crimson Count, back to sitting on his ass, getting drunk. You won't find us a new castle at the bottom of the bottle, Reginald!"
"Leave me alone, Valeria," Reginald takes another gulp, "you don't think I'm trying?"
"That's not what trying looks like! Have you seen your brother? He was evicted along with us, and now he lives in a new castle, his family are back striking fear into the hearts of mortals!"
"Bah! You call that a castle? It's just some dusty old mansion!"
"The old mansion with hot water. With servants. With peasants his children can feed on."
"My brother got lucky, he just found a dying aristocrat he could turn, now the aristocrat serves him as vampire spawn. All he had to do was to bite some old rich dude. Where am I supposed to get one?"
"Figure it out! When I married you, when I gave you my innocence, I was promised a certain standard of living. When a maiden promises to love and obey an immortal vampire, she doen't expect she'll have to do that while living in a hovel. So find us a rich duke somewhere, or get a job."
Reginald gasps. "A job? Like a mere mortal? How can you even suggest such a thing! I will not debase myself by working, I am not a peasant. Money is not the most qqq thing in the life, you know. Maybe I'm above the material posessions now, maybe I want a simpler life."
Valeria slaps him. "Get it together, Reginald, I can't keep sucking blood from a cow. Fix this, or I'm leaving you and marrying your brother."
Reginald throws his bottle, it smashes against a wall. His face contorts, his eyes flash red, he bears his fangs. "Don't you dare! Not my brother! That's what my last wife did." The last sentence comes out as a furious roar, he looms over her, breathing heavily in her face, and threateningly hisses at her.
Valeria rises her eyebrow, impressed. "Now that is the terrifying monster I fell in love with! Go rampage through the world of mortals, and don't return until we have a new castle. And some expensive jewelry!"
Reginald roars, and, in a puff of smoke, turns into a bat and flies off.
An ancient manor is lit by moonlight and torches.
Two figures, dressed in all black, enter through the first-floor window.
Jack (a big and tough bandit), whispers to Rick (a smaller, scrawnier one). "Go grab the jewels, I'll go upstairs and steal the paintings."
Rick mumbles nervously. "Are you sure we should do this? What if we see someone? I just hate confrontation."
"What kind of a thief are you?" Jack growls, "what are you even doing here, if you're such a coward?"
Rick shifts uncomfortably. "You were so excited about this project, and it just felt too awkward to refuse, you know how much I hate saying no to people."
Jack gets in his face, furiously "I needed a partner, not a sniveling mop. Now shut up and do the job we came here to do!"
"I guess you make some good points."
Torches illuminate the hallway, clanking of metal armor echoes through the corridor. Large figures of guards run at the bandits.
"There they are! Drop your weapons, hands behind your head!"
"You make some good points." Rick drops his crossbow.
Jack roars at him. "What the hell are you doing, traitor! Do you have no honor? Fight or die, that is our code."
"I guess you make some good points," says Rick, unable to say no.
The scene switches into slow motion. The guards loose the arrows. Rick drops to the floor, pushing Jack out of the line of attack. The guard swings a huge sword at Rick, who, in one smooth motion, rolls out of the way, picks up his crossbow, and fires it through his attacker's head.
Two more guards run at Rick. He backflips, kicking their swords out of their hands, bounces off the wall, knocks them unconscious with two powerful punches. Snatches a falling sword out of the air, and pushes it through the chest of the remaining guard.
Jack looks up at the scene from the floor, stares at the carnage in shocked silence.
"Thank you, brother."
"No biggie, happy to help. You did make some good points," says Rick amicably.
Character prompt: Legendary child
Premise prompt: Character who's terrible at doing their job
Scene idea: When the prophecy child just isn't that bright
And it is with a grave heart that I tell you, son...
Hey! Hey! No, no, drop it! I said drop it! Alright, too late... Spit it out! I said spit it out! There you go. We agreed, no eating the gems of power, that's not how they work. No, you can't just lick one. Now listen.
And it is with a grave heart that I tell you, son, that the destiny of the world rests upon your shoulders.
Come on buddy, pay attention. I know you wanna go throw crackers at the cat again, but I'm trying to tell you something important.
So... it is with a grave heart that I tell you, son, that the destiny of the world rests upon your shoulders. You must take the sword of destiny... what do you mean, you lost it? Seven hundred noble knights sacrificed their lives to steal it from the shadow realm! Alright, alright, don't cry, we'll get you a new one.
You must take the sword of destiny, defeat the archpriest of darkness, and bring the light of hope back into this world.
...aaahand, he's asleep. Okay, our realm is doomed, we're all gonna die. Gods, why couldn't you have chosen my oldest one? He's so much smarter. Who cares if this one's soul is more pure? Bless his heart....
Bleak small town in mideval europe. Plague doctors in beaked masks pile up the bodies. Dejected peasants trudge the streets with hopeless looks on their faces.
A young well-dressed man with a broad smile stands up on a crate. Crowd gathers around him.
"Hey fellas! Gather in, gather in! I'm here to tell you some great news - you don't have to be sad! Don't let a little thing like the plague get you down! What's the big deal?"
"My arm fell off yesterday." replies a one armed peasant.
"It did only if you believe it did! It's all about the mindset. Think about it like this, you now have one less arm to carry around!"
"Walking around with both of these things was getting kinda heavy, since I didn't have anything to eat for several days..."
"That's the spirit! Imagine how many calories you will save. Speaking of heavy, what puts a frown on your beautiful face, honey?"
Wrinkled toothless peasant woman looks up at him. "My 3 kids have died this morning."
"Great! So you're an empty nester! It's an amazing time to rediscover yourself! Go out, live life! You know what they say, 60 is the new 40!"
"I'm 17."
A plague doctor walks up to the speaker. "Sir, you can't gather a crowd here."
"Not with that attitude!"
"Sir, this is how the disease spreads."
"You know what else spreads in the crowds? Fun! Plague can be fun if we make it fun, people! Let's make a game out of it. How many living family members do you have left, sir?"
"Two."
"Well, let's make a bet on how long they will last!"
"Probably not until tomorrow..."
"Well, I bet they will last till the next Wednesday! See? We're having fun already! And hey, we can always make more people! Come on here ladies, who wants to give me a kiss?"
Plague doctor leans over to a sores-riddled young woman "Contageous Suzan, you gotta save us from this guy."
"Okay, I'll take one for the team."
She takes his hand and they walk off into the sunset.
"He-ey, be careful, approach her from the front, the dinosaurs feel threatened if you approach from the side."
"All I care about is the eggs, I heard fried dino eggs are delicious.
"Doctor Dufree has just finished resurrecting them, and you immediately want to hunt them to the extinction?"
"Whatever fills my belly with that delicious dino meat. I have paid a trillion dollars to fund this operation so that I could have the most exclusive quisine in the world, and your little moral hangups won't stop me."
Empty old manor, three kids run away from zombies.
"Run, I will protect you!" screams Steve, a nerdy kid, as he jumps in fromt of Mona, his crush. "Run after us, you idiot!" screams Mona.
The zombie swipes at Steve, but Daniel, the group's jock, tackles Steve out of the way just in time. The gang keeps running.
Another zombie crashes through the door, and begins slowly stumbling towards them. "Hide behind me, Mona, I'll protect you!" screams Steve.
Mona raises her eyebrow "Dude, this zombie is not even close, he'll reach us in like 5 minutes. Just go already."
"Aren't you impressed that I'm heroically sacrificing myself in the name of love?" pouts Steve, but follows along.
They reach the door, and open it into a dusty corridor covered in spider webs.
"Eeew, a spider!" Mona flicks it from her shoulder.
Steve falls on it dramatically, like jumping on a grenade. "Run, my love! Don't think about me, just go! All I ask is that you remember my glorious sacrifice!"
Mona rolls her eyes and keeps walking, After a beat, Steve awkwardly shuffles up to his feet and follows.
[[CR-2024-08-04]]
A vampire castle is a massive shadow outlined by moonlight. Inside, empty dark hallways covered in spider webs. At the end of one hallway, warm light comes from the bathroom, sounds of splashing and singing.
In the bathroom, a chubby old man with a crooked nose sings as he's taking a shower. Starts with quiet humming, but gets more and more into it, until he screams into the shower head like a rock musician at a concert.
He's in the middle of a sick air guitar riff when a dark, pale figure stalks into the room. "What in damnation are you doing, Squidge?"
"Oh, greetings, master! Just taking a shower."
"Your mirth is unwelcome in these dark halls. We dwell in solitude, contemplating the emptiness of our rotten souls, not sing and dance like teen girls."
"With all due respect, master, this is a weekend. I worked hard serving you during the week, now I relax in my time off. Work hard play hard, you know?"
"There's no such thing as time off when you are bound to serve your vampire lord for all of eternity! Cease this at once!"
"With all due respect, my lord, I beg the differ. Haven't you met with our union rep yet? We, minions, now have weekends, dental insurance, even paid vacations!"
Flames of rage burn in the vampire's eyes. "I will destroy you for such insolence!"
"And then what? Fetch your own slippers, polish your own coffin, torture your own prisoners? All by yourself? Times are changing, milord, if you want to have subservient minions, you need to provide good working conditions, otherwise I'll explore my opportunities elsewhere. I did get a very appealing offer from the Romanian Werewolf who terrorizes several local villages. Please close the door on your way out, your horribleness."
The vampire growls with fury, and stalks off.
A dingy alley marketplace in a middle-eastern city. A chubby american tourist approaches a stand filled with tinctures, potions, strange skulls, and other sinister looking magic items.
An old witch with clumps of dirty hair greets him. "Come in, come in, stranger. Choose anything your heart desires."
The tourist looks through the wares. "Hmm, that fanged demon mask looks interesting, it would be fun to wear on haloween".
The witch cackles madly "Yes, yes, take the mask! Azazel yearns to be worn! But be careful, putting it on is much easier than taking it off."
"Yeah, yeah, whatever, I just want something for my wife, she always complains if I don't bring her stuff from a business trip. How much is it?"
"Take it for free, it is yours!" cackles the witch.
"I don't even have to pay? Amazing, I love local customs." the tourist takes the mask and exits the shop.
"Oh, you'll pay," the witch whispers ominously, "you'll pay indeed."
Wind blows clouds of red dust through a small village on an alien planet. The bounty hunter lowers his visor, and jetpacks to the local cantina.
Inside, he approaches a sleazy alien merchant. "Glorb, I can't say it's a pleasure to meet you," he growls. Glorb sneers in response "Ah, Dangerous Dave. I assure you, displeasure is all mine."
"You've got something my boss needs," Dave advances menacingly. "And you will give it to me, or else."
"Hey, hey," Glorb steps back "No need for threats, I'm a businessman. Entrepreneur, much like yourself. We can trade. What do you want?" Glorb opens up his trenchcoat, revealing a wide array of various internal organs, each in a plastic bag with a pricetag on it. "I've got kidneys, baby kidneys, livers, nipple tentacles, amygdalas, those are at a discount if you buy two or more..."
"My boss needs his heart back. It was stolen from him during his rejuvenation retreat."
"Ah, but of course." Glorb reaches into an inner pocket, and pulls out a still-beating human heart, suspended in a murky yellowish liquid. "As good as new. Pretty small though, wouldn't you say? I can offer a younger, healthier one."
Dave grabs the heart "My boss is quite attached to the heart he has."
"That'll be 200 credits."
Dave pulls out a blaster and sticks it into the alien's nose "Come again?"
"But for you, of course, as a valued customer, it is only 50."
Dave twists the blaster, inserting it deeper "Do you have any extra heads under this trenchcoat? Because you might need one."
"On a second thought, take this one as a free sample," the alien smiles cloyingly.
Dave puts the heart into a freezing container, and jetpacks away, right through the roof of the cantina.
A colossal cathedral is illuminated by torches and moonlight. A group of hooded figures kneel in front of a gigantic snake statue. The enormity of the statue dwarfs everything around it, radiating the sense of dread and awe.
A lanky old man with a wispy unkempt beard raises his hands to the statue. "Oh, Serpentor, our lord and master! May your fangs be long and your skin scaly! Today we implore you to grant us your snake powers, so we may use them to defeat your enemies! In your honor, we bring you this gift!"
He snaps his fingers, and two hooded figures bring out a girl, who looks around in fear and struggles against her restraints. The emeralds of the snake's eyes dispassionately regard the scene.
The cult leader raises an ornate dagger over the girl's chest, preparing to strike.
An icy voice, like a thousand freezing whispers, thunders from the snake's mouth. "Hey, what in the s-s-seven hellsss are you doing?"
The cult leader stops his attack, the dagger inches away from the girl's heart. Regaining his composure, he replies, "I am sacrificing this maiden in the name of your glory, oh, the sinister one!"
"That's messsed up, man," the snake replies. "Did anyone asssk you to ssacrifice maidenss to me?"
The cult leader looks confused. "No, but I assumed..."
"Oh, he asssumed! What, just because I'm an eldritch ssnake god, I automatically mussst thirsst for the blood of virginss?"
"My humble apologies, your slitheriness. That's what we thought. Would you perhaps prefer a little boy, or an old lady?"
"Dude, you need to relaxsss," sighs the snake in frustration. "I just like to curl up on a warm boulder, and perhapss eat a mouse once in awhile. But you humanss look at me, and instantly assume the worsst. Honesstly, this iss bad for my ssnake-essteem. What am I, a monsster?"
The girl breaks free from the distracted cultists, and addresses the snake. "These guys are just jerks, don't mind them. I don't think you're a monster."
"See? She gets it." the emerald eyes emit two green laser beams, carefully cutting the ropes around the girl. "If you wish to praisse me, then lounge on a big rock, and bask in a warm sunbeam. Enjoy the warmth of the ssand as you wiggle through it. Or lay some eggss and raisse them well. Now sscatter, you foolss!"
The cultists cower in fear and flee.
The snake head turns to the girl. "Wanna play ssome ssnakes and ladderss?"
Thin line of a staircase winds its way up the snowy mountain peak. Exhausted young man finally reaches his destination - an ancient temple. Inside, an old kung fu master meditates.
"Master, I come here to seek your wisdom. I must avenge my father. How do I become the strongest warrior of all?".
The master slowly opens one eye. "You must harness the power of cheetos."
"Cheetos?" asks the young man in confusion.
"Cheetos. The spicy, crunchy, delicious potato chips that come in multiple flavors! As the ancient legends say, once you pop - you can't stop!"
"I don't understand, how is that supposed to help me to learn kung fu?"
"Some secrets are not for the mortals to know. Sometimes, the management says 'we have a new sponsor', and all that's left for the rest of us is to practice acceptance and patience."
"Wow, that is very wise of you, master." the young man writes it down. "Thank you for sharing your wisdom."
"That's what you get when you ask for advice in Chummy Cheetah's Temple. Brought to you by cheetos. Taste the crunch!" replies the master. A single tear streams down his cheek.
An adventure about a naive mammoth-barbarian who must rescue a farmer's cow from a huge sentient spider queen that is terrorizing the village.
Logline: A naive mammoth-barbarian (Torrok Strongtusk) must rescue an innocent farm girl from a huge sentient spider queen (Velsa) that is terrorizing the village.
Logline: An idealistic space-rebel (Eli) fights the evil Alliance to protect the last space-pirate outpost. The Alliance agents have obtained the drive with the coordinates of the space pirate base, and Eli has to infiltrate their flagship and destroy the drive, before their scientists manage to decrypt it.
Richly appointed room of an old manor - portraits, chandelier, taxidermy animal heads mounted on the wall. A man in a bathrobe sits in a fancy chair in front of the fireplace, smoking a pipe, reading a newspaper, drinking his evening wine. From the wall emerges a glowing ghost, he floats through the air, dangling his chains.
"Think about your sins and mistakes," the ghost boos, "redeem yourself, Wellington, before it is too late."
"Oh, Bartholomew, just the man I was looking for! Fetch me my fuzziest slippers, will you?" Wellington replies nonchalantly, without looking up from his newspaper.
"How dare you! I am a being from the great beyond, here to show you the error of your ways!" the ghost thunders in rage, the mounted animal heads on the wall begin to weep blood.
"Yes, yes, very menacing. But you want your allowance, don't you?" Wellington raises an eyebrow.
"Yes," the ghost growls abashedly.
"And between the two of us, who has purchased Microsoft shares in the 90s and made a fortune?"
"You did," the ghost lowers his head.
"So off you go then. Slippers, and, oh, another wine bottle, if you please. Be a good boy, and I might even let you haunt your own room in this house, for half the rent."
The ghost flits away. Wellington sips his wine. "Ahh. I love being rich."
Shady warehouse. Two goons guard the entrance.
"I don't think Jeff is one of us, I think he's an undercover cop," whispers one.
"It's 'police officer', you punk!"
"Um, yes, sorry, that's what I meant."
"You goddamn right, now hand me that doughnut!"
Elso (think Orlando Bloom) is at the top of his Ranger class in the Hero Academy of a big fantasy city. Garrick (think evil Michael Cera) is the least successful student. On their final exam (monster hunting through a fantasy forest) outshines Garrick in a humiliating way.
Shadowy figure (think fantasy Bruce Wayne), impressed by what he's seen at the exam, recruits Elso into Night Rangers - a secret league of vigilantes, protecting the city from the shadows.
Garrick, having failed the exam and expelled from the school, sneaks into school headmaster's office, and steals the Blood Ruby - an artifact capable of controlling monsters. He leaves for the Dark Mountains, and starts gathering an army of monsters (huge spiders, snakes, vampire bats, etc.)
At the climax, Elso must defeat the city from the monster army by stealthily stealing the Blood Ruby from Garrick.
Scene ideas:
Past the rivers of lava emerging from the active volcano, past the dead forests and lakes of tears, a little gnome snuk into the gaping maw of a cave in the side of the doom mountain. Sinister red glow illuminated his plump face and long white beard.
"Oh, gee, golly, what a journey it was!" whispered the gnome to himself "But as I always say, with a bit of elbowgrease and friendship, there's nothing you can't accomplish!"
He stepped deeper into the cave and gazed in wonder at all the glowing red crystals embedded into the walls. "Finally, the mana crystals! One of these babies can power my gadgets and doodads for years to come!" Excitedly, he pulled out a wrench from his backpack, and tried to pry one open.
In a puff of dust, an enormous demon appeared right next to him. "Who dares to steal the crystals of sin?"
"Oh, my! Aren't you a tough customer," the gnome looked up at the demon and gave him a friendly smile, "Hello Mr! Don't let me bother you, I am just here to get a little crystal for my workshop."
The demon laughed "Oh, you wish to power your gadgets with these crystals! Well why don't you just take one!" he pried one from the wall with his huge claw, "for free! You don't pay for the crystals here, not with the money, that is!"
"Gee, thanks for your help, mister! It's awful nice of you!" smiled the gnome and pocketed the pulsating red shard.
He walked out of the cave whistling a merry tune as the demon's laughs echoed behind him.
"I wonder if this fellow knows that we have invented crystal purifying tech years ago? My wife will love to use the sins extracted from this thing to power up her toaster oven."
The dunes of white sand surrounded two travelers on all sides. Jarl, a rugged nomad led the way as Garrick, his young companion, tried to keep up. Ahead of them, a colossal figure slowly emerged from under the sand.
"Oh, no!" whispered Garrick in stunned horror. "The sandsloth! What are we gonna do?"
Blood drained from Jarl's stern face. "We're gonna die," he said grimly, "nobody has seen the sandsloth and survived."
"There must be something! You have escaped from the black pits of Caldorum, you have saved the queen from the dagger-toothed devilbeasts! Hell, you have even defeated the King of Night! There must be something you can do to save us, I'm too young to die!" whined Garrick.
The sandsloth loomed over them like a mountain, and raised its paw for an attack, excruciatingly slowly.
"Look at how slow they are!" exclaimed Garrick.
"That only means we're gonna die slowly. The myths don't lie, our doom is as certain as it is terrible."
"I say, we run!" Garrick turned, and sprinted in the opposite direction from the sloth.
"Fine, if a slight glimmer of hope will brighten your last minutes in this cruel world." growled Jarl, and ran after.
Hours later, the giant figure of the sloth was nothing but a dark spot on the horizon. Jarl and Garrick sat around a small campfire, Jarlb lankly staring into the distance, Garrick preparing their stew.
Garrick looked at his mentor puzzled "Do you think we didn't have to lose the generations of sand nomads to the sloths, if they knew you don't have to give up, and can just run away?"
"Who knows," murmured Jarl "myths are a powerful force. Maybe we did believe in them a little too hard."
[WP] Write the most exciting story you can about the most boring profession you can imagine.
