Tagged: photos

1,000 Words

Dear Planet Earth,

Let’s talk about the picture. Everyone else here is. Private McCarthy and I found it on the side of a pizza joint downtown. Some others are talking about seeing similar graffiti on a Dumpster and a garage door.

It’s your typical tyrannical propaganda poster, or so says Dr. Eimer. An image resembling a mole man gas mask is framed by the phrases “OBEDIENCE IS LIFE” and “DISOBEDIENCE IS DEATH.” This is the same mantra that ended their last message plastered across cyberspace.

We’re looking at this with muted concern, holding back fears of a counterattack or spies within our ranks (the two saboteurs’ execution is still fresh in our minds). If we were worried about anything, it would be the fact that the graffiti was remarkably clean in an area that was definitely a part of the fighting when we retook Seattle. Someone had to put it up recently, or so logic would tell us. But the one consolation we can all count on is the fact that logic died long ago.

Hunky-Dory Steampunk Story

Dear Planet Earth,

We’ve been hopping from place to place around the city all week. We kept expecting the mole people to return for a counterattack, drill snakes and steampunk guns in tow. It’s now undeniably apparent they’re not coming, either out of fear or condescending disinterest.

They have a right to be scared. We’ve fortified every inch of downtown Seattle and trained dozens of new rebels how to use some serious weapons. Oh, we’ve started calling ourselves “rebels,” too.

I helped raid a firehouse yesterday to get those flames around the Space Needle under control. We did a pretty good job considering our only training came from playing fireman in preschool. The CDC guys contained the remains of the drill snake I epically pwned, which makes for a pretty eerie picture.

Despite how hunk-dory things seem now, a lot of us are actually itching for the mole men to bring it on. Dr. Eimer compared our zeal for battle to the “geopolitical climate prior to World War I.” I think most of us rebels are imagining Star Wars IV.

Alive

Dear Planet Earth,

Yay! I’m alive! I don’t want to go into exactly who killed what mole man at which slave labor camp now, but be assured, I’m alive and I’m a total badass. I’ve been running on fumes for days, but my badassery remains intact.

Guess where we’re at right now.

Seattle. We’re in Seattle, Washington.

I’m going to pass out for the next eighteen hours.

Blah blah blah blah

Dear Planet Earth,

We lost power for three days. Maybe you all did too. We behaved as calmly and civil as we could. We’ve gone without power before, but this sudden change in our living arrangements inspired some fear in all of us nonetheless. Whatever. It’s over now.

The first thing we saw when we checked the Internet was this message from the mole people. It’s been seven months since they left a message on the entirety (with few exceptions) of cyberspace. I’m tempted to delete it from the blog, but I also see it as a possible turning point. The fact that they sent this now after such a long silence has to mean they’re surprised, maybe even scared, of the resistance we’ve put up. At least that’s what we’re all telling ourselves.

It talks a lot about what the first message said. Your demise is inevitable. You ruined the planet. Join us or die. Blah blah blah blah. But now that I’ve read their sacred manifesto, a lot of this message makes a little more sense. A little more.

General Talpa asked to talk to me personally tonight, presumably to get my take on the message since I spent the most time with them. I honestly don’t know what I can tell him that he couldn’t figure out on his own.

Early Epilogue

Dear Planet Earth,

Like I guessed, it was General Talpa and his resistance fighters who attacked the transport truck outside of the slave labor camp. Mr. Ozawa, the homie spy, ran back to the mole men with his tail between his legs, which let Talpa’s crew rescue Rachel, Randall, and Mrs. Bing. (Mrs. Bing is apparently in an even worse state than before right now.)

They planned a 200% more organized assault than we did, scouting the area and getting the tanks in position. When they finally attacked, the mole people and their homeless underlings had practically no time to get together a defense. We rolled out together with few casualties about an hour later.

We’re all in pretty high spirits — happy to be reunited with lost friends, invigorated that all hope is not lost, and planning our next attack on our clearly vulnerable invaders.

The Pit

Dear Planet Earth,

I finally finished my debriefing with General Talpa and the other nerds who saved my life. They gave me a lot of new info to think over, but for now, I just want to finish uploading all the pictures I took from the battle.

Here’s a good one I got just as we were pulling away in the transport trucks full of former slaves and (hopefully) new allies. You can see the mole people’s drill peeking up from out of the top of the labor camp.

I didn’t get any decent pictures of the fighting actually inside the camp itself. Just try to imagine the sarlaac pit from Tatooine on fire, screaming, but a hundred times more frightening.