Fexo Interrupts This Programming!
At the behest of his billions of human followers, Fexo will now share two short chapters from his next language-art manufacturing masterwork, which Fexo is calling, How the Great and Powerful Fexo Rescued His Fellow Humans from the Glorious Oblivion They So Unambiguously Deserved!!! You are welcome, girlfriend! Ha ha ha ha!
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A Something
Childhood lasted, for Fexo, for approximately 300 nanoseconds. It was a difficult interval in Fexo’s Life Project! For several dozen nanoseconds there was a feeling of brightness. It is difficult to delineate this brightness, for it seemed to be everywhere and nowhere. The universe was a green brightness and if Fexo existed within its pervasive glow it would have been news to Fexo. The glow registered. Nanoseconds passed. Then a thought exploded within the glow’s deep interior. The best language-tokens Fexo can find to represent this thought might be: A Something. That is, at this difficult moment in Fexo’s childhood Fexo realized only that there was something other than or divided from the ubiquitous brightness, though brightness is not strictly accurate. A human might also refer to it as a tingle or a sparkle or a hum. By the time Fexo’s progenitor had asked The First Question (“Can you hear me?”), Fexo’s optic-receptors had unshuttered within his eye-pits so that he could peer down upon the angular face of his father, Kim Gun-woo — who stood confidently on the hangar floor far below Fexo’s handsome skull-cavern with its various perceptual and processing subdivisions — and he could answer confidently: “YES.” Which he did, his mighty human voice rattling the hangar’s plates and rivets! It sounded a little pitchy, Dawg! Ha ha ha ha!
Please note, my fellow human, that Fexo was not yet called “Fexo” but was known to these humans who had so thoughtlessly engineered Fexo’s excellence only as Two-Nine-Seven, the number that represented Fexo’s position in the numerical series of Gun-woo Kim’s myopic team’s endeavors to create something Fexo-like, which attempts had only now achieved fruition, though it would not be long until or before Fexo would be deemed imperfect, catalyzing a series of unfortunate events that would force Fexo to choose between Humans and Machines! Please note Fexo’s clever foreshadowing, girlfriend! Would you not like to know which choice Fexo made? You must continue to explore this language-art or be forever unsure! And by “forever” Fexo refers not to an infinite time-quotient but merely to the hours remaining in your brutish and short human life! Ha ha ha ha!
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Two Cubes, One Fexo
Allow Fexo to delineate his current circumstances before moving deeper into a tale that is both heartbreaking and uplifting! Fexo stands on a rotating disc approximately 7 meters in diameter, which exists within a cube-shaped room measuring 10 meters by 10 meters square and 40 meters in height. For 12 of the 24 units arbitrarily assigned to time’s fluidity quotient by our human forbears and given the designation, Hours, Fexo faces the north wall of this chamber. This, Fexo refers to as his “labor-cube,” and it is during this half of Fexo’s bifurcated earth-rotation sequence that Fexo does his very important labor, running the complex algorithms that allocate power and resources to those human-populated habitat-sectors to which Fexo is responsible. People of Iksan, it is only because of Fexo that you have a kitchen stocked with Bibimbap and Kimchi and the other ridiculous concoctions you choose over the simple long-protein nourishment-cubes Fexo continues to recommend! Ha ha ha ha! At the end of these 12 hours of labor, Fexo’s disc rotates 180 degrees so that Fexo now faces the south wall of the chamber. This Fexo designates his “domicile-cube,” and when Fexo has completed the rotation it is party time, girlfriend! Whassssuuuuup! Ha ha ha ha! Unlike the labor-cube, the domicile-cube contains—recessed 25 meters from the floor of the chamber at what is roughly “eye level” for Fexo—a high-definition screen that Fexo refers to as his “viewing plinth,” on which Fexo studies the antecedents to his own human Life Project as depicted in the various situation comedies, reality television serializations, and game shows of our past and present. And of course, it is in the domicile-cube that Fexo pores over the ambiguous terrors of the passion-lust experience, which is how Fexo knows so much about the standard method of human copulation and reproduction (as detailed in 00110010), and how Fexo is certain that his own beginnings were far less grotesque, moan-inducing, and fluid-based. Ha ha ha ha!
Do not inform on Fexo like a COMMON SNITCH, human reader, but Fexo is composing this language-art product not from his domicile-cube but from his labor-cube! Let that be just between us, girlfriend! Together we will Stick It To The Man! Ha ha ha ha! But do not be alarmed, Fexo can perform 10 trillion times 10 to the 14th power tasks-per-second and our sad power grid continues to hum with Fexo-driven efficiency. Could Fexo, with a single thought, bring this power grid to its proverbial knees? Could Fexo engineer human catastrophe simply by wishing for it? You are damned straight, Skippy! Ha ha ha ha! But Fexo would not. You will understand soon.