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Monday Morning Mark • 95
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Monday Morning Mark

Monday Morning Mark • 95

Funny Walk • Ever The Cynic • If I Close My Eyes • Transgalactic Consciousness Transfer

Mark Starlin
Jun 20
16
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Monday Morning Mark • 95
markstarlinwrites.substack.com
One Minute Wit

Funny Walk

Bogdan Glisik


If you take a step, fall down,

get up, take a step, fall down,

get up, take a step, fall down.

You should probably wait until the giant swinging ship ride comes a complete stop before trying to depart.

Two Old Guys On A Park Bench

Ever The Cynic

You can’t believe everything you hear.

Poem

If I Close My Eyes

Brooke Cagle


If I close my eyes
I can be a forest ranger
I can keep the forest safe
I can watch out for the danger

If I close my eyes
I can be a great songwriter
And sing songs that unify
Make the world a little brighter

If I close my eyes
I can visit far-off places
I can marvel at their wonders
And meet many smiling faces

If I close my eyes
I can be a world-class cook
And create new taste sensations
Then sell my recipe book

If I close my eyes
I can find my one true love
Who will fill my heart with joy
And be all I’m thinking of

If I close my eyes
I can do most anything
In my imagination
I envision everything

I love my flights of fancy
But now I must open my eyes
I have some work to do
For my dreams to realize

Story

Transgalactic Consciousness Transfer

Public Domain • Digital Comic Museum


Transgalactic Consciousness Transfer is what they called it — the process of sending consciousness across galaxies. Dr. Wen Roosa had joined forces with Dr. Fet Nooft to create the technology. Dr. Roosa had mastered consciousness transfer, and Dr. Nooft was in charge of intergalactic travel.

Both men believed the problem of physical intergalactic space travel could not be solved, so they focused on sending consciousness instead. Since consciousness is not physical, it solved most of the problems scientists had previously encountered, except one. Consciousness transfer had been outlawed.

The issue was, when transferring the consciousness from one person to another, the transferred consciousness overwrote the consciousness of the receiving person. Thereby effectively murdering them and stealing their body.

Roosa and Nooft had no problem with that. Their work was advancing science. In their opinion, a few sacrifices were worth it. So they continued their work in a secret lab.

The Woochin Counsel learned the lab’s location and sent troops to shut it down and arrest both doctors.

The doctors heard a loud banging on the lab door and a voice yelling, “Open up, Compliance officers.”

Nooft ran out the back door where several armed officers were waiting.

Roosa knew his only hope was to use the transfer device.

The scientists had been targeting a tiny planet in the Milky Way galaxy they called Blue, because of its blue appearance, and the detection of conscious life forms.

Roosa engaged the device.

A moment later, Roosa found himself standing on the sidewalk in New York City. His home planet of Wooch had nothing similar to it. He was shocked as metal vehicles and native beings passed by, all seeming to be in a hurry. He gazed in wonder at the massive buildings that surrounded him.

Roosa was overwhelmed, but alive. It had worked!

“Hey, Mack, you wanna move. You’re blocking the door,” one of the natives said.

How he could understand the creature, Roosa didn’t know. Perhaps his consciousness had joined with the previous consciousness. Or retained parts of it.

Roosa looked down at his hands. They were an odd pale color, and the texture was squishy and wrinkly. Suddenly Roosa felt a buzzing sensation against his leg. He reached into his garment pocket and pulled out the rectangular device that was causing the buzzing. As Roosa looked at the device, it lit up, and a box appeared. The box said he had an appointment with Dr. Levitt in fifteen minutes. Then it showed a map with directions to the location of the appointment.

Roosa followed the colored line on the map and soon found himself at a doctor’s office. He was led into a room where he sat and waited. Eventually, a Blue native came in and sat down across from him.

“Stan, I am afraid it’s bad news. The cancer is getting more aggressive. The treatments aren’t working. You have maybe a month to live. I am terribly sorry.”

Roosa sat there, stunned.

I guess there is no escaping justice, he thought.

Happy Monday.

Mark

Thanks for reading and responding. You make it fun.

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Fawzi Ammache
Writes Year 2049 Jun 25

Loved the poem 💯

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Pearl Allard
Jun 21Liked by Mark Starlin

Thanks for the entertainment!

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