Okay, it turns out I can't make much money writing quatrains and having a long, unruly beard. So my thought is that I can gain immortality as an oracle while also making money by becoming a writer of science fiction whilst making outlandish-yet-specific predictions spawned from my drunken fever dreams. If any of those predictions hit, people will ignore the bad predictions I use for plot devices and focus on the stupidly obvious things that came true.
|Okay, I didn't predict Helicopter Cat, but who could, "heliCATer" doesn't sound right. Source and story.|
As a treat to you (or a treat to FUTURE you), here are some things that I will predict in my sci-fi novel...sorry, SyFy novel (the channel SyFy bought the rights already, maybe because I called my manuscript, "Mega Yeti Vs. Mecha-Chupacabra Vs. Debbie Gibson Riding a Loch Ness Monster." And if you found any part of that funny, you're my friend forever you super-nerd):
|But my title was absurd? Advantage, Pickleope.|
Rugs will all come with fiber-optic technology and nano-somethings that will vacuum all surfaces, hence, no more toxic cleaning products. But, oh yeah, that same nano-whatevers will also be spying on people and self-destruct making us prisoners in a police state, but on the good side, it will end the "War on Drugs," but bad news, pot is still considered an illegal drug, but then people, without the ability to numb themselves to the horrors of general consciousness will rise up against our oppressors. Then uh-oh, the nano-dealies will all explode and we're left with a government with no one to govern. That is, until they figure out how to make us all nano-powered bodies without heads (or the other way around) who will do all the work without much complaining, until the people realize we're being denied the chance to have sex! That's when the people/nano riots start. Society is a complete mess until we reinvent the Amish who are outside of the human-nano war (not realizing they are in fact part human, part nano bot. NANO BOT! That's the word I've been searching for.)
We all decide what the true meaning of "art" is and erase our collective memory of Andy Warhol.
|Here's the Google Goggle (singular)...or just some Steampunk thing. Source.|
Now I just have to figure out how to weave those into a compelling plot, inspire some kid with actual ambition and desire to invent things, and I will be hailed as "ahead of my time." If even one of those comes out as being true, I'm Ray freaking Bradbury! (RIP Ray Brads)
The plot is hard. I have almost everything else. Like, it's easy to name aliens. All you have to do is take any sex toy and drop one of the consonants in the word and then you have the name of an alien. "We were beset upon by the Dilo insects of the Sybia nebula, we had to call for help from the benevolent Be-Wa Bal aliens." It's like writer magic.