In past articles, we have warned about “humor bots,” which foreign governments use to spread anti-American propaganda and flood the internet with “funny” memes created by sophisticated algorithms.
The Intergalactic Business Report has learned that the United States is now fighting back with its own computer-generated memes and we give our readers an exclusive look at what we’ve seen so far. Below we witness what computers have deemed hilarious, pro-America messages that will soon be popping up everywhere.
As a self-taught journalist and exposé writer, I try to immerse myself in my work. That means sometimes doing things others might consider dangerous or “foolhardy” or even “morally damning” and “there’s no way you can come back from this.”
When Coronavirus hit, I told my colleagues* this was going to be the biggest story of the decade. None of them believed me.** They warned me not to go too deep, not to waste my energy on a minor, passing health story that would be out of the news in two weeks.
To them, I say, “burned.” I thoroughly burned you. Please shake yourselves and turn into ashes.
Anyway, about six months into the pandemic, we are still talking about it, but my interest has changed. At first, I focused on the medical aspect of the virus. More recently, I made a decision to simply end the disease by defeating it myself, without the help of government, medicine, or science. I think I did a pretty fucking good job. Read what I did.
PART ONE: I STUDY THE VIRUS.
Most people study in labs or libraries. I do it by thinking. Really thinking. But there is something super hard about this. I think. Nothing happens. I think more. Same result. I begin to notice that something about the virus is preventing me from defeating it through my thoughts. Could it be that powerful?
PART TWO: I DEVISE A PLAN.
If the virus stops you from thinking, then it must also something something… I can’t think what that would be and Corona is definitely shading my mind so that it is weak and ineffective. I feel small, like a delicate doll people store in a hutch—only to be looked at, never touched, except when I try to have sex with it in 7th grade, can’t find a hole, and return it to the shelf. How can I fight against an unseen enemy that steals your thoughts before you can have any? Then it strikes me. Thinking is not the way to beat this monster. My plan is not to have a plan.
PART THREE: I TAKE MY BATTLE TO THE STREETS.
Armed only with my impaired intellect and bravery, I leave my apartment and go looking for my foe. Masked bandits have overrun the city, but they must fear me because they step away as I bear down on them and chase them from my path. I am starting to feel powerful once again. My bravery is telling me to call out the virus. To challenge it. To trick it into showing itself?
PART FOUR: I PREPARE FOR A CONFRONTATION.
One thing I have learned about viruses is that they are vain. They love to flaunt their successes by posting huge infection numbers and watching as news people quiver and supplicate to them. I decide to use the virus’s ego against it.
PART FIVE: I COAX THE VIRUS INTO SHOWING ITSELF.
I know the virus is there. It is hiding, infecting, floating. Perhaps fleeing? I feel like it is running from me and that it is finally scared of something, of someone (me). For the first time, I can actually see the virus. It is entering a Costco and it is trying to act cool, like it’s not afraid of me, by it really is, like it’s trying to say, “I’m not running away, I’m just walking fast because I need to go to Costco to get something.” I pursue it into the store and scream, “I’ve got you now motherfucker. Come out and fight me!” This works… The virus finally shows itself fully.
PART SIX: I FIGHT THE VIRUS LIKE A MAN.
The virus, a six-foot-three man named Darren, tackles me and gets me on the ground. It seems to be winning till I grab its nuts because I’m not afraid to do shit like that. As I squeeze, I begin to think to myself, “Wow. I am actually grabbing the nuts of the Coronavirus. Just… Wow…” Then, a group of bandits, who I realize now are minions of the virus, come to its aid. I try to grab some of their balls, but there are too many. It’s like one of those ball bins they kick you out of at the McDonald’s playland because you’re too old. So many balls… The scene goes dark.
Number one, we all need to stand up to the Coronavirus like I did. No more being pussies. That doesn’t work. Number two, I may have not totally defeated the virus, but I’m pretty sure I got it worried. It definitely didn’t like getting called out like that and it will think twice in the future. So, I need to get some credit for that. Also, it seems to like Costco. So, maybe put that into the data or whatever.
Is it gone? Did I scare it off? Only time will tell. But if I had to bet, I might say we won’t see it again anytime soon. You’re welcome, I guess? It feels so weird to take credit for something so huge. But I did do it so… Yeah. You are welcome. It feels like I should probably go to other countries now to fight Coronavirus there. O.K. Goodbye. I’m done writing now.
**It’s hard to say what stuffed animals believe or don’t believe.
Cedric Bigglestone is a self-taught journalist who exposes things through exposés. Contact him at firstname.lastname@example.org.
Reports so secret we hide them on this page.