Wednesday, May 31, 2017

2 0 8 4:M i s s i v e 16

My papers have arrived!

It's the last day of your month in 2017 so I have a small window of time to reach out to you with an update about my life here in 2084, which is the year to which I was transported through the Vitalnet app on my phone.  As I've explained in past communiques, your life is moving along month by month, but only days have passed here since my last message as Ilion (the name I took on to avoid confusion between the Troy that is still in 2017, the Troy that is newly here in 2084 [aka me, Ilion] and the Troy that aged into being here in 2084 [aka t1a7n72.lif]).

In order to leave the Florida Isles, which is all that remains after the rapidly rising sea tide took over the land mass once known as Florida proper that always had been surrounded by water, the InstransiGents that took me in to the refugee camp as instructed to by my SQ, IQ and EQ files that were uploaded to the Vitalnet prior to my traditional "death", procured them for me so that I may travel.

These papers are indeed PCB approved (hopefully you recall all the information I provided about the Population Control Board in my last few notes -- or if you don't recall, you have access to them through my social media accounts from your era), and that means I will be travelling by cocaine cargo barge from these lands now owned by the Chapo-Escobar cartel, as they do control all the remaining dry land in what was once known as the Caribbean and Latin America, including these Florida Isles.

I understand that I will be arriving in Old Orleans, a wild bit of town on the Bay of Mississippi, which has separated East and West America since the New Madrid Quake of 2023 -- brought on by unregulated excessive fracking in the heartland.  Overlaying a map from my time on to a map from this new time, it appears to be in the area where Tuscaloosa, Alabama would have once been.

My friends in the IntransiGents assure me that it is the easiest entry point into East America, and that my papers won't be as scrutinized there by the Covfefe Crew -- an organization of extreme nationalists who have accepted the outsourced task of immigration control in the new Americas.  However, the papers are still essential in order to avoid any attention being drawn to the fact that I am neither six-fingered (as the children birthed in the zoos by the PCB have been genetically engineered to be for greatest efficiency in texting) nor am I in possession of the notifications implant in the spot behind my right ear.

I have no more time, what with the end of month update to the Vitalnet that creates this opportunity almost complete, but I do hope to speak with you on the last day of the month next from the heart of Old Orleans.  Until then, I remain, as I always do, Ilion in 2084 as brought to the future by t1a7n72.lif., communicating with you through the use of Troy in 2017's social media accounts.