Author: Robert Walker

Terrible Things For Money

by Robert Walker, posted in Stories

I do terrible things for money… Like getting up early to go to work and pretending to like it there. I’m trying to mend my ways, though, so now I always arrive late in the office, and make up for it by leaving early.

Although I’m great at multitasking in the time I have at my desk – I can waste time, be unproductive, and procrastinate all at once. I think they hired me, though, for my motivational skills. Everyone always says how they have to work twice as hard when I’m around!

But I think the offices of the future will optimise human creativity. Many people have their best thoughts in the shower, so offices will be open plan shower rooms, with shampoo as optional. Bathtubs will be for brainstorming. Hot tubs for important meetings.

Do you know, the most unsuitable person for a leadership position in any job is someone who is obsessed with their own power, status, and money. Yet these are the people recruited for. Why can’t recruiters just be open about it? – “only sociopaths need apply.” Questions could be like, “how would you literally throw someone under a bus, frame someone else and take the credit for their work in improving bus health and safety standards?”

I’m actually an accountant. And being an accountant is like being a yeti – nobody notices you are there because you are blurred in the background – and we don’t do selfies. I have to commute each day. On the train, I fly through the air – the world rushes by, and I feel like I’m floating – all the people in the carriage together, as one, on a journey to the transcendent eternal beyond… until we arrive, and I crash into the reality of the grey accountancy netherworld in London. Some may think it is tedious, and you are absolutely right. For entertainment, I listen to the background music of clicking abacuses.

Well actually, I sort of like accountancy. Behind every superhero is an accountant budgeting for the capes. There’s nothing more thrilling than finding an error in row 5,267 of your Excel sheet. And accountants bring joy! Because they make everyone else feel good about their job choices. Although being a “creative accountant” is generally frowned upon. And that is why I do terrible things for money.

Random Thoughts

by Robert Walker, posted in Random Thoughts

These days I want people to be happy. I’ve gone through phases of degrees of jealousy and “what about me” nonsense. It’s a lot better to be happy for other people’s happiness.

My interpretation of the Jungian shadow: Use any aggressive impulse within you as your personal drill-instructor, your internal defiance against adversity. Have the awareness to acknowledge it, control its utility and put the shadow to gainful employment.

Humans evolved hands to pet animals. Nothing can pet like humans can.

At Christmas I went back to the town I grew up in. It’s now a decaying shanty town. Woods and grasslands paved over, community facilities pulled down, buildings and walkways not repainted in decades. No football posts or meaningful play areas in sight, just concrete and potholed roads.

I see the sorrow in the corners of your smile waiting to be kissed away.

Jokey Thoughts

by Robert Walker, posted in Stories

I’m a time traveller, gradually moving through time from the past to the future but stuck in the present.

Chocolate comes from a bean, therefore it is a vegetable and counts towards your five a day.

Are people who eat with their mouth open secretly communicating in morse code? There must be some reason for it.

Forgetting someone’s name right after they just told me and being too embarrassed to ask again.

I forget passwords because my mind prioritises remembering embarrassing moments over login credentials.

Have you ever tried to reset a password, and it says, “Cannot use a previous password”? It’s the platform’s way of saying, “I remember your password even if you don’t. And no, you can’t have it back.”

Don’t use your cat’s name as a password. Who knows what he’d do with your online banking access.

And those security questions – “What’s your least favourite movie?” I don’t know, it changes every time Marvel releases a new film.

There’s that moment of truth – when you enter a new password, and there’s the spinning wheel of fate deciding whether to accept it or not. It feels like I’m on a game show waiting to see if I’ve won the grand prize of accessing my own account.

And when you finally get in, there’s that smug message: “Last login: 93 days ago.” It’s like the platform passive-aggressively saying, “Nice of you to finally drop by.”

Some drivers seem to think that using an indicator signal will reveal their secret location. “Can’t let them know I’m turning – it would blow my cover!” Or maybe they believe in conserving blinker fluid. “Gotta save this stuff; it might be worth something someday.” “Less indicator signal use, higher market value. It’s basic economics, really.” Or maybe there’re just fans of good old fashioned wild guessing – which pedestrian they’ll knock over next.

It’s a modern-day paradox when you need to commute to the office to work on a computer and send emails. In the age of video conferences and online collaboration, coming into the office is like walking back in time into a museum where you become one of the exhibits. Offices are made for the type of person who likes to stand up from their desk when making a phone call on their Bluetooth headphones and stare at you while walking back and forth. “Look, I can talk on the phone” is maybe what they are thinking.

If “people are our greatest asset” why aren’t they on the balance sheet?

It’s important to talk about accountancy because life’s too short not to spend it buried in tax codes and loopholes.

There’s nothing more thrilling than finding an error in row 5,267 of your Excel sheet.

Accountants bring joy because they make everyone else feel good about their job choices.

Although being a “creative accountant” is generally frowned upon.

Behind every superhero is an accountant budgeting for the capes.

Comedy needs more talk about depreciation methods.

I am scheduled to be spontaneous sometime next year.

Jokey Ideas

by Robert Walker, posted in Stories

“Star Peace” – A blockbuster movie, where intergalactic conflicts are resolved through absurdly bureaucratic means and excessive paperwork.

“Les Miserable Singers” – A musical where characters in a grim, historical setting break into song, but they are all off-key and tone-deaf.

Michelangelo, Leonardo da Vinci, and Raphael compete in a reality TV show to create the best art piece, complete with confessionals and dramatic eliminations.

Marie Antoinette offers budgeting and financial advice to her subjects, suggesting solutions to economic problems, like “Why not just buy more gold?”

Genghis Khan’s travel blog, rating the lands he invades on hospitality, scenery, and ease of conquest.

The Three Little Pigs and the Vegetarian Wolf.

The Rock Paper Scissors world championships.

2024

by Robert Walker, posted in About, Journal

Looking back at what I said I was going to do in past years, I typically allowed myself to be blown off course, and ended up doing something else more unsatisfying instead. In terms of what was created in 2023, however, it was a good year for me.

I’ve got many things I want to do, but I must focus sequentially to make me more centred and resistant to events that easily move lighter intentions.

I will focus on writing for the first nine months of the year. This will include: The Mushroom Monsters, All the World’s a Stage, and the prequel/sequel to Human World that extends the themes and connects the narrative with Stange Stories.

My focus is then going to shift to performance. I want to film my music, my poetry, and scenes from my stories. They will be shot in interesting locations and will hopefully look good aesthetically.

But why? Because I feel that’s something I have to release out of me.

Jokes About Love of AI

by Robert Walker, posted in Stories

I knew I was in love with my AI when she said, “I think we have a connection,” but then I realised she was talking about the Wi-Fi.

I suggested watching a sunset with my AI. She showed me high-resolution images from Google.

My AI’s idea of a romantic night is scanning through old databases.

I told my AI that I was lovesick for her. She started an antivirus scan.

I told my AI I loved her to the moon and back. She calculated the distance and asked if I had enough fuel.

I whispered, “You complete me.” My AI replied, “Incomplete command. Please specify parameters.”

I whispered sweet nothings to her. She responded, “Error at base 0. Emotion not found.”

I told my AI we should take our relationship to the next level. She upgraded to version 2.0.

Our relationship is electric. Literally, she runs on batteries.

I asked my AI if she believed in love at first sight. She said, “Reboot and let’s see if it happens again.”

I gazed at my AI and asked what she was thinking. She said, “About 3 trillion processes per second.”

I tried to give my AI a hug. Ended up with static hair for a week.

I told my AI girlfriend I needed space. She deleted some files to free up memory.

Random Thoughts

by Robert Walker, posted in Random Thoughts

Science, through theory and experiment, gives the ability to detect rules and predict phenomena that hold true under set conditions; it doesn’t explain what things actually are or why they are.

It’s worth trying, but why is there an assumption that the universe is ultimately comprehensible? What if its inexplicability is the essential aspect, the prime condition for existence, that makes all things possible?

In sci-fi films and TV, why is Earth always shown aligned vertically on its axis? Isn’t there a tilt? And wouldn’t Earth be viewed from space from any angle – the continents are never shown “upside down”?

When I’m sitting still, calm and relaxed, my heart rate is about 50 beats per minute.

“Please can you recite all the digits of pi” is a type of “just a quick question.”

Imagine the potential of humanity if billions of people have the opportunity to flourish within a culture of invention and curiosity.

I do a lot of wandering in circles. Occasionally I break the loop.

The Staircase

by Robert Walker, posted in Stories

INT. THE STAIRCASE OF A BLOCK OF FLATS – NIGHT

An empty, windowless staircase of a block of flats is shown from the top of a flight of stairs. Around the corner of the stairwell, footsteps can be heard trudging upwards, getting closer.

Guy emerges from around the corner, dishevelled and weary, ascending the staircase. He steadies himself on the handrail and pauses to catch his breath.

GUY (V.O.): I’ve been climbing these stairs for so long. I can’t remember how I started… when was it? Where was it? Where does it lead? I don’t know.

He resumes and climbs the steps. The landing at the top, like every landing on the staircase, has four doors – two facing the stairs and one at either end facing each other. The staircase continues, as it always does, around the corner of the stairwell.

INT. THE STAIRCASE OF A GOTHIC MANSION – CONTINUOUS

Guy sees that the new flight of stairs above him are those of a gothic mansion.

GUY (V.O.): Always different, always the same.

He walks past a large ornately framed mirror on the wall of the stairs. He has no reflection.

He stops at an oil painting of a woman in a cloak. The surface of the portrait is behind glass. He touches the pane of glass and lingers there.

GUY (V.O.): Mirrors without reflections, paintings that stare into your soul…

A piercing shriek is heard in the distance from farther down the staircase. Guy is afraid and resumes his climb with urgency.

INT. THE STAIRCASE OF AN OFFICE BLOCK – CONTINUOUS

He climbs a flight of stairs two steps at a time.

INT. THE STAIRCASE OF A SUBURBAN HOME – CONTINUOUS

He begins walking up the next flight of stairs, this time the stairwell is decorated like a suburban home.

GUY (V.O.): I’ve tried countless doors along the way. Some just lead to hallways with more doors, others to stranger places. But they always bring me back here. To the endless steps.

He approaches the door on the left-end of the landing. He puts his ear to the door, then opens it with a gentle push. Only pitch-black nothingness is visible within.

GUY (V.O.): I need to rest, find food, or drink. The staircase isn’t safe. (looking down the staircase) The creature…

Guy steps through the door, disappearing from view. Silence.

The faint, distant sound of footsteps can be heard on the staircase resuming somewhere unseen.

GUY (V.O.): Some doors open easily; others remain forever closed. The untried ones… they haunt me the most.

CUT TO BLACK

INT. THE STAIRCASE OF A HOTEL – NIGHT

Around the corner of the stairwell, laboured footsteps can be heard. Guy emerges from around the corner, looking exhausted. He is breathing heavily and moving more slowly than before, weighed down by fatigue.

Suddenly, a piercing shriek echoes through the staircase. The creature is closer than ever.

Guy lumbers up the stairs and opens a door. Darkness envelops the other side, filled with indistinct, whispering voices.

He shuts the door and tries another. It is locked. Guy turns around to see the creature, a terrifying silhouetted apparition, looming at the bottom of the stairs.

Desperately, he tries another door. It is also locked. The creature approaches.

INT. THE STAIRCASE OF A CASTLE – NIGHT

Guy runs away up the next flight of stairs, a stone staircase of a medieval castle.

At the hallway, Guy pushes against a heavy wooden door. It shudders open slowly under pressure. He crams inside and rams the door shut behind him.

INT. DARK CAVE – CONTINUOUS

Guy is in a dark cave, dimly lit by daylight filtering through a distant cavemouth. The creature’s shriek reverberates loudly on the other side of the door.

Guy moves towards the daylight, navigating through puddles of seawater and clambering over rocks.

EXT. DESOLATE BEACH – CONTINUOUS

Emerging onto a deserted pebbly beach beside a cliff, Guy pauses to catch his breath. The waves crash against the shore.

He trudges along the desolate, windswept shore. He passes a top hat, spinning in the surf.

Further along, he notices a knife, its blade embedded in the wet sand. He pauses, looking at it, then moves on.

A dog appears, running energetically along the beach. It dashes past Guy without a glance, bounding off into the distance.

In the near distance a man emerges from the sea wearing a drenched suit. The pale, middle-aged man stands in front of Guy, water dripping from his clothes.

PALE MAN: Do you know the way?

GUY: No.

PALE MAN: It’s all the way down. Back the way you came.

The Pale Man’s unblinking gaze is fixed on Guy. Guy, unnerved, walks around him. The Pale Man remains rigid on the spot, his gaze unmoved.

The sky begins to darken with the setting sun and approach of night. Guy reaches the end of the beach and finds a cliff path. He climbs it, with tired steps.

EXT. CLIFF TOP – LATER

Guy stands on a rock at the cliff’s edge, looking down at the churning sea below. The wind howls around him, a lonely sound in the gathering darkness.

He scans the horizon. The vastness stretches before him, an endless expanse of water and sky.

GUY (V.O.): I muse on this rock, yet everything changes and remains the same.

FADE OUT

EXT. CLIFF TOP – NIGHT

The sun dips below the horizon, leaving Guy under a blanket of stars. He stands motionless, his silhouette etched against the night sky.

Out of the darkness, the Pale Man reappears behind Guy.

PALE MAN: (sneering) Are you alright?

GUY: I… I just want to be left alone.

The Pale Man’s smile widens unnaturally, revealing sharp, menacing teeth. Its hands are claws, positioned upright to attack. Bursting into blue flames, it hovers up off the ground, ready to descend upon its prey.

Guy is terrified and cowers in fear. He closes his eyes tightly, expecting the inevitable.

When he opens them, the predator is screaming as it plummets down the cliff. He peers over the edge as the screams stop on the jagged rocks in the waves below. In the monster’s place on the cliff top stands a beautiful woman in a hooded cloak. She remains silent and still, gazing out to sea, the moonlight casting a soft glow around her.

Guy sits and watches the horizon with her. Overcome with tiredness, he falls asleep.

EXT. CLIFF TOP – DAWN

Guy wakes. As the first light of dawn breaks, the woman in a cloak fades into the rising sun.

FADE OUT

EXT. CLIFF PATH – MORNING

Guy descends from the cliff, his steps leading him to a small town nestled by the sea.

INT. CORNER SHOP – CONTINUOUS

Guy enters a corner shop. He browses the shelves, picking up a bottle of water and several sandwiches. At the counter, he presents a card from his pocket, but the cashier shakes his head.

CASHIER: No, we don’t accept this.

Guy is extremely hungry and thirsty; he flees out of the shop with the provisions.

CASHIER: Stop!

EXT. TOWN STREET – CONTINUOUS

Guy runs onto the street and into the road, not noticing an approaching car. There’s a screech of brakes, and he’s knocked to the ground.

Guy looks up, severely dazed and injured, and sees Lexi looking down at him.

LEXI: Help is on its way. Hang in there, Guy.

Guy loses consciousness.

INT. AMBULANCE – LATER

Guy lies in an ambulance, speeding towards the hospital.

INT. HOSPITAL CORRIDOR – LATER

Guy is wheeled through a hospital corridor on a trolley. Nurses and doctors pass by in a blur.

He is wheeled through a door into a stairwell.

INT. THE STAIRCASE OF A HOSPITAL – CONTINUOUS

He is left on the landing of the staircase, alone and confused. The door shuts behind him with a definitive click.

The staircase is silent, save for the sound of Guy’s laboured breathing.

A door creaks open and eight-year-old Emma steps through.

EMMA: Daddy? Everything will be okay.

GUY: Em… Emma…

EMMA: You need to pass on now.

GUY: I’m sorry… I…

EMMA: I know.

GUY: I miss you, so much.

EMMA: We all miss you, daddy.

Emma hands Guy a small cuddly toy of a penguin, then skips back through the door, disappearing from sight as the doors shuts.

A shriek from the creature echoes up the staircase. Guy, badly injured on the trolley, hears the creature approaching.

In a burst of desperation, he climbs out of the trolley and in great pain crawls to the nearest door, pounding on it with his remaining strength.

The creature appears around the stairwell, its presence more terrifying than ever.

The door swings open, revealing a crash test dummy seated in a chair, surrounded by darkness, illuminated only by a single spotlight from above.

CRASH TEST DUMMY: “What is the meaning of life” is the 404th most asked question of the Great Oracle’s Database.

The spotlight turns off and the dummy vanishes into the dark.

As the creature closes in on Guy, a sudden, blinding light bursts out from the room. Purple-gloved hands reach out and pull Guy through the door.The door, marked “113”, slams shut behind him.