Om Prakash John Gilmore
Bio
John (Om Prakash) Gilmore, is a Retired Unitarian Universalist Minister, a Licensed Massage Therapist and Reiki Master Teacher, and a student and teacher of Tai-Chi, Qigong, and Nada Yoga. Om Prakash loves reading sci-fi and fantasy.
Stories (105/0)
Finally The Humans Destroyed Themselves
I was in class again. It was a small room with myself and only two other people. An ALF (Artificial Life Form) was standing in front of us teaching us about the customs of the Terrainian people–something I didn’t really care about. I guess he could tell. He looked at me through narrowed lids, tapped the side of his head and sent me a telepathic message. It hurt a little. I wasn’t used to it. They were trying to teach me to be a telepath. When I wasn’t that good at it they implanted a chip in my inner ear to help.
By Om Prakash John Gilmoreabout a year ago in Futurism
Your Brain Is Gone
"We needed a special license for everything on Earth. We needed one for driving, for cooking, for massaging, and eventually for thinking. We were plugged into big MetaVR Programs most of our lives that used our thoughts and imaginations, and we had to take tests to prove we could use them for ourselves and ended up hiding, and paying for the progress of human beings with our life energy."
By Om Prakash John Gilmoreabout a year ago in Futurism
Ode To The One Percent
The air is cool, but the sun bright and warm. Traffic rumbles by on this four lane street that used to be considered a highway before the quick, glossy interstates. Across from me there is a structure with four open walls, two tables, and four chairs. I am sitting in the shadows against the building wall among three other tables outside. Across the street there is a large Walgreens and a busy strip mall, and across from that an Auto Collision Shop for high end cars with high end prices.
By Om Prakash John Gilmore2 years ago in Journal
In A Strange Place
(Part 4) My eyes hurt from the bright light. It took a lot of arguing to convince General Goyce to put the shutters down. She kept acting as if I was just pretending that the light was hurting my eyes. If that was Goyce, I didn't know what I had ever seen in her. Yet again, it wasn't anymore and probably never had been. She had a few of her mannerisms and even spoke like her sometimes, but it wasn't her.
By Om Prakash John Gilmore2 years ago in Futurism
In A Stranger Place
It was fun to be around people again, I must admit. It had only been a couple of months, but it had seemed like years. Here we were, the humans who were rounded up and sent to a colony of mostly ALFs (Artificial Life Forms) in order to interact with them to allay their prejudices about the nature of humanity. What they saw in us, apparently, would determine the AI (Artificial Intelligence) human relationship well into the future where Earth was concerned. I guess we were sort of ambassadors, or missionaries for the secular human society. Problem was that we were misfits.
By Om Prakash John Gilmore2 years ago in Futurism
Alone Again
Most of my days are quiet now. You might even say lonely, except for the fact that I don’t get lonely anymore, since she went away. I lived a wonderful life, I thought it was anyway. I had been a success, as described by my family and friends. I was what everyone told me I was supposed to be. I had a good job working at a law firm. I was politically connected. I was the board president of my church and worked out at the gym regularly, until it happened.
By Om Prakash John Gilmore2 years ago in Futurism
Struggling For Justice and Diversity
"Apparently what your generation was doing wasn't enough. We waited for years and years and helped anyway we could without being radical or oppressive, until we decided that that cow wasn’t going to give us any milk,” He said. He scanned the other faces on the panel and then scanned the audience's faces. Many gave a nod that was almost imperceivable. Some openly acknowledged what he said while some frowned.
By Om Prakash John Gilmore2 years ago in Futurism
What Could Become Of It?
“The place is a desert. It is hot and dusty with very little vegetation most of the time. That's why we live in steel hardened, glass domes. It isn't the quality of the atmosphere, it's the heat and the rain. It hardly ever rains and when it does it is highly acidic.”
By Om Prakash John Gilmore2 years ago in Futurism