Donald Trump Hears of Dr. Faustus Imhotep

March 29, 2018 at 10:45 pm (Geopolitics and International Relations, International Intrigue, Science-Fiction, Technology, Vampire novel) (, , , , , , , , , , , )

Donald Trump Hears of Dr. Faustus Imhotep

“Who’s the leading scientist at DARPA?” Donald Trump asked one of his leading advisors.

“That would be Dr. Faustus Imhotep,” his advisor replied.

“Dr. Faustus Imhotep?” Trump’s hair stood on end, “That’s an unusual name.”

“He’s a German Egyptian,” his advisor replied.

“A German Egyptian?” Trump pasted his hair back down with hair gel, “He isn’t a Muslim is he?”.

“I believe he’s a worshipper of the coming AI god whom he calls Diablotron,” his advisor answered.

“Diablotron?” Trump’s hair stood on end again, “I’ve never heard of him.”

“He’s the god of the future Singularity according to Dr. Faustus Imhotep,” his advisor said.

“What’s Dr. Faustus Imhotep a doctor of?” Trump asked, “The reason I ask is I’ve had this major pain in my ass the past few days…”

“The world has had a major pain in the ass since January 20th of last year,” Trump’s English valet Lexington remarked as he put some Black Forest ham sandwiches and other snacks down on Trump’s desk.

“Really?” Trump used a piece of sliced baloney to pat his hair back down, “I hadn’t heard about that.”

“Dr. Faustus Imhotep has both a Ph.D in Physics and a Ph.D in Biochemistry from Cambridge University to answer your question,” the aide answered Trump’s question.

“Weren’t you telling me, Lexington, that the world famous London dominatrix Sherrielock Holmes studied both Literature and Theology at Cambridge University?” Trump asked as he ate the very oily and greasy piece of baloney he held in his hands.

“That is correct, sir,” Lexington poured coffee ☕️.

“So,” Trump put Coffee Mate in his coffee, “what is this DARPA scientist Dr. Faustus Imhotep currently working on?”.

“He’s making a female genetic clone of the DARPA contract assassin and world famous serial killer Pan Goatee,” his aide replied.

“Good God,” Trump spit out his coffee and sprayed it all over his aide’s face, “I hope she isn’t going to kill ugly looking men the way Pan Goatee kills ugly looking women.”

Trump was wondering whether he should change his hair colouring in lieu of this shocking tidbit of information.

“I don’t believe so, sir,” the aide gratefully accepted a towel from Lexington to wipe his face, “Dr. Faustus Imhotep has said he’s eliminated obsessive belief in the aesthetic theories of Oscar Wilde and Friedrich Nietzsche from her intellectual make-up so she won’t go into a homicidal rage every time she sees an ugly person.”

“That’s wonderful to hear,” Trump tweeted People don’t spray people, Coffee sprays people on his Twitter account, “so I don’t have to change my hair colouring.”

“Pope Francis has said that there is no Hell but there will still be Hell toupee then,” Lexington remarked.

“No Hell?” Trump looked shocked, “Then where will I be able to tell people to go?”.

“I’m sure you’ll think of something, sir,” Lexington yawned.

“What’s Dr. Faustus Imhotep going to call this genetically cloned twin sister of Pan Goatee?” Trump asked.

“Panty Goatee,” his aide replied.

“And whose panties will she be wearing?” Trump asked as he took another sip of coffee.

“She was given a 1000 pairs by Stormy Daniels,” his aide answered.

Trump spit out coffee in his aide’s face again.

-A vampire novel chapter
written by Christopher
Thursday March 29th

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Is AI (Artificial Intelligence) A Threat To Humanity? – A News Bulletin

January 28, 2015 at 8:04 pm (Commentary, News, Quotations and Sayings of Dracul Van Helsing, Satire, Science, Technology) (, , , )

Is AI (Artificial Intelligence) A Threat To Humanity? – A News Bulletin

Radio news announcer: In a statement released today, Microsoft said that “Artificial Intelligence will not kill us.”
This bulletin just in… Microsoft owner Bill Gates has been found strangled by his robot butler after Gates refused to grant the robotic valet a night off for a date with a robotic lookalike of Shakira…

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Cosmopolis 2029 A.D.

February 12, 2011 at 10:15 pm (Short Story) (, , , )

Cosmopolis 2029 A.D.

Earth’s greatest metropolis.

Where the holographic image ads reached the sky.

And the sides of the tallest skyscrapers served as the planet’s most expensive billboards.

Where people flew in their aeromobiles anytime of day or night.

The number of people killed in aeromobile crashes so far this year: 4.

Still a lot better than the days 20 years ago when people were killed driving their own ground-based automobiles.

For all the jokes about computer malfunctions, the computers drove aeromobiles better than erratic human drivers with their various neuroses and emotional outbursts in the days of petroleum driven ground transportation.

The Singularity was a triumph as far as traffic safety went.

You just told the computer where you wanted to go and taking note of where you are, it flew you there in the most direct and safest possible manner.

Taking note of all the other aeromobiles out there and flying you there safely.

Travis Albion Private Eye was parked at ground level in his aeromobile.

He looked up at the sky and noticed with amusement as a group of young male teen passengers in their aeromobile flew directly into the low-cut top of the low-cut dress of the woman in the skyhigh holographic beer commercial ad.

“Just another Saturday night,” Travis Albion mused to himself as he smoked his smokeless cigarette- big on flavour and without the smoke and the carcinogens of tobacco products past.

Abion put the bottle of bourbon to his lips and took a deep sip.

How different from his father’s day he thought when one had to worry about being pulled over for being impaired.

Albion directed his attention towards the skies again.

There it was- the Silver Streak Honda Aeromobile.

Moving like a silver streak across the sky just like the ads said.

But was this THE Silver Streak- the one he had been hired to follow?

Albion snapped his fingers and the holographic keyboard appeared in front of him

Albion smiled.

He was glad he got a Mac holographic keyboard.

For even the new Windows 666 holographic keyboard still took 10 seconds to kick in.

Albion typed on the holographic keyboard.

And the image came up on the holographic screen- the image of the Silver Streak’s invisible registration tattoo.


“Gotcha,” Albion smiled.

Albion directed his Volkswagen Super Bug aeromobile’s computer to follow the Silver Streak.

The VW aeromobile soared into the sky at supersonic speed.

“Gotta love that German engineering,” Albion took another sip of his bourbon.

Albion’s VW aeromobile flew past the aeromobile of the star struck nerdy teen-agers he had noticed earlier- the ones who had flown into the low-cut top of the low-cut dress of the woman in the skyhigh holographic beer ad.

Their car was covered in a holographic red coloured substance which they flew into a holographic CLEAN zone to erase.

“Better watch where you’re flying fellas,” Albion laughed as he watched the red holographic substance being erased by the CLEAN zone, “you never know when you’re flying directly into a tampon ad.”

Albion caught up with the Silver Streak which was parked atop the steeple of the Lunar Trade Center.

The male and female passenger were getting it on intensely under the intense moonlight.

“Mr. Philadopolous,” Albion called out to the man.

The man lifted the hood of the aeromobile and stood up to see who was speaking to him.

Albion spoke, “I’ve got an early Valentine’s Day present for you from your wife.”

The private eye pulled out his gun and shot him.

The woman who was with him dove for cover under the thick luxurious Silver Streak seats.

“It’s all right, doll face,” Albion spoke to the woman, “Mrs. Philadopolous didn’t really have a message for you other than you might want to direct the Silver Streak computer to fly you in and check out the holographic ads for Transmittable Social Disease clinics along 42nd Ave.”

Albion’s VW aeromobile flew off.

He typed in the number of tonight’s kill on his holographic keyboard.


He had 57 kills so far this year.

As a private eye, he was allowed 100 before he could be charged with murder.

Of course the average citizen was only allowed 5 kills a year before they were charged with murder.

Acting on behalf of Mrs. Philadopolous, she now had 1 of 5 potential kills on her record for this year.

She had told Travis Albion that she didn’t really care for her husband.

But Albion kind of figured that wasn’t true as he inhaled his non-existent smoke from his smokeless cigarette and took another sip of bourbon.

You don’t waste 1 out of 5 kills on someone you don’t really feel passionate about.

I guess it’s as they say… Love hurts.

Even here in Cosmopolis.

Even here in the Year 2029.

The VW aeromobile flew off in the direction of the rising moon.

Another night.

And another night’s work done.


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