Turbo Lister

Turbo Lister


The lines were long. The neon signs garish and eye catching. The process they said was painless and error proof. You bought your ticket and entered a converted movie theatre. Along the walls of the lobby were posters advertising the attractions to be found in the era you wished to visit. The hot spot this season was the twentieth century. People were interested in a rousing, romantic experience filled with abrupt changes in plot propelled by a belief in something greater then themselves. War and the battle of ideologies were themes guaranteed to attract thrill seekers who wanted to lose themselves in the experience.

You had to sign a waiver. The waiver stipulated that you wouldn’t hold the transportation company responsible for unintended consequences relating to your choice of entertainment destination. The invention of the Turbo Lister changed the world. Genetic Engineering, contamination of resources and the upsurge in the development of creative surveillance technologies meant the government now had both the means and justification to control every aspect of life. Political office holders instituted governance by use of statistical gerrymandering which guaranteed them a lifetime tenure. The Turbo Lister allowed you a chance to escape into a simpler, less regimented environment where you could make decisions of real consequence.

After two boxes of Bush Popcorn, a Bush Bar of real imitation chocolate and a Halliburton tray of freeze dried consumables my date and I were finally able to purchase our tickets. Halliburton overcharged for the food of course. We had chosen the Twentieth Century Excursion because we knew little about history. School was all math and science. History as part of the average curriculum was considered superfluous. Skilled workers were needed not humanity geeks.

With the ticket came a plastic suitcase of imitation leather. We each got one. Upon entering the mini theatre concourse we found ourselves on a platform as a train pulled in. The train was billowing black smoke. It was great!

There we were. Facing a huge clanking oil smelling monster. The sounds were unbelievable. People were milling around in a disorganized, uncontrolled manner. Children were crying, couples were kissing. The jostling pandemonium of the crowd added to the excitement and sense of upcoming expectation.

We climbed aboard a passenger car and found to our delight rows and rows of hard wood seats. Sitting on them was a real challenge. People were packed in till there was no room left. You could hardly breathe. The reality of the experience beat any computer game I’ve ever played. This was real. A porter was there dressed in a black uniform. He was pushing people closer together to make more room for the latecomers.

*Where are we headed?* I asked.

*To a place they don‘t teach about in school anymore.* he replied. *Kid, it’s called Auschwitz.*

My date and I nuzzled closer together. She smiled as I kissed her cheek. We were hoping for the experience of our lives.


Scott Malby 2002

Posted over on Zygote In My Coffee

***BIO*** Scott Malby surfs along the Pacific Coast of his mind. He also trolls. There are no roads leading in, only out. You can usually find him hitchhiking in circles around a No Exit sign. He has been featured in a number of print and online journals.