Body parts in 30 minutes or your organs free.

So, I’ve been finishing up the Gotham Killfiles, the story that will forever go up on the shelf until I’m rich and powerful. I needed to write Killfiles because it was pushing on my frontal cortex until I just got it out of the way. I’m waiting on some research books to be delivered and stumbled across a couple of concepts that made me think of a new IP.

The first idea came from China, where they’ve decided, in the interest of efficiency, to create buses which roam the vast China lands performing state executions. They’ve forty of these buses. They harvest the organs, because that’s legal in China. Hell, it’s a growth industry.

All your organs belong to Usszzss
I knew this was going to harm my brain. There’s nothing inherently wrong with executions - we got 6.6 billion people and a few more dead wont really make an impact. I’m looking at the long term here, of course. By executing those deemed culturally offensive, we will cull the society challenging by reinforcing the gene and meme pool that supports the monolithic governments. The only choice would be to drop out of that society (”go underground”) or to establish a mimicry survival trait.

This Darwinistic cultural war will give rise to subcultures competing for memetic resources, that is to say, people. What kind of laws would make it necessary to allow for

Don’t click on me
And humans became a demonstrably provable viral medium this week. In Twitter, the “DON’T CLICK” url caused many twitters to propagate itself. Humans, by seeing a “Don’t Click” immediately clicked. And pending on the circumstances, then spread the virus itself. Lots of people have willingly participated viral bombs, but this was a pure infologic transmission that used our infovore brains against us.

And then I found Buck Angel, which is a transman with a porn agenda.

The intersection of these events will become The Organ Grinders, a tale of black markets, after market parts and pieces, and a disturbing poke in the eye… but we’ll see. All I know is I’ve got pages of notes and ideas that are bugging the shit out of me on a St. Valentine’s Night.