If you want a picture of the future, imagine a putrid blob oozing sludge on a human face—for ever.
The following images are related to chapter 88 of my ongoing novel We’re Fucked.
I have posted many other entries with generated images. Check them out.
“The overhead lights shine on the firearm’s thick barrel, that begs to be fondled.”
“I anticipate the wave of ecstasy that will course through my nervous system as the bullet shoots off, slicing through the air like a tiny comet, to inaugurate the great purge of all things gross.”
“The six chambers are filled with greenish-yellow bullets designed for optimal penetration, and the percussion cap of each one bears the mark of the horseman along with his motto in golden lettering: ‘To end everything so that it can begin anew.'”
“I picture my equine companion during our last hunt near the city of Cologne back in 1745, when we chased a white-tailed deer as it bolted in the moonlight across a dark road.”
“I imagine myself sucking the bullet in through my nose to figure out what a vacuum cleaner feels like.”
“I should squeeze the trigger and blow away that mucus-spewing blancmange before my sanity dissolves like an ice cube on the tongue of a polar bear.” The AI saw the chance to render a polar bear shooting a gun, for which I’m grateful.
“What have you achieved in your pitiful life besides spreading putridity?”
“The cops taught me how to load and fire guns during a summer camp for disturbed children.”
“I went shooting in a deserted lot near my apartment to vent my wrath upon vermin and scavenging crows.”
“One day the government would organize a giant database to contain the fingerprints, retinal scans, DNA sequences, medical records, financial data, and online browsing habits of every man, woman, and child.”
“If they couldn’t confiscate your privacy through legal channels, they would manufacture emergencies as pretexts for suspending constitutional rights.”
“They intend to create a panopticon society in which people’s behavior is monitored from every street corner and every shop front, from inside every home.”
“They would come in the night while we slept: jackbooted thugs in black riot gear would smash down our doors, storm our homes, then drag us from our beds while we kicked and screamed and pissed ourselves.”
“Healthy girls would be bred.”
“The rest of the captives, the lucky ones, would be given numbered jumpsuits and put to work in assembly lines under the supervision of armed guards.”
“I have the right to defend myself against tyrants, so I have kept this revolver close at hand for decades, and I will shoot any creature or inanimate object that could harbor hostile intent toward me or my loved ones.”
“I have always fantasized about taking vengeance and inflicting maximum torment.”
“I feel that such a sacrifice might liberate the demonic energy that rages within me like a wildfire.”
“I long for the freedom and catharsis of destruction.”
“The blob’s dozens of eyeballs glow like those of a frog that has swallowed a lit matchstick.”
“I must stink like a pungent blend of sour milk and sweaty gym socks.”
“You’re a shapeless pimple that needs to be squeezed dry.”
“It pours through me in waves, this violent longing for carnage and debauchery, a mélange uniquely mine, the product of being both a masochist and a fetishist.”
“Someone this slippery and revolting must be as inescapable as the heat death of the universe.”
“Even when I go for a walk on the beach, I feel like punching someone or hurling garbage at other beachgoers.”
“I would blast you with a nuclear bomb if I could.”
The Domains of the Emperor Owl 
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