Destiny

My fate was to become an author. See books by Robert Fenton Gary on Amazon. A few are pretty good. My book on Omar Khayyam is the result of 37 years of research, in several countries England, USA, Iran. My patent has not been bought but the invention it describes is being used. See US 10,176,661 B2 and it’s online. Anyhow, XYZ’s do not read books. They just want apps for their smartphones. Books are out the window. My income as an author/bookseller is out the window, and I take no pleasure in seeing 100 million Americans collapsing and seeking ways to leave USA. Maybe one of them is going to Spain, France, or Italy. I have no Spanish but I speak French and Italian. And in world of illiterates, the author is out of work. I used to be a poetry reader. Lost that job too. Worked at Cage Basement in the Village. AI is Non-I. It is a gimmick that used encyclopedic lookup to formulate a response to your input that is so “relevant” it appears to be somebody talking to you. But it’s a chip and a Data Center talking to you. You are actually talking to nobody. I have 7 readers, so almost am talking to nobody too. I should have written spy novels, or romance novels. I should have got a piece of land, a wife, and some gold ingots. Shuda Cudda Woodah. I could lose my shelter, food, and income. The VA is swamped with people like me. So, one collapses. It’s life that kills ya. Nobody seeks to harm me. At 80, time is my assassin. My battle axe has no effect on time, or I would have chopped off its arms and legs by now. Maybe some woman wants a companion. I would follow her home like a little dog, woof woof. My resume is on the web at “Bio of Robert Fenton Gary” — a very happy story until the last few years, when books went out the window.