a house at night with a dinosaur looking in a window
distant mountains
carpetted office space
a sparsely leaved desert bush a sparsely leaved desert bush a sparsely leaved desert bush
inside of a very large elevator shaft
dougie's tail viewed from left, at full left of stroke dougie's tail viewed from left, at mid left of stroke dougie's tail viewed from left, at zero left of stroke a picture of left side of dougie swimming thru the air a picture of dougie face fwrd swimming thru the air a picture of right side of dougie swimming thru the air a picture of right side of dougie swimming thru the air a picture of right side of dougie swimming thru the air a picture of right side of dougie swimming thru the air a picture of right side of dougie swimming thru the air a picture of right side of dougie swimming thru the air dougie's tail viewed from right, at full left of stroke dougie's tail viewed from right, at mid left of stroke

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Howdy. I'm Dougie. You probably don't remember me from Issue 1. I was only there momentarily.

I'm here now because NaN and Fred asked me to fill in for them while they are off doing things I don't know about. So don't ask.

I'm happy to help them out, but you should be prepared to be disappointed.

I'm not nearly so clever as those two.

a standing desk

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First,
what with the war and all,
We should go underground. Hang on. How about some familiar scenery then. The lighting isn't the best down here, but we'll be much safer.

Okay now NaN said to start you off with The Long Quiet. But that's mostly just a bunch of computers going whir, scribble scribble, whir, over and over for almost ever. You Shirley are more interested in the very last of your kin.
Thing is, not much from them survived well.

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Most of those late human records were kept digitally, in integrated circuits, or on some sort of plastic substrate. Nearly all that stuff was smithereened shortly after you departed, in the cyber war at the beginning of The Long Quiet (Besides the malware you would expect, early AI systems deployed electro-magnetic pulse devices, and plastic and aluminium eating microbes leftover from your military nastiness.). Other media survived better. Unfortunately, not any of the sanctuaries ever put much down on paper.
This picture, one of my favorite survivors, was painted on a glass window inside the West_On_Pecos sanctuary. I like it because even as it makes me chuckle, it makes me wonder about other extinctions.
Like, what were the last thoughts of dinosaurs, dodos, elephants?

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That West#_#On#_#Pecos sanctuary is an interesting case (They have a great guided tour program too {I've done it four times.}.). It was the only privately operated sanctuary to survive for any length of time. And, incredibly only two people lived inside. I think they were both probably a bit eccentric from the beginning; and by the end I think they were flirting with nuts. One of them, Al_An, irregularly but often broadcast crude drawings like our 'How Come There's A Dino In The Window.' The other one, Alex_Is, sent out daily texts that were, well odd; and they grew odderer over the years. I really hope they were meant to entertain more than inform.
During her/his last year or so, Alex_Is started each daily text the same way:
"Today's traffic report is all clear, everywhere. So go West on Pecos, past where the freeway turns North, past the end of the road, to the second arroyo, follow it Northwest to the jackalope, and follow our fictional buddy to the end. Now for the news . . . "
My take on that is that reality had lost its hold on Alex_Is, and he/she was cool with that. I see further evidence of that by the way Alex_Is signed all those 'traffic report' text messages:
"I magine."