A Note for The Archeologist That Finds My Remains in 5239 A.D.

Hey, how’s it going?

My name is Brian. Well, it was Brian. You’re probably referring to me as a specimen with a number and that’s cool. I had to do the same thing with humans that died long before me in college. One time, I think scholars gave a dead pre-human discovery a nickname though. She was an Australopithecus Afarensies, but everyone just called her Lucy. So, if you guys go around calling me Homo Sapien #378, don’t be afraid to just call me “Brian.” Or “Tunney,” which was my surname, and how most people referred to me. Just don’t call me Lucy. I know my male sex organs have long since decomposed, but I can assure you, I was a male. And I had a beard too. If you doubt my word though, check out the subpubic angle of my sciatic notch. It’s definitely lower than 68 degrees. And direct evidence of my maleness all the way baby.

I bet you’re wondering about my life, so I’ll get right down to brass tacks. For the most part, I occupied myself by riding bikes and doing stunts on them. For work, I did a lot of writing about bikes for a magazine. And on the side, I did a lot of writing about whatever was on my mind. Most of the time, it was to occupy the few hours each night when I imbibed alcohol. I know what you’re thinking. How could alcohol influence someone’s thoughts? Well, in my time, the human liver took much longer to process alcohol than I’m assuming your evolved liver does. The affects of this inability to process alcohol included euphoria, relaxation and cheerfulness. It also made writing kinda flow a lot easier. I wonder what you guys in 5239 are using to coax the creative side out of yourselves? Actually, I don’t wonder anymore cause I’m but a memory. I imagine you’re very tall with a huge liver though. Unless the atmosphere has proven to be inhospitable and you’ve since moved to underground dwelling, in which case I’m lead to believe that you’re shrinking on account of increased underground pressure.

So anyways, I wrote about things like bikes and music for a living. Some of it got printed on paper (which has long since returned to the soil) and the other pieces were kept on the Internet, which I’m not sure if you guys still have. You see, around the year 2000, this thing called the Internet got really popular, and humans flooded it with digital information of every type. Pretty soon, it got crowded to the point that human’s attention spans were adversely affected. I’m not sure how long the information overload went on for, but I’m assuming it had a dire end. And I’m assuming most of the places where this information was stored couldn’t survive thousands of years. Wanna know why? We stored information on things called hard drives, which were basically made out of plastic, a material invented in the 19th century. It was synthetic, and it was so new during my lifetime that humanity didn’t know how it broke down. The effects, of course, was a lot of plastic strewn about the Earth, some of which I’m sure you’re still finding and scratching your head about. Yup, humans during my time didn’t think too much through. We even invented weapons that would destroy the Earth. Well, not me, but other humans that weren’t too rational in their endless drive to make the world a more volatile place. I’ll stop now, the cynical side of me isn’t something I want to be remembered and studied for.

So, I bet you’re looking at my bones and are wondering what the hell all the arthritic scarring is from. It’s that damn bike I used to ride so much. After over twenty years of riding, it sorta took its toll on my knees, shoulders and wrists. Not to mention my back and pelvic crest (which was broken once.) No epidemics and no shortage of food to speak of here. It was a simple past time which took its toll on my body, if you can believe that. Oh, and in case you’re examining my teeth and thinking to yourself that my lack of sharp teeth points to a herbivorous diet, you’re right. Most humans during my time did eat flesh, but I made a decision at the age of 19 to stop. If the Internet was still around, you could read about the debate, but like I said earlier, I heavily doubt it. In regards to the debate though, to each his own, I say. But I am curious about one thing. Typical carnivores have claws, sharp teeth and short digestive systems. Humans during my time seemed to be evolving away from that. We still had finger nails, and we still found uses for them, but they weren’t sharp. We also had nails on our toes which were completely obsolete, except that females painted them for decoration. Once upon a time, I had told my girlfriend that I figured the obsolete claws on our feet would be the next part of the body to disappear as a result of natural selection, and I was curious to see if my theory was actually right. So, take a look at your foot. If there is no buildup of a hard protein called keratin at the end of your toes, do me a favor and look towards the sky and maybe just maybe mumble the words, “You were right Brian.” The question has been bothering me for eternity.

I should be going now; it’s almost time to die. But I wanna end this on a high note. I had a good life. I lived, I loved and I hopefully did some kinda good in the world. So if my skeleton is up to the task, clean me up and put me on display somewhere. When I lived, I was terrified of being in front of other people, but now that I’m just an archeological discovery, I think I’d make one hell of an exhibit. You can even put a cigar in my hand or dress me in a funny outfit. I won’t complain; I promise. But be careful with my right patella, it’s been dislocated a few times.

Thanks for your time,
Brian Tunney

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