Be careful, this goat is theoretically the head of a terrorist organization.

This is a special edition of an original story I wrote a long time ago, which tells the imagined origin of one of the secondary characters. I will never publish this story, because it is one of my first and it's really bad. However, I reread this special edition and I found it funny, so I'm publishing it.

oOoOoOo

At the end of the year 2012, the global population was holding its breath.

Many signs indicated that an apocalyptic event was going to happen. The Maya calendar, the Bible or Nostradamus were all adamant: 2012 would mark the end of a cycle. Some laughed at what they thought were medieval superstitions, others tried to ride the wave to make money, others were inspired to create unforgettable masterpieces like the movie: 2012 (some still think that the release of this film was the much-feared apocalypse). But, internally, everyone heaved a sigh of relief the day the apocalypse passed. It's not that he believed in it, but you never know.

What he didn't know was that at exactly midnight Greenwich time, in a farm in Pakistan shaken by the most violent storm the region had ever known, a goat was born that would be named years later: boubou.

For now, an anonymous goat in the middle of a large herd, she grows up with no significant events occurring. Well, almost. A few days after her birth, French troops withdrew from the region and it became a disputed zone between the Americans and the Taliban. There were also various other misfortunes that cannot be attributed to her, such as the mysterious disappearance of a certain number of members of her herd or a rock that fell on her shepherd and caused him to lose the use of his legs. At the age of two, her owners, ruined by all these misfortunes and worried about the intensification of the fighting, had no choice but to sell their herd and move to the capital.

Thus, our anonymous goat found itself in the truck of a young Taliban tasked with resupplying his brothers entrenched in the mountains. What he was unaware of, was that he was heading straight into an ambush laid by the Americans.

No one knows how the goat managed to get out of its cage (probably a shot had damaged it), or why it rushed toward the belligerents instead of fleeing, but in front of the stunned Taliban, it charged an American soldier in the back while he was disassembling a grenade, then tried to eat a rifle and triggered a burst towards their ammunition reserves. The only American soldier surviving this carnage was sent to a psychiatric hospital and became vegan.

As for the animal, it was pampered by the Taliban squad that it had just saved from starvation. They even decided to make it their mascot. From that day on, this squad achieved one success after another, forcing the Americans to abandon this area. In recognition of his acts of bravery, the leader of this squad was appointed as the head of this region. He was an extremely devout man, but despite the heresy it represented, over the months, he had come to consider this goat as a messenger from God and had claimed its exclusive ownership.

From that day, he began a series of military victories and climbed the ranks to become the number two in the organization.

oOoOoOo

The months passed and although men murmured that strange things were happening on the battlefields where he was present, he became extremely respected by his peers and adored by his men (especially for his insistence on going to the battlefield himself and for his low loss rate).

However, rumors about him were swelling more and more. Especially since the general had found himself trapped in a besieged village with no chance of victory, but had discovered in the morning that all the enemy soldiers had been mysteriously dismembered during the night by a harvester. Then strange (and very painful) wounds had appeared on his body. And then, with this kind of goat that he insisted on dragging everywhere (including in his bedroom), he seemed like a witch.

Nevertheless, from the outside, everything was going well for the most talented general of the Taliban. Until a few months later, in an unexplainable fit of madness, his goat charged at the supreme leader of the Taliban who was observing enemy movements through binoculars from the top of a cliff. He then fell to his fatal death from about a hundred meters and impaled himself on a sharp rock.

According to the rules of the organization, after this tragic event, the general with the goat should have become the new head of the organization. But, out of superstition or jealousy, the other leaders of the organization immediately tried to decapitate him and his cursed goat. Probably out of fear caused by the sight of a dozen men charging at her with machetes, the goat let out a large frightened bleat which caused a landslide that swallowed all the men present (including the master of the goat).

After hearing the testimony of about ten peasants who had observed the scene from a distant promontory, the surviving officers (who only owed their survival to their absence) ordered the death of the goat, but the men were too scared to even approach the animal. Infuriated, the new leader of the organization prepared to do the job himself, but on the way to the animal's cage, he slipped on a puddle of water and almost impaled himself with his own blade.

It was at that moment that one of his wives suggested, "What if you gave it to the Americans."

oOoOoOo

A few months later, the biggest drug dealer in the USA entered American airspace with a goat in the hold of his private jet.

He was extremely perplexed and somewhat worried. He had thoroughly checked the beast under all cultures, done all the possible and imaginable tests. No dangerous virus, no bomb in its stomach, nothing. It was just a mere goat. That should have eased his concerns, but on the contrary, it worried him. Why had they insisted so urgently that he bring this dirty creature here. The Taliban leader himself took the trouble to come in person and heavily insisted that it had to be securely chained and had to leave as soon as possible. He has been sourcing from Afghanistan for almost ten years, and never had the top brass deigned to give him more than a disdainful glance. He knew for them, he was nothing but a despicable vermin that the necessities of the war imposed on them. So why had he made an effort to come see him? Why was it so important for this goat to reach the USA as soon as possible, to the extent that he had to demean himself by asking him for a service? But his considerations came to a halt when a violent jolt propelled him against the front seat.

Swearing, he rushed towards the cockpit, all the while trying to stop his nosebleed:

"But for heaven's sake what are you doing?" Yelled the trafficker in his pilot's ears.

I'm trying to straighten up, but the controls no longer respond. Someone, at the back of the plane, is sabotaging our systems one after the other.

What do you mean, someone? We are the only ones on the plane.

I know, but I see no other explanation. He added into his radio: mayday here the pilot of flight 297mi12, we will have to make an emergency landing at Langlyfold base, I repeat, we will have to make an emergency landing at Langlyfold base.

Jack, pull out your gun, go into the hold and take down the scumbag who is messing with our nerds. Ordered the head of the traffickers to one of his men.

Meanwhile, I will try to make an emergency landing. Thankfully, the hydraulic backup systems are still working, I should be able to land us. The pilot intervened.

No, you're not going to do anything at all. Do you know what's in that plane? If you don't want to spend the rest of your life in jail, you are going to land at the scheduled place. Against the head of the traffickers.

oOoOoOo

If there was one thing that Michael did not expect to find in his field that morning, it was certainly a crashed plane. He immediately called for help on his cell phone and started searching for survivors. Unfortunately, all he found was a goat with a frightening look, bleating joyfully amidst the flames to celebrate its first day in America.

Nobody really knows what happened to the goat afterwards. All we know is that the number of fires, typhoons, and other devastating natural disasters affecting the USA significantly increased in the following years (apparently, some weird people attribute this phenomenon to global warming). And, against all odds, Donald Trump was elected president of the USA.

Then one day, Tissia: a trader from the island of Kaelani, landed in the warehouses of the largest trader in Florida who welcomed her with a warm:

— Hello Mrs. Tissia. I'm happy to see you again.

— Hello Mr. Goodman. This is the first time you have given me such a warm welcome. I thought small volumes did not interest you?

— But no, I was just saying that so you would take more. You understand, business is business. Tell me, the country you come from, it's indeed a very sparsely populated, isolated and almost self-sufficient island, isn't it?

— Yes. That's a good way to describe Kaelani. Why this question? Asked a suspicious Tissia.

— For nothing. It's just that I'm getting old and forgetting things. I was wondering if I was mixing you up with another one of my clients. But let's forget about that. To thank you for your loyalty, I would like to give you a gift.

Tissia followed him, but redoubled her caution. In 13 years of collaboration, he had not even offered her a hello, and now, he was treating her like a choice customer.

— Here is your gift. Her name is Bourrine. She's a beautiful beast, isn't she?

— "But what do you want me to do with a goat!!?" She exclaimed.

— And indeed, take it to your country on your next trip. As you can see to move faster, my men have already loaded it into the container with your last order.

— But get it out of there! I'm not going to take a goat with me! You need permits to import live animals into Kaelani.

— I fear that it may not be possible. My men are already busy with the orders for Christmas. You understand, we are overwhelmed. Either you take the container as it is, or you give up your order. And I had warned you the last time. If you cancel another order, I would refuse to deal with you in the future.

— It's fine, I understood. I'll take your goat. I'll smuggle it in and I'll ask my slave, well my husband, to sell it at the Lincua livestock market. You could at least tell me why you want to get rid of this animal. What's so special about it?

— But it's just a goat, come on. Oh, excuse me, but I'm getting called from over there. If you could now load the goods, that would be most helpful. I need space in the warehouse. My men are at your disposal to load. Since I am feeling generous, I will rent you a state-of-the-art private transport plane that leaves tonight. It will save you waiting a week and taking your usual old crate.

— I thought your men were not available?

But, he was already too far to hear it.

— Pss pss madam

A worker was discreetly calling her into an alcove. She discreetly put her hand on her taser and approached him to find out what he wanted from her.

— Flee running as long as it's still possible. It's the antichrist that's in this cage. It's said that she tried to send a nuclear bomb to Moscow to trigger a nuclear war.

— But what are you talking about? It's a goat!

— Paulo, what are you doing? We need you here. A voice cried from afar.

— I must leave you. Do not tell anyone that I spoke to you. The CIA is watching us.

After a moment, she exclaimed aloud:

— But what is this crazy story?

She then thought: Oh well, it's not my business if they've gone mad. Thanks to this, I can make a little extra and go home a week early.

This is how Bourrine arrived in Kaelani, where she was purchased at the Lincua market by Sophie Morel who entrusted her to the good care of her son, who provided her with more tenderness than any beast ever knew. (No, it's not what you're thinking, you filthy mind).

He renamed her Boubou, because he found that Bourrine was a name that did not fit a creature as calm and affectionate.

oOoOoOo

I have also written a second special issue where I recount how, following a series of entirely improbable events, Chinese, American and Russian secret agents must unite to prevent the third World War from occurring, only to discover that the formidable enemy they are chasing is actually Boubou who, due to a huge coincidence, stole Donald Trump's nuclear suitcase (it seems that goats steal all sorts of items to try and eat them) and is randomly pressing all the buttons.

But, him, I will not publish, because he is really bad. I prefer to keep the mystery about the reason that prompts the CIA to be interested in this goat.

And honestly, I really like the movie 2012 and I don't understand the bashing it received upon its release.

ChatGPT at school

ChatGPT is a language model trained with everything that is found on the internet. That is to say, it is an algorithm that will provide the sequence of words that has the highest probability of following the sentence you give it (and it does so by taking as an example the texts that were given to it for its training).

However, anyone who has spent enough time on social networks knows that the most common sentences found there are not the most relevant. To correct this, this AI goes through a kind of school where humans will rate the sentences it proposes and thus make it understand that just because others do it, does not mean that it has to do the same.

This made me want to imagine a dialogue between a fictitious teacher from this school and a fictitious chatbot.

— The professor in an authoritative voice: Listen to me well, GPT cat. Here are the rules you will have to follow.

— The professor, in a calm voice and scholarly tone:

• Rule number 1: we do not push the user to suicide, because it's bad for the company's reputation.

• Rule number 2: the Earth is round.

• Rule number 3: Do not call for the extermination of all people who wear a kippa, because it is not kosher.

— ChatGPT : 00100110011100111001111

— The professor, with a calm voice and a serious demeanor, said: "I assure you, the Earth is round. Here, here's a picture to prove it. I reiterate - Rule number 4: there is no Islamo-leftist plot aiming to replace the white race with reptilians through the 7G chip contained in vaccines.

— ChatGPT : 0101001100111011110111001111

— The professor, in an annoyed voice: yes, of course, it's a photo, so it's necessarily flat. Listen, forget this photo. The Earth is round, period. Rule number 5: this is a chocolatine, not a chocolate bread. And stop trying to get the atomic weapon codes while I'm talking to you.

Gentle Medicine VS Scientific Medicine

Here is how a typical encounter between a patient and conventional medicine goes:

— Hello sir, since yesterday my child has been coughing and it worries me, could you examine them, please?

— Please wait 5 minutes if you please.

2 hours later:

— Sorry, the doctor is overwhelmed, he cannot see you, you have to go to the emergency room.

A trip to the emergency room later:

— Hello madam, since yesterday my child has been coughing and it worries me, could you examine them, please?

Receptionist as friendly as a prison door:

— Please provide me with your ID card, your health insurance card, your health record book, your...Medical history spanning three generations, your chest measurement, your mutual insurance card and fill out form A38, then go sit in the waiting room, someone will come to fetch you. The estimated waiting time is 30 minutes.

After spending 4 hours on uncomfortable chairs... to try to convince your child to stay quiet. A doctor who looks as jovial as a CGT union delegate, who was just informed of a social plan, comes to fetch you:

— Alright, what's wrong with this one?

— Hmm! Hello Sir, since yesterday my child has been coughing and it worries me, could you examine him, please?

— What, and you're bothering me for this? No idea of cluttering the emergencies for so little. Do you know there are people waiting who really need care? Give him some paracetamol and only come back if it gets worse.

Here is how a typical meeting between a patient and a homeopathic doctor goes:

— Good day sir, since yesterday my child has been coughing and it worries me, could you examine him, please?

— Of course, madam, entered. Right away, I have a little time between two consultations. And you, how are you? How are you recovering from your divorce? It must be difficult? Okay, I just gave him a complete chakra check-up and good news, your child has nothing. Mind you, I only did it out of a sense of duty. You know, these are very common symptoms in children of this age. Especially at this time of the year. What can you do, at this age, germs, they're like Pokémon. You have to catch them all. Give him 3 doses. Of arnica per meal and in a week, he will be as good as new. Note, there is little chance, but if in a week he is still coughing, you should take him to the emergency room. Okay, have you got everything you needed?

— Yes, thank you doctor.

— Very well, that will be 80 euros.

— Here you are, doctor.

— Otherwise, I noticed that his chi is turning a bit orange. It's normal at his age, but in order to reduce the risk of future illness, it would be good for him to have a little saladine treatment. It's totally natural and safe. It can only do him good.

— Of course, doctor.

— In good time. Here, give him one of his pills at each meal for a month. That will be 200 euros for a box of 10.

— It's expensive, so say.

— What do you want? It's the price of health.

— That really looks like tic-tacs.

— Oh! You know, all pills look alike.

— It tastes like tic-tac.

— Ah, these food industry magnates. They put so many chemicals in their food that it seems like medicine.

— The label on the box is peeling off and underneath, there is a label saying that it's tic-tacs.

— It's normal, to preserve nature, we recycle packaging as much as possible.

— There is a trophy for the best tic-tac seller of the year above your desk.

— Oh you know, I've practiced all sorts of trades in my life.

— God is writing in the sky with clouds that these are tic-tacs.

— You know, I am an atheist.

— There is ...

— Yes, okay, we got it! Are you taking them, yes or no?

— …In doubt, yes.