Retcon

Retcon

verb 

• revise (an aspect of a fictional work) retrospectively, typically by introducing a piece of new information that imposes a different interpretation on previously described events. 

"I think fans get more upset when characters act blatantly out of established type, or when things get retconned"

I've looked back through my younger self. The dusty pages. The forgotten emails. The long dead texts. 

I found that they tell a story. A story sometimes sad. But sometimes filled with joy and love. But it is a story, it is my story. It's relatable to some, funny to others. But it's mine. I checked the copyright and that is my name on it.

There are so many parts of it I'd love to change. Just grab the eraser and rewrite it to make it glorious and noble. You all know what I mean. Just delete the things that I've said. Forget the things that I've done. Find like minded people to help me with the fiction. Or just mist over the facts to new people so that they believe a new story. 

Sometimes I call this Facebooking, Twittering for Twitiots. I don't go in for it. But I can see the appeal. But my people, the memory of them would be ill served to follow it. 

The species of people that I call the fake ones or Retcons as they've come to be called today. Have existed a very long time. But they were always recognizable. If not a little difficult at first. But in the electronic age they've risen up. But in doing so they are more easily recognized. They delete. They reinvent. Simply put they Retcon. 

The problem is they multiply. They're not all bad people. A lot of you reading this are Retcon and some of the nicest people I know. But I miss my people. I miss knowing that I am among people who have not been rewritten at will. Spending time deleting what they now want to hide.

Among them as well as in myself there was always the good, the bad, the sad, and noble. But among us you could always count on what you knew yesterday to still be there today. There were the ones among us who strived to be better. Building on what we were to push towards where we dreamed to go.

Among us you would never find deletions, removals, the Retcons. In the villages, and towns, neighborhoods and homes. Within the families, relationships, and me. We fought to apologize, to explain, and those among us fought to listen, to understand, to accept. But never by deleting who we were or are. 

It was said by one of our more notable "Those who forget history are doomed to repeat it." 

It was said to a Retcon. It was a reminder to the Real. Because being Real is as much a choice as it is DNA. The Retcon were smaller in number. But in the electronic age they grew. Seducing and supplanting more and more of the Real. After all the best way to become your dream is to just say that you are. Survival of the fittest. After all homosapien wasn't the only race of humans on the planet. 

Not all Retcons are bad. Much like not all Real are good. But I miss my people. I need my people. I need their solid ground in this time to know where I'm standing. I need to wake up where I fell to sleep. I need a place to rest that will be the same place when I am healed. The problem with the Retcons is that they shift without journey. You'll find yourself leaning on them. Then with the stroke of a key or an eraser, they're gone. With the change of a line or history they claim to be something else. Even worse they claim you to be something else that was never written. 

So exciting at times to see the transformation. Sometimes so much fun to guess the next transmutation. But also sometimes so painful to lose what you thought would stay. You will never understand that. You will never know why I miss my people so much. 

A Retcon  can always be found in their deletions, re-readings, reboots. But before their social media's they where much harder to spot and less in number. So many in number now, do you even remember us? The Real? I would imagine some of you do. As you dance in your campfires wearing our skin. Telling your stories of the people, the people who did not delete. The good and bad boogie men. The Real 

I said to a Retcon once. "Sit beside me. Let me tell you a story." Only to find that they had decided to be someone else at that moment. 

I was left to tell my story to myself. 

When I was born my father taught me things. My mother showed the example. I knew of both worlds. But yours is fickle and flighty. Both good and bad people among you but still... It is not good to be away from your people for too long. And even worse I seem to be the last of my kind. 

The last of the Real. 

A natural born Human...

~~~~~~ 

I confessed myself to a Retcon. Really not much worse than I've done writing here to you good and bad people. And they did exactly what Retcons do. They changed. In the blink of an eye. Without journey, without remorse, without second thought. I've seen it before even from them. I wasn't surprised. 

But this time I wasn't hurt. Only disappointed. Maybe I'm healed. Time will tell. Till then I will sit, stranger in this town square and tell my stories to me.

After all I used to write to people all the time. A way to show how I cared. A way to connect... 

Now where is that pen......