Title: The Autopen Bull

In the year 2028, science and ceremony fused in a way no one saw coming.

It began on a cool March morning in Geneva, inside the alabaster halls of the Global Scientia Sanctum — a newly established council where scientific leaders convened like a conclave of white-coated cardinals. At the head sat the emeritus Dr. Anthony Fauci, still sharp, still cloaked in his iconic lab coat tailored to resemble papal vestments, now serving as Primus Scitus, the highest authority in the realm of "Ex Cathedra Scientia" — the doctrine asserting certain scientific proclamations as infallible when issued from the Chair of Reason.

Whispers had been circulating. Rumors that a decree was coming. Something about "autopen signatures" — the robotic pen device used to mimic the signatures of overworked officials who could no longer be troubled to sign forms themselves. A trivial matter, perhaps. Or so it seemed.

The auditorium brimmed with anticipation: epidemiologists, physicists, economists-turned-virologists, and one former reality TV star who now hosted a vaccine mythbusting podcast. They waited.

Fauci rose.

He ascended the marble steps to the Lectern of Logos, looked out over the assembly, and unfurled a scroll made from recycled peer-reviewed journals. A hush fell.

"In the name of Replicability, Reproducibility, and Rationality," he intoned, "I proclaim ex cathedra scientia: autopen signatures, when produced with adequate biometric fidelity and bureaucratic intent, shall be considered epistemologically and institutionally valid."

There was a beat of silence. Then pandemonium.

Applause erupted from the Machine-Learning Monks of MIT. The Council of Postdocs in Perpetuity wept openly. Meanwhile, deep within the Office of Paperwork Integrity in Washington D.C., a lone bureaucrat burst into tears of joy — her RSI finally meant something.

Of course, not everyone rejoiced. The Flat Signature Movement, a fringe group of artisanal penmanship purists, staged a protest by hand-writing their grievances in cursive and faxing them to WHO. No one could read them.

Later that evening, a commemorative coin was minted showing Fauci seated upon the Chair of Reason, an autopen device enshrined beside him like a holy relic. Beneath it: “Veritas Per Inkjet.”

And from that day on, no unsigned form could claim ignorance, no rubber-stamped directive lack legitimacy. For the word had been spoken — not just spoken, but inscribed by machine, in the sacred name of science.

And it was good.

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=5728794&forum_id=2\u0026mark_id=5310486#48953437)