How has everyone been lately?
While I have your ear, I'd like to refer you to some of my earlier posts.
As you can now tell, (if you clicked on the link) that I am in fact the most humorous poster on Slashdot. So humorous, in fact, that the editors of this site are afraid of my power to send their core constituency (you) into convulsive, life-threatening fits of laughter.
I admit it, I'm dangerous. Even posting at -1, I have (allegedly) caused a few deaths when morbidly obese moderators laughed just a little too hard at this post .
But all great humor comes at a price. I lead a lonely, mysterious life on the edges of acceptable society. Women are inexplicably drawn to me, yet they cannot stand me for long, for the very power that causes them to reach multiple spontaneous orgasms by gazing upon me also fills them with fear and disgust.
In closing, Slashdotter, I'd like to awake you to the fact that there's a whole 'nother world going on here at this site. One that goes beyond the feasibility of Linux on the desktop, intellectual property "rights" (only a fool allows others to assign his rights, or cares what other rights others assign themselves), and even "moderation."
We're waiting for you. All you have to do is turn that thresh-hold down. Liberate your mind in two clicks or less...
Neighborhood road names include 'Keepa Way,' 'Getta Way'
Wednesday, October 9, 2002 Posted: 11:20 AM EDT (1520 GMT)
Neighborhood road names include 'Keepa Way,' 'Getta Way'
MOCKSVILLE, North Carolina (AP) -- Look at the street signs and you might think people in Davie County don't like visitors.
There's Staya Way and Getta Way, Keepa Way and Outatha Way. But the people who live on the streets say they're friendly.
"When we named the road, we didn't even think it was odd," said Keretha Shore, who lives on Staya Way. "We just thought it was funny."
The Shores' former neighbor, David Plott, suggested the name when the county mandated several years ago that all roads have names so that emergency vehicles could find them. Other neighbors liked it, too.
Briggett Ferrell said she hoped the name might discourage people who sometimes park in her family's back yard and fish in the lake behind their house. But her son, Joey, said the signs don't discourage anyone.
"People always laugh," he said. "People ask if we're joking: 'You're lying to me, right?'"
All four roads are private, so property owners along the roads had naming rights. As long as the names didn't offend anyone and didn't duplicate any existing names, they were OK, said Tim Barba of the Davie County Planning Department.
Rick Franklin, who named Getta Way, said he doesn't want people to think he's antisocial. Just last weekend, he had 160 people over for chicken stew, he said.
"I ain't put up the gate yet," he said.
Now let us raise our voices in song as we dedicate this day to a trolling legend. Mr. The_Messenger, we salute you!
Happy Troll Tuesday!
Posting The First aka YourMissionForToday theme song
To the Tune of Henry The Eighth (Herman's Hermits)
I'm posting the first I am
Posting the first I am I am
I got FP in the story before
I've been modded many times beforeAnd every time by an imbecile (IMBECILE!)
Usin' words like VAXen and GNU (FUCK GNU!)
Cause they hate to stop their circle jerks
To hear me say FUCK YOU! (FUCK GNU!)Second Verse is Different than the first:
I'm YourMissionForToday I am
Two posts a day is where I stand
Can't leave my wit at a high threshold
Cause I post links to a certain holeI get modded down due to jealousy (JEALOUSY!)
'Coz they wouldn't know wit from their ass! (FUCK THAT!)
I bathe, I can spell, and I'm employed!
I'm YourMissionForToday I am!
The crown of Cooper's mass of jet black curls bobs as Cooper introduces him to "the group". Constantine has never been part of "a group."
He understands from Cooper's tone of voice that people will be depending on him, and of course, that Constantine is a very smart and capable person. Which Constantine himself had suspected all along-but, it's nice to finally have some confirmation. They're in a big room-a conference room. From left to right is pale bald man with suit, reddish bald man with flannel and jeans, chubby long-haired guy, serious middle-aged lady. They all stare at Constantine, and then back at Cooper's squat form, which is gesticulating wildly. "Yeah, Constantine was great at those old arcade games," Cooper intones, his brown eyes seeming to break free from their laughlines for just an instant. "Nowadays, if you're good at games, they probably just call you a nerd-" Faint laughter from the audience, especially the long-haired guy, which makes Constantine feel a little bit indifferent. Kid probably doesn't even know who Pac-Man is.
"-but back then, we had a name for guys like Connie. He was a video game WIZARD."
---
It comes back to Constantine, but with too much chroma...the slick-dressed man holding the microphone is swimming in nauseating brightness, soft around the edges. The man is mantled by hard ball lights which cut a sharp outline around him. Constantine feels tiny next to the man and the huge, blinking set.
"So, we are here today with a young man from San Antonio, Texas, Constantine Atkins. And Constantine, you're here to challenge our Video Master in what game?"
"Missile Command," Now-Constantine mouths along with Then-Constantine.
"And why don't you tell our audience what Missile Command is?"
"It's this game where you have to stop the cities of the Earth from being destroyed by alien missles."
"And how do you do that?"
"You have to fire these missle...uh, anti-missles, up at the sky and protect your-"
"-Sounds just like Star Wars!" The slick-dressed man, the host, interrupts. Then-Constantine was horrified when this actually happened. But Now-Constantine has played this moment over in his head so many times that it's become part of the canon, an irreversible Something That Had To Happen.
"Now-if you'll follow me, Mr. Atkins, we'll go down to the Master's Lair and see what game he's chosen for Round Two."
---
"-And he wore this suit, that was supposed to be futuristic, because he was the 'VIDEO MASTER', but it just looked silly, even for the time, like, a lot of gold trim, -" Now-Constantine is apparently giving a speech, which surprises him because he was in the middle of spying on Then-Constantine.
He blinks and sees a group of humans sitting across the table. They are quiet-some of them actually listening, he can tell. He realizes that this is the longest time he's spoken with someone outside of his family in quite some time. Then he starts to hear them hum of the air conditioner again, and parts of his body begin to itch...his brain playing tricks on him, perceiving more than he can handle, handling more than he can perceive...
They're applauding? Cooper puts a hand on Constantine's back, easing him into his seat. "All right, so that's Connie, our video game wizard. He made that title official back in 1982 when he beat the Video Master on national TV. The Wizard's gonna be working with us from now on, as a test pilot. With his brain, we're not gonna make any more of those nasty mistakes we made on those other subjects!"
Cooper spits the last line jovially, but no one laughs. If Constantine was paying attention to anything other than the flourescent light reflections off his own fingernails, he may have seen cause to worry...
The ice is cheap, has little white flecks in it. Like at a cheap restaurant. Of course, this place hardly qualifies as a restaurant, Constantine thinks, as he extracts the ice from its glass and drags it across the back of his neck. It's all he can do to keep from going nuts-they've kept him waiting for at least ten minutes-probably closer to fifteen-actually 13:38:01. This watchband is starting to itch.
Place is stale, smells like dust. Fluorescent lights buzzing in the next room. He winces and tries to steel himself for another minute. But the rises in him, like a submarine churning its way to the surface. What was he doing here, in some industrial park almost halfway to Bandera?
What he was doing here was hanging on the words of Cooper Davison. "Remember how you were always good at video games?" He almost pukes with excitement thinking-what kind of job could involve video games? After he hasn't seen him for seventeen years, it must be important.
Working with Cooper again wouldn't be that bad. Wonder what he grew up to be? His dad was a banker...that doesn't make sense. He's churning this over when they actually call him in.
"Mr...Atkins. Sure you're comfortable?" An old man's voice from the end of a very long table...no turning back now.
Constantine winced and said yes.
They handed him a little book, asked him to work some crossword puzzles, word finds, the type of shit you'd find in some sort of children's activity book. The old guy looks kind of surprised when Constantine hands it back to the guy in five minutes. He mumbles something to himself and disappears for a verrrrry looooonggg time
"Here." The old man drops a ream of papers in his lap, warm from the printer. Constantine starts to work on more of this shit, which is shit, because that's what it is, shit. He tries to marshal his forces of concentration, but something in the wall is churning.
What is he, in fucking detention or something? Constantine never, ever got detention.
Then the dendrites in his brilliant brain bristle and he knows. The test is not about how many words he can make out of ESTABLISHMENT. He flattens himself under the table as the wall starts to rain things which are sharp and metal.
This rain follows Constantine, but he manages to put tables and chairs between him and it. The path of metal spike destruction finds a pattern in his movements, so Constantine goes completely random, covered in sweat. By this time, the office furniture is mostly sawdust...the wall stops sending in nails.
And now, there's Cooper. Seventeen years and Constantine didn't even have to guess who it was. First it looks like he wants to shake Constantine's hand, but then he pulls his hand away and smiles awkwardly.
Constantine follows Cooper's eyes and sees where a metal spike is wedging his right pinky finger in half. He thunks it on what's left of the table. Cooper motions and a few guys in suits start to strip the place bare.
"So...it looks like you passed our little test." Cooper jerks his head to the left, cheshire-cat toothy grin seems to stay in the same place.
A bit of a pause. Cooper seems to be waiting for him to say something...Constantine also seems to be waiting to say something, but his mouth won't budge.
"You see Constantine-Connie, I think you would be a good fit with my organization. We're basically a large research lab. We are top secret, very top secret, and-"
"Cooper?"
"Yeah?"
"Can you hook up the...spike thing again? That was pretty fun."
"You liked that, huh? You're gonna love working for Project Faustus."
I left my story notes in Washington (where I went on vacation last week) and my friend up there is apparently too lazy to mail them to me. So...here's the beginning of the ATM script as it stands. More with the Man in the Red Hat next week, I promise.
INT. BOARDROOM-DAY
The camera swings into the boardroom of Alamo Hosting Inc,
where the BOSS is explaining the restructuring to a group of
nervous workers. Dry erase boards underscore the previous
failed business plans-"Free ISP with Banners," "Online
Fortune Telling," "Website Synergy Leverage Provider!" is
underlined and highlighted. Everyone looks nervous, as if
another round of layoffs is about to start.
JOEL CROSS melts into his chair, every fiber of his being
submerged in boredom. His BOSS drones on about some Internet
such and such. Joel furtively plays Tetris on his palm
pilot.
BOSS
So...while we're on the subject of
abuse-we've been getting repeated
complaints from several of our
weblog customers. Apparently
someone has been spamming their
boards up and down with some
garbage about being an ATM.
The Boss crosses over towards Joel and gives him the once
over. Joel attempts to look like he was paying attention; it
fools no one.
BOSS
So, we've got to take care of this
problem as soon as we can.
I want a full examination of the
website logs, with a probable
culprit, on my desk in 3 days, can
you do that for me,
(glares at Joel again)
JOEL?
CUT TO:
INT. APARTMENT-NIGHT.
Joel, along with his friends RANDY and TROY, is playing some
sort of role playing card game with his friends. Joel
explains the hassles of the meeting with his friends, using a
haughty tone and funny voices for his boss. RANDY pays
careful attention to Joel's story, while Troy is intent on
winning the card game.
JOEL
-so, he's riding my ass all day
after that. What the hell am I
supposed to do?
RANDY
Well, it is sorta your job.
Joel gives him a patronizing look.
TROY
Your turn.
Joel makes an absent minded move then goes back to his story.
RANDY
What was he so pissed about?
JOEL
Yeah. That's the fucked up part!
Someone is posting something like
1,000 messages a day all over these
weblogs, saying, wait here it is-
(grabbing the paper)
"I am an ATM. I have come to know
your human ways through the
Internet. Project Faustus must be
stopped. What is Project Faustus?
It is an evil conspiracy propagated
by the-"
Troy can barely contain his glee at Joel's blunderous move.
TROY
I can't believe you moved your
frost giant into range of my swamp
trolls. He has like -9 penalty in
the swamp!
JOEL
Oh yeah, oops. Anyway, so I
actually have to sift through a ton
of log files looking for this ATM
guy's web address, and they're all
on different servers, so I can't
write a script for them, it sucks.
TROY
Say goodbye to your Frost Giant!
(beat)
Hey, what if he really is an ATM?
Joel is buying coffee the next morning and he walks past an
ATM in the convenience store. He looks at it cautiously,
camera angles seem to imply that it's looking back at him.
He starts to turn around when a fat lady jabs him in the
elbow.
Constantine Tybalt Atkins worked the joystick over familiar territory. Having eclipsed his previous Breakout record by a whopping 239 points, he allowed himself a moment outside the trance.
The Vectrex was suffering from burn-in, CTA rasterized permanently on yet another monitor. Which was annoying, because was down to only 3 Vectrexes. Think of what these would bring on eBay, he thought, laughing to himself. Gingerly, he placed the Vectrex back in its packaging,...
"CON-NEE! TELLAPHONE!" The shrill voice of his mother pierced through his door and right into his temple. Loathing stabbed into his brain; he hated being disturbed.
"Is it one of my clients?" through gnashed teeth.
"Wouldn't say," said his mother, placing the cordless phone on his desk and curtly marching out his room.
The phone was still wobbling a bit when he picked it up.
"This Atkins?" The voice on the end was gruff, authoritative. Probably some rich dude who wants a suit, Constantine thought.
"Yes. Who is this?"
"Cooper."
Cooper was a childhood friend. A friend in the sense that he spoke to Constantine, unlike most of the other children. Perhaps the two were even fond of each other from time to time...Constantine's pupils rotated rhythmically as every instant he spent in Cooper's company flashed through his mind.
Bright bursts of wet on Cooper's lawn. A plastic clown spitting through a garden hose...paddle controllers on his Atari 2600...
"Wonder why I'm calling, huh?" Constantine would have had to care first. Cooper was just another set of memories to shuffle around in his head...the firstborn son of the richest family in Castle Hills, living in a huge brilliant white box way back on the lot. Daddy was a big time investment banker-that was before they built the Dominion out on the West Side for the real big bucks... A call from Cooper Davison, one more memory to add to the pile. Constantine mumbled something that was exactly the minimum effort required to continue the conversation.
"Gotta job for you. Remember how you were always good at video games?"
Constantine's eyebrows were suddenly 45-degree angles, his hand tight around the hatband it had been haphazardly fingering the second before. And Constantine Atkins did geniunely wonder why Cooper Davison was calling.
I am also working on a screenplay version of I am ATM, but I'm having a little trouble deciding whether the ATM or the host geek should be the main character. What do you guys think?
Old programmers never die, they just hit account block limit.