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I've been excited to make this post for quite a while. As you know, I've written quite often about Google Homepage Modules and Squidoo at different times. Well, today Squidoo announced the availability of a new Google Homepage module that I developed for them. It provides a quick view of their top 100 lists right on your homepage. You can read about it on their SquidBlog.
Thanks to everyone at Squidoo for letting me be involved!
Though it may not seem so, I have actually been spending a bit of my time reading lately. I just finished reading Eragon, the first in a series (of three, I believe) books by a young writer named Christopher Paolini.
I had read several reviews of the book before I bought it, but I found that the reviewers were either 14 years old and in love with the book or 30-something and hated it because it was liked by 14-year-olds. So, being a 30-something and not quite so self important as to instantly dismiss all things likable by teens, I decided to read it for myself.
I found it to be a very readable and interesting book. It didn't suck me in as quickly as a Dan Brown novel (or a Harry Potter novel -- by the way, I can hear several people groaning right now as I mention Harry Potter and Dan Brown in the same sentence), but once I got into the story, I was hooked. The fantasy elements are reminiscent of The Lord of the Rings trilogy (ok, there are things that are nearly identical, but you know what they say about imitation and flattery), but there were also many new and unique elements.
If you haven't read this book, give it a chance. It's creative and fun and makes a nice diversion from some of the current bestsellers that may or may not be based on reality (or some semblance of reality which forces Oprah to apologize).
The second book in the series is already available. I'll be reading it as soon as I can.
I'm not really sure what happened yesterday or how I could have possibly forgotten the Monday movie review. Sorry about that. I'm pretty sure there were about 3 people out there that were really disappointed.
So I took my daughter to see The Pink Panther. Admittedly, I had wanted to see this film because I've always been a fan of the originals with Peter Sellers, but I was also worried because perhaps the bar set by the originals was too high for a remake. One friend told me the best way to go into the movie was to pretend like this was the first movie of its kind. Actually, I don't think it makes any difference.
This was just a poor movie. It wasn't particularly funny, the accents were painful (and yes, I know that's part of the point, but it didn't work) and I looked at my watch within the first 20 minutes. That's never a good sign. If you do happen to go see this movie, I recommend sitting near a fat guy who will laugh at anything. That was the only entertainment in the theater for me. 0.25π.
I heard somewhere recently that most of the United States is experiencing something called winter. I suppose we have that too here in Arizona, but for us it usually means a bit of rainfall amidst exceptionally beautiful sunny days. Except this year. It hasn't rained here since October 18, 2005.
The funny thing about living in the desert is that any news of rain makes people giddy. The news anchors last night were thrilled with our forty percent chance of light rain. The other funny thing is what happens if the rain doesn't actually fall here today. People will get angry with the forecasters. I'll let you know what happens.
Chapter 47
Sunday, 13 March 2022 – 6:00 a.m. IST
Daniel had chartered a direct return flight to Bangalore. He normally preferred to fly commercial first class as he hated the claustrophobic solitude of small jet aircraft. Sireesha had never understood his fear, but rarely fought against it. This trip, however, had to be made immediately. Daniel could not wait for the daytime schedule of South African air. He flew through the night and crossed three-and-a-half time zones to arrive in Bangalore just before six a.m.
Sireesha met him at his office just after he arrived. “How was the flight?” she asked. Daniel replied with a cold glare.
“This may take a little while,” he remarked as he activated several viewscreen panels around his office. He had learned never to order Sireesha to do anything, but he knew how to get what he wanted. She left.
Daniel worked quickly to connect the device he had taken from Brad’s home to his local network. In moments he had gained access. It was a simple device, just a small box with enough memory to store a basic operating system, a few standard software tools and some data. There was almost no security on the files, but it had no reason to be secure. The device had been constructed to do one thing: to send a few well-crafted data packets into the switches developed by Q-Morrow and Naidu.
Daniel studied the payload of the data packet. He found two very small sets of executable instructions and a data set. He skipped quickly past the executable code to the data and extracted it to a separate viewscreen. His jaw fell open.
“Sireesha,” he called out. He knew she wouldn’t have gone far. She heard the urgency in his voice and returned to his office immediately.
“What is it?”
“Take a look at this,” he said. He split the data onto several views so the entire message could be read at once. “It looks like Brad had a contingency plan.”
Sireesha read the message. She re-read it then pulled a chair up beside Daniel and slumped down in it. “Is there more to the message?”
“This is the text part,” he answered. “There are several attached data files. It’s everything a person would need.”
“Has this message been sent?” she asked, hoping for an answer that she did not expect.
“Not sent. Sending,” replied Daniel. “The device sent out a payload to a few switches and the payload infected them with a small set of instructions to relay this message.”
“To who?”
“Anyone. Everyone. I think. I need to look at the code, but I think Brad’s message is canvassing the network at large. It will eventually turn up in instant messages, emails, file transfers and everything else.”
“Can we stop it?”
Daniel stared at Sireesha for a moment. “Apparently not,” he answered. “The future is already corrupted.”
“I can’t accept that,” she fumed. “There has to be something we can do.”
“What do you suggest?”
Sireesha paused for a moment. She considered the options. “Can we purge our switches? Reset them?”
“Yes, but I don’t...”
“Can you do it?” she barked.
Daniel shot any icy glare. “Yes,” he answered. “If I’m right, though, we’ll be infected again immediately. Quinn’s network was infected too. We have to shut this down on both networks.”
“Then we can backtrace the timeline and clean up the mess,” Sireesha said.
Daniel understood what she meant, but doubted it could be accomplished. Brad had initiated a chain of events that was so comprehensive and extensive that Daniel could not begin to estimate the impact.
“It’s a big mess,” he whispered. He looked up at Sireesha. “And it’s getting bigger. It’s a self-propagating infection. It’s infected three percent of our systems already and growing exponentially.”
“How much time do we have?”
“Give me an hour to study the code and I’ll know,” he answered.
“One hour,” Sireesha shot back. “And look for options. It’s unlikely that we’ll have Quinn’s cooperation on this.”
Daniel rubbed his eyes. The clock read six-thirty a.m., but it felt like three and he hadn’t had much sleep. He reclined back a bit in his chair and began examining Brad’s message in detail. He activated some additional viewers to log the infection and message rates on the switches.
The hour passed quickly. Sireesha entered exactly when the deadline arrived.
“First, I have added a filter that will slow the propagation of the infection within our network. Second, I think I found a way to shut it down,” Daniel stated as she entered.
“Yes?”
“The infection is a simplistic program that was designed to do two things. The first is to propagate. It does so by exploiting an esoteric bug in Quinn’s original futurestream program.”
“What about our systems?” Sireesha interrupted.
“I think Brad had one of our engineers leave a back door in the code,” he said.
“Ravi,” Sireesha commented. Ravi had been a close friend to Brad. They had spent hours together outside the office discussing everything from politics and religion to the elusive rules of American football.
“In any case, this little program will eventually infect all of our switches and all of Quinn’s. The second function is to blindly relay messages. All of the switches are sending out the message I showed you earlier. But there is a provision for uploading a new message.” Daniel raised his eyebrows and looked to Sireesha.
“Can you do it now?”
“No. The new message must be property encrypted.” Daniel smiled in spite of the problems at hand.
Sireesha found nothing about the situation amusing. “You told me you had an option.”
“I think Brad left here with two devices. This one,” he pointed at the small network box, “and something else. A message transmitter. We need the transmitter. It would be the fastest way to disarm the program – and it doesn’t require Quinn’s cooperation.”
“And the transmitter? Is it still in Durban?” Sireesha sighed.
Daniel shrugged. “If it were me, I wouldn’t keep the two together. But Brad ... I don’t know what he would have done.”
Sireesha stared at the message screens for a moment. She sifted through the options. “This was a very clever idea,” she said just loudly enough to be heard.
She turned slightly and stared out the windows into the morning sky. Her mind raced as she tried to regain control of the situation. For the past few days, she had been decisively in control of events in her company and in the world at large. She had effectively dethroned Quinn, but this was unexpected. Brad had posthumously managed to force his personal agenda onto the table. Now he was in control. Sireesha pondered for a moment longer. She would allow neither Brad’s agenda nor Quinn’s agenda to interfere with hers.
Sireesha finally broke the silence, “Clearly we need this transmitter. And whether he knows it or not at this point, Quinn also needs it.” She turned to Daniel directly. “And I believe you’re right. The transmitter is not likely to be there, in Durban.” Sireesha stood. “I believe it is time to visit our old partner.”
As she walked out of Daniel’s office, she called back to him, “I’ll take care of the flight. You just be ready to leave in two hours.”
Daniel sighed, glancing at the time again. He would sleep on the plane.
There are some web sites that are just so obviously cool that nothing more can be said about them. Flickr is one of those sites. it's amazing that they can provide such a powerful service for free (or next to free even if you do upgrade).
Since releasing my Flickr module for the Google Personalized Homepage, I've had a few requests for integrating the module into other web sites. Recently I decided to take a look at what I would need to accomplish it. Today I'm releasing the first version of this general-purpose script (that I'm calling EZFlickr) for anyone who would like to use it.
Here is what it might look like on your page:
You don't get much of a sense of the power of the script from looking at the image above, but you can configure it to select photos with specific tags, uploaded by specific users and you can set it up to refresh every few seconds automatically.
To get going, just visit this page and copy the code to your own site. Let me know what you like and what you don't like.
Note: Please forgive me if you happen to see something offensive in the image above. The EZFlickr code above is showing random pictures from Flickr. There is no way to filter out offensive material in the programming code.
Ten years ago it would have been nearly impossible for a small group of fans to quickly band together and provide any meaningful kind of service for a new star. But today with the amazing reach of the Internet, the instant communications via email, the armchair news creators feeding the blogosphere and the ability to create and sell products online with little or no setup (think Zazzle, iPrint, etc) so much can be done.
I think it's safe to say that only a few weeks ago almost nobody had heard the name Taylor Hicks. Today you can buy a t-shirt showing your support for him. How cool is that? Now that's what I call organic growth.
Now, do I get the black t-shirt or the white one?
I don't know if he has the X Factor, but I'll keep voting for him.
Taylor's first audition and learning that he's made it to the top 24:
Taylor's first week song:
Isn't the Internet incredible?
Both Bobby Bennett and Patrick Hall were on my initial cut list. If I could have voted for two guys to go home (rather than voting for the ones I liked), I would have chosen these two guys.
But for the girls, I would have picked differently. I'm not surprised that Beck O'Donohue got voted off. She was cute enough, but the singing... Well, obviously. I think that Stevie Scott needed a couple more weeks. She's a good singer, but she didn't pick great songs. I think she could have gone further. If I could have picked, I would have cut Brenna Gethers. Maybe next week.
Right now I'm desperately trying to purge that rendition of Copacabana out of my brain. Sorry, now you're singing it too.
I thank everyone who has been commenting recently. It makes blogging so much more fun because now I know that I'm not the only one reading. It also adds a new dimension to the blog because it allows readers to interact with each other.
I've just updated my site a bit so that it's easier to find new comments. If you look in the right-hand column you will find a section that contains a list of the most recent comments and a short excerpt. You can then follow the links to read the full comment or learn more about the commenter (if the commenter provides a URL). The section is also gravatar enabled if you're a big enough geek (like myself) to have a gravatar.
Thanks for your feedback!
Last night my wife asked me to explain to our daughter why Abraham Lincoln started his famous address with the words "Four score and seven years ago..." I was stumped. I understand the numbers four score and seven to mean 87, but I don't know why he chose that wording. So that's the question for our armchair historians.
I've always assumed that the wording was chosen artistically -- to present a more formal flair to the beginning of his speech. It sounds more poetic or artistic than simply saying "Eighty-seven years ago..." But I'm not sure that this wasn't simply a choice that was more common at the time. Perhaps the word "score" was a commonly-used word at the time in the same sense that fortnight, peck or rod were common in the past but almost never used today.
So that's the real question: why did Lincoln say "Four score and seven"?
I find these kinds of things very interesting, so I'm going to throw a little trivia out. Did you know that in French the way to express the number eighty is to say quatre vingt which is literally four twenties (four score)? And the number ninety is quatre vingt dix, literally four twenties ten? Did you know that not all cultures group numbers by thousands? In China and commonly in India numbers are grouped by ten thousands. For example the number one million in English is written 1,000,000 in the US, but would be represented as 100,0000 or 百萬(100)(1,0000). In many languages constructing large numbers is much more challenging than in English. In Xhosa and Zulu, the year 1987 which we would say as nineteen eighty-seven would be spoken as one thousand nine hundreds eight tens seven. In many cases native Xhosa and Zulu speakers today would switch to English for large numbers.
After realizing how lucky I'm feeling today, I thought it would be a good time to mention for the sake of all the new readers what in the world this crazy blog is actually all about.
I created this blog for one purpose: to get people looking at my book. It can be read online. You can comment on it just like you can comment on any other post I make. It's completely free, requires no sign up, has no restrictions. It's just there.
So why would I do this you ask? There are 2 reasons: 1) To find a literary agent/publisher, and 2) to generate a community of interested readers. So read and comment, then pass it along to your coworkers, boss, vendors, sub-contractors, customers, clients, patients, family, friends, next-of-kin and in-laws. If any of those people happen to be a literary agent or publisher, pass it along twice.
If you like it, pass it on and let me know. If you hate it, pass it on and tell your friends why you hate it (and tell me if you feel like it) because maybe they'll like it just like they like Celine Dion but won't tell you.
There aren't many days when a person stumbles onto a web page that really gives them a new hope for the future of humanity, but those days do come. Today is such a day for me. It's been a long time since Numa Numa and even longer still since the Star Wars kid, but today I found a rare gem in the Blogosphere and had to share: The Bacon Show -- One Bacon Recipe Per Day, Every Day, Forever.
Not only did I find a blog dedicated to bacon, but I was equally as thrilled to finally find a recipe that blends bacon and Grape Nuts.
Now where's that 13x9 pan?
If you don't love Dilbert, you probably need a brain scan. That said, I also recommend reading everything by Scott Adams (I really mean everything) because he's got a very interesting perspective -- and most of the time it's funny.
His blog today contains an entry for which I can do no further justice. Just read it.
If you know anything about me, you'll know that I'm the obvious target of all kinds of jokes (short, overweight, clumsy, uncoordinated, not to mention all of the category jabs such as religious, political, etc.). I'm pretty sure if Scott Adams drew a picture of me hugging a box of Grape Nuts, passed out from exerting myself getting to the TV remote and then had Dogbert kick me off a log, I'd just laugh. Read my short stories if you don't think I can laugh at myself.
Chapter 46
Saturday, 12 March 2022 – 2:00 p.m. MST
Patience had never been a strong character trait for Byran. He loathed waiting. The nearly two hours of diagnostic assessment had driven him nearly into a rage. He had tried to distract himself with comics, but they were ruined. He tried his Valerie video collection, but that just reminded him of the last aggravated conversation he had with her. There was nothing but waiting.
When the results finally came, he filtered through them quickly. The test program he developed had been rudimentary. The results were unformatted numbers, lists of status information, packet counts and similar data. To the untrained, the results would be meaningless, but Bryan read it like a children’s book. He knew exactly what to expect. It took him less than a minute to find a pattern. He called Valerie.
“I’ve found something here,” he said.
“Okay?”
“When you look at the incoming and outgoing packet counts, and factor out the additional QoS stuff of Quinn’s, there is still a discrepancy. Too many packets are coming out of the switches.”
“What does that mean?”
“There’s something new inside the firmware creating data,” Bryan answered. He felt sick.
“What kind of data? And where is it going?”
“That may take a little while longer. I’ll have to write another monitor and filter out all of the normal...” Bryan trailed off as he thought about the amount of work it would be.
“How long?” Valerie heard and understood the concern in Bryan’s voice.
“Hours,” he replied.
Valerie considered the impact. “Is there anyway of shutting it down or blocking the data until we can finish the assessment?”
“No,” Bryan answered. His voice was low. All the fight that had previously driven him had been replaced by a sickening anxiety. He was ultimately responsible for this, no matter how it had occurred. “To shut it down means shutting down the switches themselves. To block it we need to know what it is. We have to isolate these new outbound packets first.”
“What do you need?”
“Time.” He looked up at Valerie’s image. “Just time.”
Valerie forced a smile. “Let me know if you need anything.”
Bryan sat back for a minute and formulated the new software in his mind. He had a knack for visualizing the details of any software project, large or small. He considered several options before settling back at his keyboard and hacking out the code required for the new isolation test.
His time estimate had been accurate. Two and a half hours passed as he built and tested the new patch. It would be another two hours at least before he had enough data to examine to make an assessment. He initiated the software and lumbered to the restroom for a break.
After a full day of serious topics, it's time for something fun. My brain can only handle a limited about of seriousness.
I forgot that I had watched Bulletproof Monk this weekend when I wrote the Monday Movie Review. I've been curious about this movie but never curious enough to commit to rent it. Primarily my fear was that it would be either like a bad Jackie Chan movie or a goofy kung-fu-meets-American action comedy (think Shanghai Noon and Shanghai Knights). Well, it was a little bit of the latter, but (and perhaps because my expectations were so low) it wasn't really all that goofy. I have to admit that I like Seann William Scott and I liked the character he played. Additionally, I really like 周潤發(Chow Yun-Fat) having seen him in Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon and Anna and the King (amongst others). His role had a level of humor, but it was still balanced with the dignity that you just simply get from him.
The movie had a nice balance of humor, action, drama and fighting/action and the fight sequences weren't completely over the top as many are (granted, there was still plenty of wire work). I thought the story was interesting enough to tie together the action and the humor and the girl was cute (Jaime King). Overall very likable. I'd watch it again. 1.25π.
If you don't follow Seth's Blog, he's reported a number of companies that seem to be doing almost everything they can to make customers' lives miserable. Ok, maybe not that, but they're obviously not doing everything they can to help. Why is that?
First, there's this article about a customer service response that is complete nonsense. You really have to read it.
Next, I really appreciated this article about Ticketmaster. By now you've probably come across a web site where you have to type in a set of numbers or letters that are obscured in such a way to make them hard to read. If you haven't been to Ticketmaster, you haven't seen the worst of it. Theirs are so hard to read that they're nearly impossible. How many times will you try something like that before you just quit?
I have one of my own to add. This comes from a friend of mine who collects Star Wars memorabilia. He recently went to Toys R Us to buy some new figures and was told that they would "no longer cater to collectors." That meant that they wouldn't go check stock to see if they had any of the particular figure he was seeking. How does that make sense? If they help him, he buys from them. If they don't help him, he doesn't buy at that time or have interest in ever going back. Can anyone tell me how a policy of alienating a group of customers or to an individual customer is ever a good thing? Now think about it in the context of a company that already needs to close some of its doors.
I think we live in a society that feels unjustified entitlement having unrealistic expectations. As individuals, many feel entitled to live beyond their means without consequence (think instant credit, payday loans, rampant bankruptcy filings, read here). I think that sometimes filters up into businesses and government. Businesses that have been as big as Toys R Us perhaps feel that their customer base is an entitlement. It's not. I haven't purchased anything there for years. It's too expensive and I don't like their customer service.
Read Seth's Blog (and the articles he references) and keep your eyes open. Things are changing. We aren't far from a time when any individual or small company can easily take on what used to be considered the giants. When more of us are doing more business and personal communications via the Internet, size and location won't matter. Only responsiveness and responsibility will.
Well, I received an immediate response from my last message to state representative Pearce:
I appreciate what you are saying and maybe there is. We did meet with the School President and was dumb founded when told there was nothing they could do. I read through the book and I would have led the assault on the school and folks there for pushing and requireing [sic] that kind of trash be read and in fact jeopardized the scholarship of this student. Thanks
Thanks!
Yesterday I wrote about being offended and a bill making its way through the Arizona legislature. After posting that, I decided to contact my local government and sent this message:
Re: SB1331: offensive coursework alternativesPlease discontinue pushing this bill through to law. This strikes me as such a closed-minded approach to education and it scares me. It may be the case that the bill was initially created to prevent students from being compelled to read literature or watch movies that contain sexually offensive material, but this kind of legislation strikes me as short-sighted and frightening. What happens when a small group of students find the Old Testament offensive in their Humanities course (the first five books of the Old Testament were required reading when I took humanities at ASU)? Or what happens when "To Kill a Mockingbird" is found offensive? Or 1984?
There are so many opportunities for people to claim to be offended in life. These are opportunities to grow, re-evaluate one's position and to see life from a different perspective. If we allow students the opportunity to "opt out" of anything they don't like, what are we teaching them? Life doesn't work that way.
If you have read the book that was required reading that sparked this legislation, I believe you would prefer this also. The book was child pornography simple and plain. It was absolutely obscene. No one has the right to force our youth to read such filth and especially those we trust our youth to.
My issue with this bill is not concerning a single piece of literature, but about who is going to decide what material is deemed offensive? Do the students get to choose? I think there is a better way to approach the problem than through legislation.For example, if the material is so patently offensive that students are forced to take action, there is likely a way to approach the problem within the school itself. Additionally, if the book actually contains child pornography, then it is likely illegal under some other Arizona law.
You state that "no one has the right to force our youth to reach such filth." I say that no has has forced our youth to attend that school, to take that particular course under that particular professor. There are always choices and if one student is unable to complete a class for moral reasons that student can fill the requirement elsewhere. If the majority of the students object, one way or another they can and should work with the school to make the necessary changes. Let's teach students how to be critical thinkers, responsible citizens and empowered agents for change.
It is true that I would have found a book containing child pornography offensive, but I still think this is unnecessary legislation as there are alternate means for a student to manage this situation.
My good friend Jeffrey makes some great points about responsibility that go along well with what I said earlier today.
Chapter 45
Saturday, 12 March 2022 – 10:45 p.m. SAST
Ramesh drew a long breath of the damp salt air as he stepped from the plane. He glanced around, hoping to see something familiar, something reminiscent of his youth. It was dark and he had never been at the airport in Durban before. He recognized little. The drive to his hotel was equally as uninspiring. He had become disconnected from his home town, but he hoped that morning would bring a renewed perspective.
He stood on the outside patio of a fantastic suite at the Hilton Durban. Jet lag and anxiety made him restless. He wanted to sleep, but his body refused. He sent a message to Quinn.
I have arrived in Durban. I plan to visit the market tomorrow morning. Brad spoke of the market often in our correspondence. Perhaps I will find someone who knows him.
Ramesh stared out at the Indian Ocean from his patio. The lights of distant ships blinked on the curved horizon. He breathed deeply. He missed the ocean. He closed his eyes and listened. Waves crashed on a nearby beach. Gulls called.
A light breeze carried on it the scent of Durban that he remembered from his childhood. The damp saltiness of the breeze, the ocean, and somewhere deep and ultimately subtle was the scent of Durban’s historical and cultural magic. One could almost sense the spices of Victoria Street calling to the memory of Ghandi’s years of political service in Durban. There was the dusty scent of the Zulu ranches reminding of the great Shaka Zulu whose twelve-year rule remained one of the most notable in South African history. And there was the undeniable scent of western civilization that the Dutch, English, and Portuguese had left in their years of colonization.
He set his teacup aside and activated his implants. He sent a message to his mother, leaving out most of the details, but telling her about the new contract work. She would be excited. She had been urging him to get out more. His mourning had continued for much too long. He was still young and a very handsome man, she constantly reminded.
Ramesh drew in one last deep breath of the ocean air and retired. The bed felt wonderful. He lay awake for a moment, wondering how his life would have turned out if his family had stayed in Durban. He was sure that he would never have spent any time in the suite at the Hilton. He wished that Padumi could have been there with him. She would have enjoyed the luxury.
Okay, now that I've done my civic duty for the day, let's do something fun.
This was a pretty big movie weekend for me again. I watched a couple from Netflix.com and one in the theater. I'll go from worst to best.
First I watched Friday Night Lights. Ug. This movie is going to forever live among my most hated movies list. It takes a special kind of movie to hit that list and this one pulled it off. Really, what was this movie? A documentary? A drama? What it felt like to me was that a desperate football wannabe turned screenplay writer trying desperately to recapture the "glory days" in film. I never cared about one single person in the film, though there were enough "hardship" scenes to prove that someone was trying to make me care. Awful. No π for you!
I finally got to see Flightplan with Jodie Foster. I liked it but I didn't love it. I'll watch it again, but not today. This movie had all of the elements to make a really compelling action-packed story, but something was missing. And to be honest I really can't put a finger on what that element was. Watch this film for me, then tell me what was missing. 1.0π.
Lastly, I took my son to see Hoodwinked. When was the last time you laughed out loud in a movie? Well, this was it for me. I'm not a big fan of Shrek, though I like it well enough, so I've always been a little wary of the Shrek'ish films that have been coming out lately. This one is hilarious. The animation isn't quite as amazing as some, but the casting and the story make up for that in a huge way. If you saw Fletch, XXX, any of the Bond films and you like satire, you'll like this movie. 1.75π.
When did it become a right of all people in the world to never be offended by anything? I'm not talking about being insensitive to other people. I don't think we need to be deliberately offensive, but what I'm asking is this: at what point did it become the government's responsibility to ensure that nobody ever gets offended?
I just heard about this bill in the State of Arizona (where I live): SB1331, "postsecondary instruction; offensive coursework alternatives" (you can read a news article that briefly discusses it here). This bill basically provides a way for students to opt out of some coursework if they find it offensive. This is absolutely baffling to me -- and it worries me.
To take a spin on Elanor Roosevelt's quote: "No one can make you feel inferior without your consent," I say "No one can offend you without your consent." Most often, offense is not in the giving, but in the receiving. Let me give you some examples from my life. I blog. I write. I develop software. On any given day I receive dozens of comments or emails from people I don't know regarding my blogging, my writing or my software. Here are some:
About my Google Modules (which are completely free of charge):
It doesn't work.
Pathetic that you dint [sic] use PNG or GIF with transparent.
It is too slow.
About my writing:
Title needs work. The reasons you gave for reading your book barely grabbed my attention. It was like walking up to a stranger and saying,"I'm really charming and interesting." and expecting them to just trust you. Also, "the subject of a teen magazine article" does not make me want to read further. All of this did however prompt me to waste two seconds posting this rude comment.
You may think you are leaving me wondering so I'll read the book to find out, but to tell you the truth, my interest isn't peaked [sic] because I don't know what you're talking about. You can't get everybody to read it.
Am I offended? No. I have a realistic view of myself and what I do. When I am criticized, I learn from it. When something I believe is questioned or challenged, I learn from it.
To me the possibility of this law in Arizona sounds like a personal censorship initiative that makes it possible for any student or group of students to close their minds to much of the world. The bill was initiated (according to the news article) to prevent a student from reading a book containing scenes of sexuality and drug references. What if the offensive material were the Bible (offensive to non-Christians) or To Kill a Mockingbird (racially offensive)? If every individual is allowed to decide what is offensive to them, is there anything written that would be found completely inoffensive to everyone? At all times?
Life is life. There are so many ways to be offended on a daily basis. Let's grow up a little and deal with it. Let's apologize better when we do offend and let's learn from the past so we don't do it again.
I received a comment today from a reader who has noticed the same thing that I have noticed: It's awfully quiet out there. That is, there aren't many comments being posted. So, either there aren't many readers or I'm writing about things that inspire no comments.
Here's the very first comment to my book's prologue (it came today):
Okay, I read the prologue and I'll probably go on to read Chapter 1. So far so good. I'm a little disappointed though. Not so much by the writing as the fact that I don't see other comments here. That's half the fun!
I agree. Not only is it half the fun, it's really the whole point.
So, read and comment. It's easy and can be fun. It may also just be a good outlet. Now, when you comment, you may have to wait a little while for me to approve the comment. Unfortunately the spammers are quite busy posting nonsense comments that link off to their sites for Viagra, Heightmax or whatever else. But as long as your comment is not spam and not patently offensive, I'll approve it. I got this tidbit recently (and I approved it):
Title needs work. The reasons you gave for reading your book barely grabbed my attention. It was like walking up to a stranger and saying,"I'm really charming and interesting." and expecting them to just trust you. Also, "the subject of a teen magazine article" does not make me want to read further. All of this did however prompt me to waste two seconds posting this rude comment.
Every bit of feedback that I receive helps in one way or another.
So get out there and do some writing yourself.
If I haven't mentioned it before, I love living in Arizona. Sure, there are some downsides: roaches, 120 consecutive days with no rain, and the occasional burn from touching the seat belt metal after leaving your car in the summer sun, but generally I have no complaints. We have beautiful winter weather (it's 9:15p.m. in February and it's 61 degrees outside). We have no snow-related trouble -- I grew up in Idaho, I've had enough snow. And we have beautiful landscapes. If you've never been in the Phoenix area, I suggest a visit. Come in November or February.
Today was so nice that I decided to take my son to the zoo. We spent about four hours outdoors. Guess what I forgot... Yep, it's February and I have a sunburn.
Only in Arizona.
I'm not an industry analyst, and I don't play one on TV, but I do have an opinion and since you're here you have to suffer through it.
I think one of the reasons that Google has been so successful is that despite being the most powerful force on the Internet, they still have a sense of humor and it shows in their products. From a programmer's perspective it's easy to see that Google gives a lot of control to the developers because only a developer would think to include recipes for spam in the web clips area of GMail when you're perusing the spam folder. Check it out for yourself. Just go into your GMail spam folder and watch the web clips. They're always recipes involving spam. I've clicked on them. They're real.
Now that's funny. Not too many companies as big as Google would let their developers do something cute like that, but it works for Google and that may be part of why Google works.
If that ever goes away, we'll just have another IBM or Microsoft. Boring.
I've never heard of MovieBeam before, but apparently it's been around.
It's kind of a cool idea, but I still think it's not quite there. I already have the perfect workaround for video-store nightmares: Netflix.com.
But when I can get high-def first-run movies beamed directly into my home, I'll be the first one in line.
Uh oh! The UK is back at the forefront, but watch out for Germany. It is actually moving up most quickly right now.
Oh, and read my book. It's also better than getting poked in the eye!
This is my übergeek entry for the week.
If you haven't noticed, big changes are afoot on the web again. A few years ago everyone was talking about and/or building a portal. The idea of the portal was that people would use that primary web site as a launching point to the rest of the web. Think Yahoo!, MSN, etc. These large sites provided enormous home pages covered with news, weather, stocks and searches. They tried to be everything to everyone, but the problem was that for the end user it was too much for anyone. For me, a homepage like that never worked -- too much stuff.
Enter the personal homepage. Google has it. I've been talking about that for a while. Microsoft is developing Windows Live. And there is Pageflakes, right now it may be my personal favorite. Basically the idea of the personal homepage is to provide every person with a customizable start page for the web. For me, my page includes the latest news about Harry Potter, the latest movie news, traffic information for my area, my Netflix.com account information and the current value of Chipotle's stock. You may not care about any of this stuff, but the cool thing is that you can still use the same homepage and customize it for what you do want to see. It's like a funnel for the vastness of the web.
If you haven't yet created a personal homepage, give it a try. Pageflakes is entirely free and open to anyone. Try it. You'll like it!
Nope, this isn't about greenhouse gasses. I've noticed that the percentage of visitors from non-US countries has been steadily increasing. That makes me happy. As of this morning, Canada took the number 2 spot in visitor percentage, just squeaking past the UK for the first time in the history of this web site.
Since 1990, when I lived in South Africa, I have had a great interest in international events and a greater appreciation for events outside of the US. When I initially developed the story for The Agency Delta (read here), the four main characters were all white US men in their forties and fifties. After reading the fantastic book, Creating Unforgettable Characters
I went back to work and re-evaluated the story and the characters. The main character remained a white US man, but his closest friend and confidant in the story became a South-African born Indian raised and educated in the UK. The primary antagonist became an Indian woman named Sireesha Naidu whose personal tragedies involving Pakistani military and Kashmir provided her with a strong motivation for the atrocities she was to coordinate throughout the story. Her right-hand man became a younger white South African man raised in Durban and intimately affected by the demise of the Apartheid government.
I enjoy hearing from my non-US friends because I always get a fresh perspective. Thanks for reading!
Chapter 44
Saturday, 12 March 2022 – 11:15 a.m. MST
Bryan arrived back at his office in less than six minutes. His heart pounded and he was wet with perspiration from the top of his head down to his belt. He ran his fingers through his hair, drawing it away from his forehead and eyes then dried his hands on his pants as he pulled a keyboard toward him. He preferred a keyboard to any of the alternate input devices available as most didn’t work well for programming and the type of work he did.
He glanced at the time. Fifty-four minutes until he needed to contact Valerie again. The news of the network attack had so frustrated him that he hadn’t even taken the opportunity to notice how she looked. He decided that he would take the report back to her in person.
He started the diagnostic on the switches, choosing several switches inside the corporate network and several more on the outside. It would take some time. He turned in his chair and wheeled over to a small refrigerator and pulled out a soda. Caffeine and sugar. He needed both. He also grabbed a slice of pizza from a half-eaten box that he had ordered yesterday.
He wheeled back to his desk. On the various monitors he studied the ongoing results of the diagnostics. Initially nothing appeared to be wrong. He wondered if the corporate boneheads had simply overreacted to some transient network glitch. He waited.
Two slices of pizza had been devoured before Bryan finally saw something. First one switch, then a second showed some unusual activity. It wasn’t a catastrophic failure, but a subtle change. It was so subtle that Bryan almost dismissed it. He looked again, focusing on the two switches and running additional diagnostics. Just as he had nearly finished the test, both switches returned to normal activity.
“What the...?” Bryan whispered. He re-checked the logs. There had been a small glitch, but it was gone. Then three other switches caught his attention. It was the same problem. He started a new test on each. One returned to normal. Bryan stared in disbelief. This was not an attack from the outside. His heart pounded. His fingers raced over the keys as he tried to isolate the problem.
The next fifteen minutes were the most frantic minutes that Bryan had experienced. Every time he isolated a switch to test, he found that it returned to normal before he could complete the test. He slammed his fist down in frustration and called Valerie. Her face appeared in a call screen on a secondary monitor.
“This is Bryan,” he started. “We have a problem.”
“What is it?”
“I don’t know yet. But it’s not coming from the outside.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean that it’s not an outside attack – a DDoS or a hacker,” he barked back. “I mean it’s coming from the inside.”
“Inside the company?” Valerie loathed the condescending way that nearly all information technology workers responded to questions, but she needed Bryan and didn’t have time to start a political war.
“No, inside the switches.”
“A virus?”
“Something like that.” Bryan was still frantically typing. “But I don’t see how...”
“Can we stop it?”
“I don’t even know what it is.” Bryan pushed himself back from his desk and spun in his chair. He turned the lock in a small office safe and pulled open the door, retrieving a ragged old engineering pad. As he turned back to his monitors, he knocked over an open soda and watched it drain over his side desk, soaking a pile of unopened mail and some comics that he had recently purchased at an online auction. He cursed violently.
“Bryan?”
“Sorry,” he called back.
“Can we stop it?”
“You’ll know when I know,” he shot. “I need to write a new test program and deploy it. Do I have your permission to deploy to a live switch?”
“What’s the risk?”
“The risk is I’ll screw it up and bring the switch offline.”
Valerie hated the thought of the public relations and customer nightmares involved in a technology failure. “Is there any other way to do the test? Can we run it inside our network?”
“It’s not happening inside our network. So far, it’s only hitting live switches on the outside.”
“Are you sure about that?”
“Do you want me to wait until I’m sure, or do you want me to figure it out now?”
Valerie glared through the display with a look that would have withered anyone else. “Do it. But don’t screw it up.” She ended the call and sat back in her chair for a moment to gain her composure. There were few things in life that truly aggravated Valerie. Bryan was one of them. She took a deep breath and focused on the bigger picture. They would get through this crisis. They would get through the next. And eventually this would all be in the past.
Bryan barely noticed that Valerie had ended the call. He had opened the notebook and was searching for the login and certificate information he would need to access and modify a production switch. The notebook was the only place he kept a recorded description of anything security related. It was filled with scrawled messages, dog-eared and marked with scraps of paper.
He finally found the information for the switch he wanted to use for his test program. It was the main telecommunications switch for Arizona State University. He used that switch as often as he could. He secretly hoped that he would bring that switch offline, at least for a while.
“Expel me for video voyeurism, huh?” he thought to himself as he uploaded the firmware changes. He ran the program. The switch remained online. The force is strong with this one, he thought out as he sat back to wait for the results. He smiled smugly to himself and cracked open another soda.
I've been fighting a cold or something for about a week now and this weekend it hit hard, so I spent more time than usual watching movies. None of them were new releases, but some were new for me.
From Netflix.com, I watched Van Helsing and Just Like Heaven.
Can you call yourself a novelist if your work isn't published? Let's just assume so for now and work out the details later.
In any case, I was recently interviewed about my blog and book by Keely Grasser of Capital Arts Online in Ottawa. The resulting story is available online now for your reading pleasure.
I don't want to geek out too much, but I created a new Squidoo lens that provides information for creating Google Modules. I also included a little plug for Pageflakes and Windows Live that I may expand.
If none of the above made sense to you, or if it did but the geekiness of it was overwhelming, read my book to come back to the real world.
Loveable and likeable characters are much harder to make believeable in writing than really hateable characters (at least for me). Perhaps that's because it's easy to identify all of the things that make us dislike a person or people and lump them all into one character that represents them all.
In The Agency Delta (read and comment online), I created one really foul character that I just loved writing about. He's the senior information technology person and he's the epitomy of the worst characteristics in IT. And I know IT. I've been in and around it for a long time.
Thanks to my brother-in-law for also recommending that, according to him, every story is just better with a "really fat guy". I'm not sure why he thinks that, but it's funny and therefore my character is a really fat IT guy named after my brother-in-law.
I just uploaded chapter 43 of The Agency Delta. This is the first chapter in which the really fat IT guy gets a major scene. It was one of my favorite chapters to write.
Chapter 43
Saturday, 12 March 2022 – 11:00 a.m. MST
“Val, I’m sorry to bother you on a Saturday, but I need you to come into the office,” Quinn said as he strode through the atrium of his building.
“I’m already here,” she answered.
“Thanks, Val. I’ll be up in a second.”
The ride to the top floor was excruciatingly long. Quinn pored over the data as he traveled. On the surface everything seemed to be in order, but the future was all wrong. Everything was most certainly not in order.
“What’s going on Val?” Quinn asked as he stepped out of the elevator.
“I hoped you knew,” she replied. For nearly forty-five minutes the entire futurestream had been in flux. Events throughout the timeline were changing at an unprecedented rate. The probabilities of events were increasing and decreasing apparently at random.
“It looks like we have a security breach,” Quinn sighed.
“Sireesha?”
“I’m sure of it. She and Daniel are the only people who know enough about the system to have pulled off something like that.”
“But why now?”
Quinn shook his head. “They must be planning to do something. Something we would have noticed – so they disrupt the stream and we’re blind.”
“What do we do?” Valerie knew there would be no simple answer. The futurestream was a secret subsystem installed on all of their switches that nobody else understood. Quinn had distanced himself from the firmware development in recent releases. He couldn’t fix the problem and they both knew it.
Quinn exhaled. “We need to call Bryan,” he responded. There was a resignation in his voice that Valerie had never before heard. Quinn had never called for help with his own technology before. But the futurestream had never been compromised before.
Valerie raised her eyebrows, “Are you sure?”
“Yes. We have no options.”
“And tell him everything?” she asked.
“No,” Quinn responded sharply. “Right now we’ll have him search for a general security breach. Perhaps he can identify the attack without the details.”
Valerie nodded. “Do you trust him?”
Quinn chuckled. “He’s the best person we have.”
“That may be, but...”
“We may not have time to do anything else.”
Valerie shrugged. He was right.
“Do you think he’ll have a problem coming in today?” Quinn asked.
Valerie shook her head in disgust and her lips curled as she continued, “He’s already here. Looks like he slept here again.”
“Call him.”
Bryan had slept in the office. He had been working late then decided to catch a nap before going home. He was startled by the chime of his phone and fumbled to answer it. His shock grew when he heard Valerie’s voice on the other end of the line. He knew her voice well, but she hadn’t actually spoken to him for three years, two months and six days. The last thing she had said to him in person was, “Thank you.” He had held the elevator for her.
“Bryan,” she asked, “we need you up in the presidential suite as soon as possible.”
“Five minutes,” he replied.
“Thank you.”
Five minutes would be ample time for most people, but Bryan could barely make the elevators in that time. He straightened his shirt as he waddled through the corridors, huffing and cursing with each step.
It was six and a half minutes before he stepped out of the elevator. His face was red and beaded. He wiped his brow as he stepped into the main conference room. Quinn looked up as Bryan’s pungent body odor trailed him in and consumed the office.
“Sorry it took me so long,” Bryan huffed as he fell into a nearby conference chair.
“Not a problem,” Quinn responded as he tried to focus on his purpose. “I believe we have a security situation.”
Bryan’s face dropped. “Impossible,” he nearly shouted. “I mean, excuse me, I’m sorry ... I mean, what kind of situation?”
Quinn shook his head. “I’m not sure. I just have a very good reason to believe that the firmware on some or all of our switches may have been compromised.”
Bryan had assumed that Quinn had meant an internal network breach. The thought of an external breach caused his already strained heart to thump anew. He wouldn’t see the outside of the building for a long time. “How? When?”
“I don’t know how. But it started within the last hour.”
“What makes you think that something is wrong? At least one of my monitors should have sounded for any large-scale attack.”
“It may not be a large-scale attack. It may be very small. I just know that something isn’t right. I need you to run a complete diagnostic on as many of the switches as you can in the next hour and then let us know what you find.”
Bryan nodded. He felt queasy as he lumbered out of the conference room. His network had never been compromised before. A rush of anger coursed through him and he picked up his pace. If there were an attack, he would discover it. “Nobody hacks my system,” he wheezed.
Valerie searched Quinn’s face for any sign of his true state of mind. She could usually read his expressions, but this morning he was distant and disconnected.
“I’ve got to go,” Quinn started, “Today’s Jordan’s day.” He looked up at Val and smiled. His eyes reflected a longing that Valerie recognized. He had once told her that he wished for a simpler life – a life in which he could spend more time with his family, a life in which he could avoid weekend crises, a life like normal people have.
“I’ll keep you informed,” Valerie said.
“Are you still planning on coming?” Quinn asked. Jordan had always been close to Valerie. All the kids called her Auntie Val.
“I was planning to come, but we’ll see how this goes,” Valerie answered. She knew she could manage most everything remotely from the pageant, but she also knew that this was an unprecedented event that may require unprecedented action.
“Thanks, Val,” Quinn said as he stood to leave. He turned and looked at her. “Be careful. You may not be able to see what’s coming anymore.” Quinn hadn’t felt so disarmed and so helpless for years. He had relied on the futurestream for years. Without it, he felt powerless. Without it, he felt fear.
Before there was broadband Internet, I remember we used to actually have to watch the Superbowl to enjoy all the new commercials. Thanks now to the nearly ubiquitous availability of broadband (apologies to my father in law who still has dial up), we don't have to sit through an excruciatingly long football game to actually enjoy the fun of the advertisements. In fact now we can easily waste a little more of our employer's time and we can vote on which ads are the best.
They're all here on AOL Sports.
And while you're wasting time at work, read my book (free! online!) or comment on it.
BMW just got blacklisted at Google for manipulating its search engine rankings. BMW has a market cap of 24 billion euros and they're still apparently trying to get more exposure on Google.
The irony is that this lowly little blog and its associated sites (market cap $0.37) is getting more traffic than we know what to do with. Yesterday we hit a new record of 250,000 hits in a day.
So why do I bother mentioning this? Because most of my traffic is unfocused. If you're here and don't know why I'm here, read this to understand my idea. In a nutshell it is this: to give you a chance to test-drive a new book. Read it online, comment on it, and make it better for publication. How many other books have you read where you had an honest test-drive?
Without getting ahead of myself, I have received some exciting news about the possibility of publishing my first fiction book, The Agency Delta. Last week I was introduced to a literary agent through a mutual friend. I am definitely holding my breath.
I would like to ask you, if you're reading my book online, please comment on this post. It's easy (just click the comments link below) and it would very much help me out at this point. If you are reading or have read my book, please just give me a quick shout with your thoughts. It doesn't have to be a long comment, just a comment.
Thanks!
PS.: I just uploaded Chapter 42 of my book for those of you who are reading it.
Chapter 42
Saturday, 12 March 2022 – 7:30 p.m. SAST
Daniel pulled himself up from the steps. His phone rang. It was Sireesha.
“What just happened?” she asked without any introduction.
“Brad is dead,” Daniel said. His voice was subdued. All trace of arrogance was gone. “The African I hired to find him just shot him.”
“He was not supposed to die,” Sireesha cut in. Her voice was ice. There was no sound of remorse or emotion, just cold focused anger. “This was supposed to make things more predictable, not less.”
“I understand that. There was no reason ... his wife panicked ... she ran ... the African was there.” Daniel looked across the garden. The African lay sprawled on the dirt and gravel driveway.
“You need to take care of the mess you made there.”
“I will,” Daniel shot back. He didn’t like anyone speaking to him with such condescension. Sireesha generally treated everyone with a level of disdain, but Daniel felt an unusual level of it now. He responded with anger. “Let me finish my job. It will be handled.”
“And how are you going to handle the rest of this? What happened to the network?”
“He activated something ... he did it just before he died.”
“You said he had no network access,” Sireesha shouted.
“I said he had no modern wireless devices,” Daniel countered. It never occurred to him that Brad would still have some old-style connection to the net. He didn’t mention that. “I checked everything I could. It was hidden for a reason. He activated the device with an RF transmitter. I’ll find it and shut it down. It will be clean.”
Sireesha growled. “Keep me informed. I need to know exactly what he did as soon as you know.”
Daniel paused for a moment. So much information scrolled through his visual field that he was unable to concentrate. He looked at the information again then deactivated the view. He had to manage the immediate problem. The murders would be simple to cover. With the ongoing racial tension in South Africa, it would take very little effort to create a convincing robbery-gone-wrong scene. There would never be enough of an investigation to worry about ballistics or accuracy. He just needed to make it look real enough.
The exterior cleanup took a little more than half an hour. Daniel was meticulous about his work. When he had finished, he cleaned himself thoroughly and changed clothes. He then focused on the task of locating the network device that Brad had activated.
He spent nearly an hour tearing through the small house, finally locating the device in a closet adjacent to the master bedroom. It was nothing that he was expecting. A small box sat n the third shelf down from the top, between a small tin containing South African coins and a stack of paperback books. It had two input connectors, one for power and one for network. A small green status light blinked.
Daniel pulled the power and disconnected the network cable then shoved the device into his bag. He glanced around the closet for anything else then grabbed the network connection and followed it to ensure that it wasn’t connected to anything else.
He returned to the living room and made one last check ensuring that he hadn’t left any telling signs. He had been a bit too relaxed about this job. He would never admit that to Sireesha, but the truth of it gnawed him. He called Sireesha.
“I found it,” he reported.
“What is it?”
“I don’t know yet. I need to get somewhere that I can put it on a controlled network to see what it’s doing.”
“Can you do it from there?”
“I doubt it. It’s ancient. I’ll need some things that you can’t just go out and buy these days.” Daniel was amazed that Brad had been able to keep such an old device connected and functioning for so long.
“Can you at least shut it down until we know what’s happening?”
“I already have. I disconnected it immediately.”
Sireesha cursed in Hindi. There was a long pause before she continued. “Do you have any idea what he did?”
“None yet. I’ve had no time to look at it. But it could be so many things. This device could have simply been a trigger to a remote computer ... or it could have been a targeted attack on our switches ... I don’t know.” Daniel rarely found himself in a defensive position, especially as related to networking or software. He always had the answer. But this was unprecedented. Everything had changed in an instant and he was completely unable to explain it.
“I thought our switches were invulnerable to outside attacks.”
“They are,” Daniel barked. Then a light clicked in his mind as he continued, almost whispering, “Unless you have inside information...” He trailed off.
“Get back here as quickly as possible. You need to make this right,” Sireesha ordered. “Is there anything else?”
“No.” Daniel disconnected the call. He re-activated his visual implant and searched the information. Nothing had changed since he had disconnected the device. He quickly searched for any trace of a network attack. Nothing was immediately apparent.
He jumped on his bike and returned to Durban.
We saw Nanny McPhee this weekend. It was fantastic. I'm going to say that Nanny McPhee will be the best fun family movie of the year. It was funny and nice, a perfect mix for kids and adults -- just plain great. Emma Thompson did an amazing job as did the kids. 2π.
I also watched The Brothers Grimm from my Netflix.com queue this weekend. This is a fantasy with hooks into just about every Grimm fairytale that I can remember. I really enjoyed Matt Damon's role, though I didn't really expect to like it since I see him primarily as Jason Bourne. Some parts of the dialog were very hard to understand, and some sequences were a little disjointed, but if you just want to sit on the couch and enjoy a movie, this is a good pick. 1.5π.
So, you're reading my blog. There are some of you who actually got here on purpose. That's unusual, but I thank you for that. Hopefully you'll find something funny to read. I recommend my short stories (start at the bottom of the list, they've gotten better over time, I think).
Most of you are here by accident. You either found one of my Google Homepage modules, or you searched for Heightmax on Google (that's the most common search word that leads here), or you just got lucky and ended up here. Thank you. Unfortunately if you happen to be looking for real information about Heightmax, you're out of luck, but never mind, enjoy some time here instead. You might get taller just by reading this blog.
So, why do I want you to be here? To read my book. Why do I want you to read my book? So you'll talk about it. Why do I want you to talk about it? So it will get published.
Don't have time to read a book? Think again. My book is broken into chapters that are so short, you'll actually save time each day (not really), and so interesting that you'll come back tomorrow just to read another chapter. And when you do, you'll tell your brother in Des Moines and your uncle in Fort Collins about my book. And they'll tell their colleagues in Budapest, Rigby and Fort Worth. And eventually so many people will be discussing my book that either I'll get a publishing deal or the Universe will implode (theoretically). That's why I want you to be here. Now read. If you don't, you won't know what everybody is talking about next week.
Thanks,
Blake
Chapter 41
Saturday, 12 March 2022 – 7:30 p.m. SAST
Ramesh had finally fallen asleep again. He was exhausted, but his fear of flying, the stress of recent events and the general discomfort of his seat made it nearly impossible to rest.
A green light flashed in his head. It was a subtle indicator, but in the hazy consciousness between sleeping and waking, it was extraordinarily annoying. Ramesh tossed in his chair, trying to eliminate the light from his line of sight. No matter what he did, the flashing continued. He awoke.
The light was a message indicator. He thought that he had deactivated the visual implants, but he had apparently done something wrong. He accepted the message. It was from Quinn.
Ramesh, something has happened. We are still trying to determine the exact nature of the problem, but for now you may find unusual results in the futurestream. Contact us if you must use it. Will message you later with status.
Ramesh stared at the message for a moment. He considered a reply, but realized that he had nothing relevant to ask or add. He would wait.
He looked at his watch. He would be arriving in Durban in three hours, making it nearly eleven p.m. local time when he arrived. He regretted that he had effectively lost two days just for travel, but he looked forward to seeing Brad.
As he thought of Brad and their friendship, a dark anxiety poured over him. He brushed off the sense, knowing that he would feel better on the ground.
