After Gene R. Raaantogram had left, Monica walked over to one of the communication hubs she’d installed all over the facility. She input Giorgio’s extension.
“Come down for your upload,” she said.
“Is he gone?” Came the reply from Gio.
“Yeah, you were right. We’re going to have to use plan B.”
“Okay I’ll be right down to talk about it.”
Five minutes later Gio was plugged into the revosucker trying to acquire knowledge pertaining to the cannibalistic peoples of the world.
“So do you think we should start with his job or his family?” Giorgio giggled a little after his question as images and text about the horrific things the builders of Easter Island were forced to do after all the birds went extinct funneled through his brain stem and into his brain.
Monica sat cross-legged on the floor next to the device, head in hands, eyes closed.
“I still can’t believe our goodcop/badcop didn’t work on him. I thought we had that one down. I studied the full archive on police shows before he got here… You did make sure to threaten him didn’t you Gio?”
Giorgio was watching/feeling/learning how to shrink a human head.
“Of course I threatened him Moni! And I was sure we had him too, you should have seen the fear in his eyes…Right now we need to focus on getting Sal out, but I would imagine that if Gene loses everything while the world’s internet appears to be crashing, he’ll be in a better place to accept opportunities during his next interview.”
“That’s true,” said Monica, “but I say we take his job and family on the same day, after we re-proposition him.”
“I love it,” said Giorgio gaining all the knowledge required to put someone on a spit without losing the juicy organs.
Friday, November 20, 2009
Friday, November 13, 2009
Gene to AG: The (new) Assigner
http://nanotexts.blogspot.com/2009/11/waiting-room-day-four-results-1.html
This office and the lives ended here were not what typically came to mind when he was here. It was his first entry into this room that still haunted him. When things were different and so was he. Not yet Anagram Generator, but Gene R. Raaantogram. On that day he was running late, trying to get home to his wife and new son, Gene, Jr. The day had started out pleasant enough, but a dead battery stalled him in his tracks, fixing his tires to the pounded pavement. Thick cumulonimbi blocked any chance of charge from the sun.He cursed the rotten electro-swiper who most likely had used the power on some little suped-up hot mod to terrorize the pedestrians. Didn't they realize he had places to be?Just as he stepped out of the car, a junky looking Volvo pulled up beside him."Do you like the Violent Femmes?"The driver was wearing a battered brown jacket and a winning smile. Gene R. Raaantogram was confused. Who was this strange man with this strange internal combustion vehicle? Where did he come from? Where does he buy gasoline? He hesitated, but the driver gave him a reassuring nod and popped the passenger door."You're going home, right?""Ye-yes?""Thought so. This is Louise," he said, giving the dashboard a pat, "and I'll be your driver today. Sit back and relax and we'll have you there in no time. How's Gene Jr.?""Wha? How do you know all this?" Gene was instinctively reaching for the door handle. It was locked."It's my job to know," the driver says casually."But how? Why is this door locked?""That doesn't matter now, you've got a job interview to get to!""I thought you were taking me home, you said you were." Gene was getting scared."Easy there buddy. NO I'm not a kidnapper, NO there aren't any people on the way to yer house. I'm sorry man, but frankly noone is interested in your wife like that but you...Look you can just consider me an agent of a power that's higher than you are. NO I'm not talking about "god". Just calm down, yes I'm reading your mind. You need to stop asking questions, even if they aren't with yer mouth- Let's start at the beginning, You can call me Hank."Suddenly the smile vanishes. His eyes narrow and his right hand quickly goes to the inside of his brown jacket."He's my ride Viv." said the cabbie in a low clear voice. "Besides, I don't think he's your type."A soft laughter surrounds me. It's a woman's, but not one that I recognize. I spin around - but no one's there. The laugh grows louder, setting the hairs on the back of my neck on edge. I look back to the cabbie when suddenly I feel her next to me. Her hand is on my shoulder - nails gently raking my shirt collar. She leans in and I can smell lavender and bleach on her breath."Can you believe that he's still driving this piece of shit?" she whispers."Back off Viv," the cabbie warns, "I wouldn't want you to break a nail."She laughs again and moves in front of me, blocking my view of the Volvo. She's wearing a black cat suit and has a Glock holstered to her thigh."I must be going mad. This can't be happening to me. What is happening to...""I told you to stop asking questions, even if they're just in your head!" Hank spat at me.I am frightened. I am trying to not ask any more questions, but my mind is still racing. Racing down the wrong way of a one-way street. I need to regulate my breathing and keep a track of my heart rate. Don't ask any questions Gene, don't think any questions. Just turn everything off.I had lost the feeling in my feet. I can feel the nerves all shutting down in my body. I begin to panic, my mind begins to race. Don't ask any questions Gene, don't think any questions. It's okay, everything is just turning off."It helps if you sing along." Hank offered."Come again?""With the song, just listen to it for a bit and sing along--it is really hard to keep singing and thinking at the same time. At least it is for most people."We shoot off at excessive speeds. It strikes me that the Volvo runs surprisingly well for a POS. Smooth like this ride. I have this sense of not belonging. The World oblivious to our presence. Pedestrians whiz by, unknowing that a madman is at the wheel. So many stop lights avoided. Is he giving the road his full attention? And then I notice. A stoplight. It's yellow and far off."Single pointed attention ya know?""yeah-" was my only rebuttle, thoughtless paranoia- the unseen, unthought embrace by some vicious coniving heart..""Let it go mate, what do you feel about that music, beats running circles in your head. Could have a bit of generic conversation if you fancy that."The nerves once trusted were panicked and firing neurons all mixed up, stuttering thoughts somehow landed on a baseball-"Have you got money on Phillies for Yanks this year Gene?" uttered Hank."I...I..." was all that escaped my lips. Even though he could read my mind, it was all he could understand of me as well."What? Speak up!" Hank spat at me again."I...I..." was all that was in my head. I had stopped thinking. There were no songs to sing. No thoughts to think. Nothing. All I saw was that yellow light turn red as we raced toward it. I kept my eye on the light, nothing else.Hank became flustered, not able to understand anything I was saying or thinking. He turned to me and began shouting. I couldn't hear anything. All I could see was that red light as we raced beneath it.I started to scream wordlessly as our white blur flashed through the intersection causing cars that had just started to move to honk and screech to a halt. The acceleration was starting to get to me, the gees pulling me back against my seat. Hank, however seemed unaffected."Get a grip on yerself Gene, you'll want to be sharp for the interview- Viv, get him some better clothes!"As Hank addressed Viv again I realized that in my panic/confusion I'd not noticed that she'd disappeared again. Turning around towards the back seat my peripherals catch her rematerializing from translucent to solid. Now she's wearing a nurses outfit, clearly of the fetish variety as it appears to be some sort of latex. The glock has been replaced with an oversized a hunting knife strapped to her thigh. She uses a fist to whack the door panel and out pops a secret compartment that’s got a three piece suit hanging in it.“I’ve never guessed wrong on mens sizes, but you’ll have to embrace my fashion sense Gene, because our research indicates you’ve got none,” she says handing me a fresh blue buttondown oxford shirt.
http://donyonda.blogspot.com/2009/11/day-6.html
As Viv hands me the shirt, I find myself trying to restrain the questions again. This is helped by my amazement that the shirt does indeed fit."Of course it fits," laughs Hank, "weren't ya listening to her?""He's still in shock Hank- be nice."I decide to test Hank's abilities to get inside my head. I need to ask a question, just one question. So I try to keep the Femmes singing in my head as I ask, "Can you tell me where we're going yet?"Hank turns around, taking his eyes completely off the road and completely into mine. "That trick doesn't work if you have to plan it out in your head, stupid. But I tell you what, since you've reduced your unnecessary questions down to only one and since I'm liking your rendition of that song--I'll let Viv explain, Viv.""You
have been summoned to have a meeting with a very powerful man who's getting close to retirement," she says. "Don't stop dressing, we're getting close." I was caught by surprise. Could Viv ream my mind as well, or did Hank project my thoughts into her mind? I'm nervous and I begin to fumble with my shirt. I haven't realized that the buttons are all messed up. I have one button too many on the bottom of the shirt, and one hole to many on the top. I'm getting frustrated. I'm getting nervous. There is so much going on and I need answers. I try to sing the song in my head but I've forgotten all of the words. I begin to cry. I see Hank turn around and say something to me, but I can't hear him. He knows what is going on in my mind, but now I don't know what he is trying to tell me. Viv undoes my shirt and begins to dress me appropriately. "Don't worry, you just need to calm down," she tells me. I can't help but feel overwhelmed by her touch. Her nails are long and red, like her lipstick, her hands are smooth and her touch is graceful. As she continues to button my shirt I feel the blood rushing down. She looks at me, I begin to blush. "Don't flatter yourself. You're just another man and I'm an expensive woman. If you don't calm down, I'll kill you." I'm not sure what she just said to me, But I can't help the urges I begin to feel. Her hands are now grasping my inner thigh. She pulls something from behind her ear. It is small and green. "Don't worry, these are just to help calm your mind." I'm not sure what she said, but she leans toward me, face first. She opens her lips and I open mine. Before our lips touch, she drops the thing she pulled from behind her ear, perhaps a pill or a drug, I'm not certain, into my mouth. She then kisses me, hard and fast, with her tongue down my throat. She was forcing this thing down my throat with her tongue. I know I should've stopped her, but I couldn't stop. I enjoyed the position I found myself in too much. I'm not sure when we got to our destination, or when Hand stopped driving. I'm not sure when Viv stopped kissing me either. All I know is that we were here and I had no questions left to ask. "Remember you have a wife and a kid waiting for you at home." If I ever get home. That was where I had been trying to get to before all this started happening to me."Typical man, thinks it is just happening to him--but that is always the case isn't it?" Viv added.Hank shot Viv a look. Their two sets of eyes locked as though a long painful history was being recounted silently. Viv's breathing quickened and she turned her head away."Well Gene, there's your door." Hank said, pointing at the building before us. The drugs were still slightly affecting me. I know this because the door in front of me should have been more terrifying, I know it was later.As I stared at it looking for a handle, there was the sound of an automated bolt sliding. A metallic voice said, "ENTER" as the door slid.Behind the door was a hallway going straight back at least fifty yards. The walls were lined with doors, each had a white blinking light above it.The metallic voice spoke again,from everywhere and nowhere."MR. RAAANTOGRAM, MR. JIMENEZ WILL SEE YOU IN THE GREEN ROOM." The lights above the doors start to blink in all colors of the rainbow, cycling. I spot a green light and begin to chase it down the hall.
http://donyonda.blogspot.com/2009/11/day-10-i-think.html
"Go get em!" Yells Hank with a sudden laugh. The green light stays a few doors ahead of me as the hallway gradually curves to the right and down. I pick up speed, hurtling downhill as the angle of the floor increases. If I can just go a little faster... but no, the light keeps pace with me, remaining a door or two beyond my reach. I glance back over my shoulder for a second to see how far I've come, and immediately run full speed into a door at the end of the hall. How the hell did that get there? There was nothing but hallway a second ago, and yet here it is, solid, a bright green light above it. I pick myself up off the floor and reach for the handle. As I open the door I am blinded by a white light. There seem to be spotlights all around the room that are trained on the door. Raising my hand to shade my face, I make out the silhouette of a man sitting behind one of them in a chair."Welcome Gene!" By this point I am not surprised, everyone knows my name and I will just be in the dark—whatever Viv pushed into me works well. “Allow me to introduce myself, I am Giorgio Jimenz.”The introduction was a pure formality. Everyone knew of the Jimenz family, with the brothers Salvatore and Giorgio, their sister Monica, and the grand patriarch of the family… Sebastiano. The Jimenz family were the exception to the changing times. While most people’s fortunes we radially altered by the crash they only became slowly and steadily more powerful and influential. “Nice to meet you, sir.” “I imagine you are wondering why you find yourself here? Let me explain for many years alongside my other business in the world in charge of the operation that you see here before you. I know it may not look like much but let me explain ...We are in the midst of a serious transistion Gene. As hard as it may seem to believe, the era of the Bearers is nearly at an end. I know this because my brother, Salvatore, the head of the Bearers, is sick--he doesn't have long. I have access to much... Well, let me rephrase that, I have access to ALL information. You could say it sort of...runs in the family. Regardless of my power the important thing for you to know is that I am in the process of my own retirement. Which brings us to why you're here.For some time now, Monica, my sister, and I have been putting the final touches on an organization that is to be more powerful then the Bearers ever were.You see Gene, the time for bearing has passed. What the world needs now is an assignment..."
http://donyonda.blogspot.com/2009/11/day-11-continuing-from-day-10.html
"And that is where you come in, Gene. What the Bearers failed to take advantage of is the assignment of knowledge. My brother (my whole family, for that matter) understands well the power associated with information. When the internet was first created, we realised it's potential for hoarding the collected knowledge. 'Bearing,' if you will. We also realised the potential for power this created. Anyone who wanted to know anything would have come to us. Governments, corporations, powerful people the world over would be beholden to us! Where my family and I disagreed is in the applicaion of knowledge. The Bearers locked it away, but then what? Does a sword in the sheath have any power? Yes, it can intimidate, pacify, that is true. But a sword to the throat can dominate, enslave, cower the strongest of foes. Gene, what they failed to understand is that knowledge is a weapon. I intend to use it."
[day 12 still from the above]
"Look, I don't mean to interrupt your maniacal monologue, but I've had a very confusing day. Can you just tell me why I was brought here? That cabbie Hank said it was some kind of job interview, but I'm already gainfully employed and I think I may still be under the influence of some drug given to me by a smoking hot ghost or something." "Excellent. All of our data on you suggested you were a man with a propensity for the direct." Giorgio smiled as he continued "What this position offers is well beyond gainful employment. Let's just say you won't ever have to worry about your car not charging in the morning.""You mean Hank and Viv are going to pick me up each day?" Gene asked."No the cabbie and Viv are only for special occasions. What I am offering you is the sort of position where money would be no object for you."
[day 13 still from the above]
"No object, you say? I assume that's to be followed with a list of creepy tasks or something...""Very good Gene," Giorgio was laughing. "I wouldn't exactly use the word evil, but what we do here does have a tendency to startle the weak minded. You see, this is a data consolidation factory, you may have heard of them before... Basically the problem with data is that the majority if it exists within people."Gene squintshrugged, "So what, you conduct alot of interviews or something?"Giorgio was laughing again. "It's not that simple Gene. Maybe it's best if I show you."
This office and the lives ended here were not what typically came to mind when he was here. It was his first entry into this room that still haunted him. When things were different and so was he. Not yet Anagram Generator, but Gene R. Raaantogram. On that day he was running late, trying to get home to his wife and new son, Gene, Jr. The day had started out pleasant enough, but a dead battery stalled him in his tracks, fixing his tires to the pounded pavement. Thick cumulonimbi blocked any chance of charge from the sun.He cursed the rotten electro-swiper who most likely had used the power on some little suped-up hot mod to terrorize the pedestrians. Didn't they realize he had places to be?Just as he stepped out of the car, a junky looking Volvo pulled up beside him."Do you like the Violent Femmes?"The driver was wearing a battered brown jacket and a winning smile. Gene R. Raaantogram was confused. Who was this strange man with this strange internal combustion vehicle? Where did he come from? Where does he buy gasoline? He hesitated, but the driver gave him a reassuring nod and popped the passenger door."You're going home, right?""Ye-yes?""Thought so. This is Louise," he said, giving the dashboard a pat, "and I'll be your driver today. Sit back and relax and we'll have you there in no time. How's Gene Jr.?""Wha? How do you know all this?" Gene was instinctively reaching for the door handle. It was locked."It's my job to know," the driver says casually."But how? Why is this door locked?""That doesn't matter now, you've got a job interview to get to!""I thought you were taking me home, you said you were." Gene was getting scared."Easy there buddy. NO I'm not a kidnapper, NO there aren't any people on the way to yer house. I'm sorry man, but frankly noone is interested in your wife like that but you...Look you can just consider me an agent of a power that's higher than you are. NO I'm not talking about "god". Just calm down, yes I'm reading your mind. You need to stop asking questions, even if they aren't with yer mouth- Let's start at the beginning, You can call me Hank."Suddenly the smile vanishes. His eyes narrow and his right hand quickly goes to the inside of his brown jacket."He's my ride Viv." said the cabbie in a low clear voice. "Besides, I don't think he's your type."A soft laughter surrounds me. It's a woman's, but not one that I recognize. I spin around - but no one's there. The laugh grows louder, setting the hairs on the back of my neck on edge. I look back to the cabbie when suddenly I feel her next to me. Her hand is on my shoulder - nails gently raking my shirt collar. She leans in and I can smell lavender and bleach on her breath."Can you believe that he's still driving this piece of shit?" she whispers."Back off Viv," the cabbie warns, "I wouldn't want you to break a nail."She laughs again and moves in front of me, blocking my view of the Volvo. She's wearing a black cat suit and has a Glock holstered to her thigh."I must be going mad. This can't be happening to me. What is happening to...""I told you to stop asking questions, even if they're just in your head!" Hank spat at me.I am frightened. I am trying to not ask any more questions, but my mind is still racing. Racing down the wrong way of a one-way street. I need to regulate my breathing and keep a track of my heart rate. Don't ask any questions Gene, don't think any questions. Just turn everything off.I had lost the feeling in my feet. I can feel the nerves all shutting down in my body. I begin to panic, my mind begins to race. Don't ask any questions Gene, don't think any questions. It's okay, everything is just turning off."It helps if you sing along." Hank offered."Come again?""With the song, just listen to it for a bit and sing along--it is really hard to keep singing and thinking at the same time. At least it is for most people."We shoot off at excessive speeds. It strikes me that the Volvo runs surprisingly well for a POS. Smooth like this ride. I have this sense of not belonging. The World oblivious to our presence. Pedestrians whiz by, unknowing that a madman is at the wheel. So many stop lights avoided. Is he giving the road his full attention? And then I notice. A stoplight. It's yellow and far off."Single pointed attention ya know?""yeah-" was my only rebuttle, thoughtless paranoia- the unseen, unthought embrace by some vicious coniving heart..""Let it go mate, what do you feel about that music, beats running circles in your head. Could have a bit of generic conversation if you fancy that."The nerves once trusted were panicked and firing neurons all mixed up, stuttering thoughts somehow landed on a baseball-"Have you got money on Phillies for Yanks this year Gene?" uttered Hank."I...I..." was all that escaped my lips. Even though he could read my mind, it was all he could understand of me as well."What? Speak up!" Hank spat at me again."I...I..." was all that was in my head. I had stopped thinking. There were no songs to sing. No thoughts to think. Nothing. All I saw was that yellow light turn red as we raced toward it. I kept my eye on the light, nothing else.Hank became flustered, not able to understand anything I was saying or thinking. He turned to me and began shouting. I couldn't hear anything. All I could see was that red light as we raced beneath it.I started to scream wordlessly as our white blur flashed through the intersection causing cars that had just started to move to honk and screech to a halt. The acceleration was starting to get to me, the gees pulling me back against my seat. Hank, however seemed unaffected."Get a grip on yerself Gene, you'll want to be sharp for the interview- Viv, get him some better clothes!"As Hank addressed Viv again I realized that in my panic/confusion I'd not noticed that she'd disappeared again. Turning around towards the back seat my peripherals catch her rematerializing from translucent to solid. Now she's wearing a nurses outfit, clearly of the fetish variety as it appears to be some sort of latex. The glock has been replaced with an oversized a hunting knife strapped to her thigh. She uses a fist to whack the door panel and out pops a secret compartment that’s got a three piece suit hanging in it.“I’ve never guessed wrong on mens sizes, but you’ll have to embrace my fashion sense Gene, because our research indicates you’ve got none,” she says handing me a fresh blue buttondown oxford shirt.
http://donyonda.blogspot.com/2009/11/day-6.html
As Viv hands me the shirt, I find myself trying to restrain the questions again. This is helped by my amazement that the shirt does indeed fit."Of course it fits," laughs Hank, "weren't ya listening to her?""He's still in shock Hank- be nice."I decide to test Hank's abilities to get inside my head. I need to ask a question, just one question. So I try to keep the Femmes singing in my head as I ask, "Can you tell me where we're going yet?"Hank turns around, taking his eyes completely off the road and completely into mine. "That trick doesn't work if you have to plan it out in your head, stupid. But I tell you what, since you've reduced your unnecessary questions down to only one and since I'm liking your rendition of that song--I'll let Viv explain, Viv.""You
have been summoned to have a meeting with a very powerful man who's getting close to retirement," she says. "Don't stop dressing, we're getting close." I was caught by surprise. Could Viv ream my mind as well, or did Hank project my thoughts into her mind? I'm nervous and I begin to fumble with my shirt. I haven't realized that the buttons are all messed up. I have one button too many on the bottom of the shirt, and one hole to many on the top. I'm getting frustrated. I'm getting nervous. There is so much going on and I need answers. I try to sing the song in my head but I've forgotten all of the words. I begin to cry. I see Hank turn around and say something to me, but I can't hear him. He knows what is going on in my mind, but now I don't know what he is trying to tell me. Viv undoes my shirt and begins to dress me appropriately. "Don't worry, you just need to calm down," she tells me. I can't help but feel overwhelmed by her touch. Her nails are long and red, like her lipstick, her hands are smooth and her touch is graceful. As she continues to button my shirt I feel the blood rushing down. She looks at me, I begin to blush. "Don't flatter yourself. You're just another man and I'm an expensive woman. If you don't calm down, I'll kill you." I'm not sure what she just said to me, But I can't help the urges I begin to feel. Her hands are now grasping my inner thigh. She pulls something from behind her ear. It is small and green. "Don't worry, these are just to help calm your mind." I'm not sure what she said, but she leans toward me, face first. She opens her lips and I open mine. Before our lips touch, she drops the thing she pulled from behind her ear, perhaps a pill or a drug, I'm not certain, into my mouth. She then kisses me, hard and fast, with her tongue down my throat. She was forcing this thing down my throat with her tongue. I know I should've stopped her, but I couldn't stop. I enjoyed the position I found myself in too much. I'm not sure when we got to our destination, or when Hand stopped driving. I'm not sure when Viv stopped kissing me either. All I know is that we were here and I had no questions left to ask. "Remember you have a wife and a kid waiting for you at home." If I ever get home. That was where I had been trying to get to before all this started happening to me."Typical man, thinks it is just happening to him--but that is always the case isn't it?" Viv added.Hank shot Viv a look. Their two sets of eyes locked as though a long painful history was being recounted silently. Viv's breathing quickened and she turned her head away."Well Gene, there's your door." Hank said, pointing at the building before us. The drugs were still slightly affecting me. I know this because the door in front of me should have been more terrifying, I know it was later.As I stared at it looking for a handle, there was the sound of an automated bolt sliding. A metallic voice said, "ENTER" as the door slid.Behind the door was a hallway going straight back at least fifty yards. The walls were lined with doors, each had a white blinking light above it.The metallic voice spoke again,from everywhere and nowhere."MR. RAAANTOGRAM, MR. JIMENEZ WILL SEE YOU IN THE GREEN ROOM." The lights above the doors start to blink in all colors of the rainbow, cycling. I spot a green light and begin to chase it down the hall.
http://donyonda.blogspot.com/2009/11/day-10-i-think.html
"Go get em!" Yells Hank with a sudden laugh. The green light stays a few doors ahead of me as the hallway gradually curves to the right and down. I pick up speed, hurtling downhill as the angle of the floor increases. If I can just go a little faster... but no, the light keeps pace with me, remaining a door or two beyond my reach. I glance back over my shoulder for a second to see how far I've come, and immediately run full speed into a door at the end of the hall. How the hell did that get there? There was nothing but hallway a second ago, and yet here it is, solid, a bright green light above it. I pick myself up off the floor and reach for the handle. As I open the door I am blinded by a white light. There seem to be spotlights all around the room that are trained on the door. Raising my hand to shade my face, I make out the silhouette of a man sitting behind one of them in a chair."Welcome Gene!" By this point I am not surprised, everyone knows my name and I will just be in the dark—whatever Viv pushed into me works well. “Allow me to introduce myself, I am Giorgio Jimenz.”The introduction was a pure formality. Everyone knew of the Jimenz family, with the brothers Salvatore and Giorgio, their sister Monica, and the grand patriarch of the family… Sebastiano. The Jimenz family were the exception to the changing times. While most people’s fortunes we radially altered by the crash they only became slowly and steadily more powerful and influential. “Nice to meet you, sir.” “I imagine you are wondering why you find yourself here? Let me explain for many years alongside my other business in the world in charge of the operation that you see here before you. I know it may not look like much but let me explain ...We are in the midst of a serious transistion Gene. As hard as it may seem to believe, the era of the Bearers is nearly at an end. I know this because my brother, Salvatore, the head of the Bearers, is sick--he doesn't have long. I have access to much... Well, let me rephrase that, I have access to ALL information. You could say it sort of...runs in the family. Regardless of my power the important thing for you to know is that I am in the process of my own retirement. Which brings us to why you're here.For some time now, Monica, my sister, and I have been putting the final touches on an organization that is to be more powerful then the Bearers ever were.You see Gene, the time for bearing has passed. What the world needs now is an assignment..."
http://donyonda.blogspot.com/2009/11/day-11-continuing-from-day-10.html
"And that is where you come in, Gene. What the Bearers failed to take advantage of is the assignment of knowledge. My brother (my whole family, for that matter) understands well the power associated with information. When the internet was first created, we realised it's potential for hoarding the collected knowledge. 'Bearing,' if you will. We also realised the potential for power this created. Anyone who wanted to know anything would have come to us. Governments, corporations, powerful people the world over would be beholden to us! Where my family and I disagreed is in the applicaion of knowledge. The Bearers locked it away, but then what? Does a sword in the sheath have any power? Yes, it can intimidate, pacify, that is true. But a sword to the throat can dominate, enslave, cower the strongest of foes. Gene, what they failed to understand is that knowledge is a weapon. I intend to use it."
[day 12 still from the above]
"Look, I don't mean to interrupt your maniacal monologue, but I've had a very confusing day. Can you just tell me why I was brought here? That cabbie Hank said it was some kind of job interview, but I'm already gainfully employed and I think I may still be under the influence of some drug given to me by a smoking hot ghost or something." "Excellent. All of our data on you suggested you were a man with a propensity for the direct." Giorgio smiled as he continued "What this position offers is well beyond gainful employment. Let's just say you won't ever have to worry about your car not charging in the morning.""You mean Hank and Viv are going to pick me up each day?" Gene asked."No the cabbie and Viv are only for special occasions. What I am offering you is the sort of position where money would be no object for you."
[day 13 still from the above]
"No object, you say? I assume that's to be followed with a list of creepy tasks or something...""Very good Gene," Giorgio was laughing. "I wouldn't exactly use the word evil, but what we do here does have a tendency to startle the weak minded. You see, this is a data consolidation factory, you may have heard of them before... Basically the problem with data is that the majority if it exists within people."Gene squintshrugged, "So what, you conduct alot of interviews or something?"Giorgio was laughing again. "It's not that simple Gene. Maybe it's best if I show you."
Thursday, November 12, 2009
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
Syt's Speech continued
["Esteemed council members, I am honored to be here before you today. In the history of the world, there have been sudden changes. The shift from hunter-gatherer societies to argriculture based ones is one that many refer when comparing to our own present situation. However what those periods lacked in comparison to today is a relationship to meaning and meaning making.
We constantly play at pretending to make meaning. This play has become more and more important over the past half century. But what has happened to meaning itself?
I urge the council to consider the problems that have already arisen just from people taking search engines as infallible-- We've already started to lose words from the various services providing scores of conflicting definitions.
And the printed reference has been shown to be in decline since the 2020s, if this amendment should pass & the remaining books are consolidated under this "Bearer" group, these conflicted definitions will be all we have until the words are totally extinct.]
...
Friday, November 6, 2009
The Waiting Room Day 6 Blog 3
(continuing from Day 5--Syt's UN speech, http://nanotexts.blogspot.com/2009/11/wating-room-day-5-year-is-2035.html)
Standing at the podium under the lights and cameras (and action) did nothing to shake Syt's confidence that this was the right thing to do. Evelyn's earlier attempts to stop him were already gone from his mind. But just as he's about to begin he spots Evelyn standing in the back of the room with Vivian. He almost chokes on his opening words under Viv's gaze...
Thursday, November 5, 2009
The Waiting Room Day 5 Blog 3
The Bearer's Failings
[2035--the eve of Syt Candella's speech to the UN]
Salvatore Jimenez had called a meeting with his secondincommand, Gustavo Rallinsocka. He was in his study waiting for Rallinsocka to arrive. The fire was blazing but still he felt a chill.
Salvatore was worried that this speech might sway the world. He knew that people looked up to Candella's values and took them as their own. He knew, even before it happened, that Candella would refuse his bribe. He knew all this, but still, he could taste the power that would be his if he had his way. As head of the Bearers, all the knowledge of the world could be under his control. Jimenez would literally drool at the idea that anything could be released as a payperview excerpt with commercial advertising imbedded. The idea that, if this went through, he would be the only one to know the actual truth.
Sitting in his chair he contemplated all the potential for rewriting Shakespeare to release to a select few scholars (who would be overjoyed just thinking they'd been given access to something), if only so that he could think of himself as the singular being to actually know what "old bill" had written so long ago...
There was a brief doubleknock at his chamber door as Rallinsocka entered.
"Have a seat Gustavo, we have much to discuss."
"Sure thing boss," said Rallinsocka taking a seat opposite Salvatore
"I've got a job for you."
"What kind of job ya thinking boss?"
"I want you to sneak TVs to the Luddite youth-- I need you to use Candella's speech to stir them up, get them angry."
"But I thought you didn't even want Candella's speech to happen?"
"That doesn't matter now. It's one thing I can't control... The new plan is to use his own speech against him, noone will see it coming, least of all him."
Wednesday, November 4, 2009
NaNoWriMo Posse: THINGS WE’VE ESTABLISHED:
Section 1 (Day 1 & 2) :
Underling of AG (Charles)
Starts @ 350th day post internet (Nano/AS)
Tech is breaking down, see CLOCK (Kilroy)
Our character is tired of superficial magazines. Metaphor for perfection? (Ace / Ceph)
Society has become stupid, see valuing of picturetexts (AS)
The Assigners possess most remaining knowledge (Prof)
AG is boss Assigner (nano)
Aside from crumbling city (AS), upheavals are still happening (Face)
Section 35= N. Perimeter of old city, Point Bachir, the "rogue" sector
Our character hates his/her boss/job
Sparse population density/contact, see garbage (prof)
There are directives that are meant to be followed (wriv)
Our character chews gum (kil/red)
STUFF/ENTITIES: Scions, Directives, Hydro-emissive generator (router), THE trophy (blue cube...)
Section 2 :
NEW CHARACTER (2ndfollowed) : [UNK] is programmed to have an anomaly on every 16th day of the month @ 10:52 (ceph)
the anomaly begins w/ physical convulsions & spasming (Ace)
The year is 2042 (AS)
Section 3:
Blog [Hank is driving "the data collector", a {UNK} woman searching for an anomaly in the pattern]
Day 4 :
Blog: [Gene R. Raaantogram is picked up by Hank for "job interview" (leading to "the office"); Viv is tagged along- uneasy relationship w/ Hank (work partners?). ...
Hank=mindreading cabbie / Viv=able to go inviso and/or dematerialize [potential former relationship w/ Syt... SHE MIGHT BE A GHOST]
Volvo is out of place yet phillies & yankies still around [HOW FAR PRE-CRASH IS THIS TIME PERIOD?]
Plurk: SYT CANDELLA (writing postcrash)
in opposistion to Assigners, trying to keep knowledge alive, secret library, tattooing key documents of human culture on self, guilty for his role in crash.
Day 5 (not thorough):
1. Syt's UN speech--2035 (7 years prior to anomaly character postcrash.... THE YEAR OF THE CRASH IS STILL UNQUANTIFIED)
2. Postcrash... name changes, back to [UNK] "data collector"
3. Syt's rivals the (pre) BEARERS--2035 plot against Syt's intentions //Salvatore Jimenez & Gustavo Rallinsocka
4. post crash... stimulator
5. AG's employee, Charles [original character 1?]
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