Tuesday, February 24, 2015

The Same Old News

I used to think that the purpose of the News was to tell us what's new.

I've gotten over it.

The purpose of the News is to remind us of what is old.

I have some perspective on this, you see. We moved here from out of state about 25 years ago. Everything was new, including all the local news casters, so it is easy for me to affix a time for stories from that period of my life.

This morning, our local announcer, Bill, was reading a story about theft from mailboxes in the small town we first moved to. I'm thinking - 'yea, nothing changes'. Bill affirms this by saying that it's not a new story. I'm thinking 'You tell 'em Bill', and he goes on to say the reports of this crime go back 2 years.

What? Try 25 years - and more, in all likely hood. Cause I remember the same story in the same small town on the same new channel from that time period. Just a different announcer is all, reading the same old news.

Saturday, May 31, 2014

The Programmer Dream

Once upon a time, I, Dark Ood, dreamt I was a programmer, writing code here and there, to all intents and purposes, a programmer. I was conscious only of my happiness as a programmer, unaware that I was Dark Ood. Soon I awaked, and there I was, veritably myself again. Now I do not know whether I was then a developer dreaming I was a programmer, or whether I am now a programmer, dreaming I am a developer.

Apologies to Chuang Tse.

Saturday, April 26, 2014

Bosco - Hooked on Hooker

"How much longer do we have to go", I asked. It seemed like we'd been following the hallway for hours.

"What?"

"Bosco, are you paying any attention to where we're going?"

"What?"

"Damn it, open your eyes - you're watching T.J. Hooker reruns again, aren't you." TV reruns were the sirens song for holos. They can watch them anytime they want. But they have to close their eyes to do it, The images are projected onto the inside of their eyelids. I think it was planned that way by the designers, so that the holos wouldn't become too powerful.

"Sorry, this hallway trip is boring me. I have to do something to pass the time"

"Well you could start thinking of what we're going to do when we get to the lobby. How are we going to get past the receptionist?"

"I was thinking that you could flirt with her, while I slip behind the counter and turn off the exit alarms."

It wan't a bad idea. I had to give Bosco his due. And the plan was just in time - I could see the lobby door up ahead - we were finally getting near the exit. I peeked around the ferns. Crap! The receptionist was a hologram. Now what are we going to do?

"The receptionist is a holo - now what are we going to do?" I asked. Wait - didn't I just say that?

"Ok. I'll flirt with the receptionist, and you sneak behind the counter." Suddenly, Bosco started to flicker. And there he was - T.J Hooker himself, standing right in front of me.

"I couldn't find a telephone booth to change in" he said.  "What's the matter, your dance card full?  I've seen the past, gentlemen, and it works!'.

I couldn't believe it - he walked right thru the door. "Damn it, Hooker - use the doorknob" but he was already in the lobby. So I took my own advice, opened the door, and snuck in behind him.

...


Follow Tales of Bosco, now on his own website!

Sunday, April 20, 2014

Bosco, Re-Projector

"Well, if you see that hologram, remember, he's on Black's List of Prohibited Sentience. All contact is strictly forbidden. If we find out that you've been supplying him with photons, you'll be doing hard time at Guantanamo Federal Prison." Agent Terry slammed the door on his way out.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, he loves you too." I muttered under my breath. Terry was a jerk. But a smart jerk, and that made him dangerous. I had to get Bosco out of here. If Terry was right, and Black was onto us, we were in deep doo-doo.

PHZZT! "Would you STOP shutting me down like that!". It was Bosco. He has recently figured out how to reanimate himself. But not his clothes. He was sanding there bare naked.

"You know I can't let the Accountancy Agents find you - they'll scramble your pixels, and hand me over to Cuba. We need to get you outa here. Now put some clothes on, and lets try to find the way out before they check in here again."

Sigh. It was hopeless, and I knew it. I'd been trying to find the exit from Building Eight for years. This place was like a hamster trail. I turned to see that Bosco was now fully clothed. "You kow, " he said, "all we have to do is keep to the right. When the hallway forks, just keep to the right. We'll be out in no time."

"Easy for you to say - holo's don't experience time". But we had to try, and maybe he was right. I opened the door. "Come on, lets go..."

Sunday, April 13, 2014

Chapter 3 - Project Bosco and the Prophets of Bill

We worked feverishly back then, me and Bosco. I was running a fever of 102, but Bosco - Bosco's fever was even higher.

He was delirious.

"More tsetse flies" he cried. "Where is that quinine?". I had to pretend that I was as stark ravers as he was, so that the accountants wouldn't figure out who I really was. That would have blown the whole project. And that couldn't, mustn't happen. We had to stay in Building 8 long enough to find out what they did with Bill.

Some say that Bill was a captive. Other's said he was a willing conspirator, but I didn't believe that, and neither did Bosco. But then, what did Bosco really know? He was just a hologram - 'Project Bosco' we called him to begin with. That was before we discovered that he had a hangnail. And he got paper cuts. So we had to start treating him like a human. I just called him Bosco - a first name like Project just made him sound Canadian. Of course, we knew he was, but we couldn't let the accountants find that out.

It was the accountants that had Bill - of that I was sure. The accountants, with their tales of easy credit, and fast ROI. Who wouldn't be deluded by such talk? Only a hologram, of course. And of course it was Bosco that first made me realize what was really going on. They're coming now, I hear them in the hallway. So I put Bosco back in his memory stick, and put it in my pocket...


Stay tuned for more 'Digressive Tales of Bosco'

Saturday, April 12, 2014

The Origin of the Dood

No, not the Dude. The other Dood - Dark Overlord of Data.

No, not born of interstellar gas pains and hot lumps. Not midwifed by Friends of the Martian Space Party.

Like Venus from Zeus, the Dood lept fully formed from the mind of dare-demon Reebus Cannibus during his famous Comet peeling stunt.

Sworn enemy of Mark Time and boon companion to the evil warlord Prince Arcturus, the Dood stands ready to fight against the rights of ordinary mutants and holograms alike.

Let's see what's happening to Mark now in A Heap O' Hot Gas!

Thursday, March 27, 2014

how can you be in two places at once...

I don't seem to have enough posts for one blog, so why another? My first blog, if it's not dark, it's not data is for my professional interests. This is a more personal blog, focused on the things that make me tick - music, books, movies, recipes, random thoughts - I could keep going, but you get the point.

So this is the 'Other Blog of Dark Overlord of Data', inspired by one of my favorite authors Philip Jose Farmer, who wrote a book titled 'The Other Log of  Phileas Fogg'. Like all of Farmer's work, this blog is my alternate reality.

Welcome!