Tuesday, May 30, 2006

More Futurenews

Nets Glitches Reach New Peak

Tuesday, May 16, 2036

This past Sunday at midnight saw what experts believe to be the largest yet-recorded of the net phenomenon known popularly as ‘The Ghost’ and ‘Mr. Internet’ among other names. A large corporate database, property of a UK produce distributor, was formatted and replaced with information consisting mostly of garble. A flight was also accidentally redirected from Buenos Aires to Singapore. Media experts and analytical programmers are currently analyzing the data-anomalies detected during the event.

Scientific Controversy

Many technical experts and scientists attribute these “emergent phenomena” to the wildly mushrooming amount of information being sent around the world’s media structure. Some theorize that as communications, or ‘commands’ on the nets increase in volume, many program-directives conflict, causing errors on major systems. These errors then compile like snowballs in certain circumstances, according to certain studies.

Researchers at a university in Beijing have applied decay-rate algorithms from rotting wheat to graphs of the frequency of the events. The researchers involved claim to have made significant findings. The scientific community at large remains skeptical. Some of the world’s senior science leaders, including several Nobel Prize laureates, have claimed that these events will continue to increase in frequency and size until data on the nets becomes largely unmanageable.

A locally celebrated Italian mathematician has developed a controversial equation that relates the sizes and ‘tempo’ of the events to the Golden Mean.

(viewlink: Italian Mathematician Claims Golden Mean Explains Internet “Intelligence”)

Pop Icon Status

The “Mr. Internet” craze, popularized by German Artist, Cristoph Burensen in the mid twenties, has seen its strongest boom yet in response to Sunday’s event. Netsofiles and casual users alike have rejoiced about some of the bizarre, often comical effects of the events, or ‘moodswings’.

“I got an eighteen foot… well, dildo sent to my house on Wednesday!” Said a surprised and somewhat embarrassed Schoolteacher in Brantford, Ontario, CanadaWest.

“It’s fantastic fun. He’s really starting to think, like in the Sci-files.” Said a British Mr. Internet fan. “The kids love it. I got them all Mr. Internet Detectionware for their wristtops. Nobody believes in Santa Clause or Jesus anymore, do they? They’ve got to have some mystery in their lives.”

Not All Fun

Many involved parties are concerned about the potential danger of the anomalies. Markets have already been hit in certain sectors, most notably in single-site datastorage networks. One business has filed bankruptcy over the loss of their infodomains. The insurance industry has jumped on the phenomenon, with ‘Ghostbuster’ software-protection plans already available.

Recently reopened SETI’s massive “AI Detection Lab” has billions of NCU’s invested in the search for ‘The Ghost in the Machine.’

Cubesender, BBCNN News (BBCNN/infotainmentfiles)

Reality Check No.1

This is a stream-of-consciousness article chronicling some of my superficial observations about my experiences in Montreal.

At this point I'm eight articles deep into my literary nightlife forays. With a shaky-but-improving grasp on the lifecycles of Montreal's musical mechanation, I'm now in the process of trying to refine my filter for talent. As a relative newcomer to the city, I find myself in a position of some minor, but seemingly relevant, influence on the community. As a result, I'm pitted with the views and aspirations of myriad promoters, DJs, bands, and venue owners, many of whom know the beast a heck of a lot better than myself. It's a bit nerve-wracking in the sense that some people understandably get the idea that I think I know what I'm talking about. Maybe I do, maybe I don't. I'm not too sure most of the time. But nevertheless, I've situated myself as such, and thus must deal with the consequent sway I sometimes have. In trying to do justice to the efforts of all the people in the business of pleasure, I'm realizing that I'm gonna have to break out of my closed-loop of parties(namely, the ragin'-est, loudest, most rediculous shit I can find) and find stuff that's under my patchy radar-screen. I know this because some of the wildest events I witness are way out of my column's current boundaries. That's the dichotomy of the writer, I suppose: I'm not an expert on the scene, or a literary prodigy; I'm just a writer with a serious addiction to crazy parties, tectonically working towards being those things.

Part two of the equation is that my favorite ways of expressing myself seem to be pretty much unsuitable for the magazine, so I also have to refine my writing skills to get to a level where the two worlds jive. These things are essentially my current challenges, and my gurus are all the wierdos I talk to when I'm out. I have essentially no critical input, so I'm shooting in the dark for the most part, using the slurred phrases of wisdom yelled at me over a dirty bass-beat on the dancefloors of all the clubs, bars, lofts and apartments this job drags me around to.

The next, perhaps most complicating factor, is of course my indulgent, chaotic, arrogant personality: my best weapon and my biggest crutch. Years of the road-warrior lifestyle, rife with mystery, challenges, catharsis, self-reliance, cops, criminals, tribulations, poverty, and, ultimately, success have certainly sanded the edges of my beligerence. But I've still got fire in my eyes. There's not much other than time and good council that's going to refine that, I'm afraid.

My savior so-far seems to be the surprisingly understanding, well-intentioned people I meet on the scene. Sure, there's a lot of coke and sinister personalities around: c'est la vie. I can smell those fuckers a mile 'round the corner, anyway. Five years of highway banditry set me up with some keen ears for deceit. But the cats I deal with on the incidental schedule of the night each have a whiskey-spiked piece of truth for me to absorb, and I'm lucky they're there to unintentionally point me in the right direction. The scene takes care of it's own, in it's own jagged way.

And so, the ruminations continue to another all-night party, and hopefully another narrowing of the gap between my personality and the identity superimposed upon it by my job...

Sunday, May 14, 2006


“You have any idea what comes out of those things when they fall, boy?” He lifted the old stainless steel espresso maker and poured some of the tarry black scum into their cups. A sputtering whisper of steam echoed in the pot and reminded Jack of his grandmother’s emphysemic coughs. She used to sit there, puffing cigarettes through those lovely yellow teeth, smiling and watching the TV. She’s long gone, he mused. “Asbestos, lead, mercury,” the old man continued, barging through Jack’s idle thoughts. “Dioxin, PAHs like you wouldn’t believe. When they did the studies on the first ones, nobody wondered what would happen if they all fell at once.” He then closed his eyes and paused to either sigh or doze or reflect. “Well, not all of them. And certainly not all at once. But you see what I mean.” He chuckled, heh, heh, heh, like a creaking piece of furniture. “The fires burn in the rubble for months. Years if no one bothers to put ‘em out.”

Jack looked toward the mainland and tried to imagine one of the gritty behemoths rolling over onto the insects below. He’d seen pieces fall off of some of the older commercial complexes in Downtown. Once he almost got hit by a gigantic hamburger that just hinged off a marquee in the wind. Something in his forebrain couldn’t fathom building something that large without a thought about its eventual decay.

The sun was peeking out over the port, blazing, blinding. The heat was directional, the way it often is in the morning, so the two groggy companions nestled around their cups with their blankets up to their earlobes.

Monday, May 14, 2036

Senate (Up 116.90 points at 298,131.3) fails attempted CIA leadership block

Wall Street

The United States Senate has failed to block security firm, SECI’s (Secure Enterprise Compound Incorporated) bid to gain control of the Central Intelligence Agency, sources say. After an optimistic day on the market, the Senate was still unable to convince investors of the potential risks of recent corruption allegations against SECI, America’s Hope For A More Stable Future.

In a Senate multicast, CEO Ron Schaefer said, “The wellbeing of the American market is clearly not going to be aided by SECI taking over the CIA. The agency itself has countless media files indicating that this corporation is in direct negotiation with the Chinese regime…”

The security firm refutes involvement with Chinese interests. “Our ship is run tight as a rubber band. Our Chinese shareholders have all purchased a Pledge Of Allegiance in accordance with due procedure.” Said Graham Selton, a company spokesperson.

“We represent the same thing American investors and citizens want: security.”

Certain members of the Senate, however, point to Exxon-Disney-TimeWarner’s recent controversial purchase of the Territory of Taiwan as evidence of subsidiary company, SECI’s unpatriotic intentions. “SECI have trading stock not only in various divisions of Exxon-Disney-TimeWarner’s Taiwan project, but have published plans to bid in Kazakhstan’s nation security system. The American market won’t stand for this!” Carl Russel, Ohio Senator said.

SECI spokespeople deny allegations of wrongdoing.

The Senate, Serving America Since 1787, has released various multicasts urging American investors to choose a different company to head the 2036-38 CIA term.

SECI agents are set to take over command at the Freedomgon and the Libertyplex next Friday.

American markets have been holding steady since the decision, with the DOW Jones up 346.80 points at 517,987,413,706.9.

CubeSender, BBCNN News(cast/BBCNN/infotainmentfiles)