RKNet Blog... Thing

Today, while walking to work, the darnedest thing happened.

A shifty-eyed man with a sparse mustache approaches me, carrying a large package. He’s dressed like a UPS man, but his uniform is generic. No badge. No hat. Are those Chucks peeking out from below his pants?

“Hi miss…” he stutters, spit collecting in the corners of his mouth. “You, uh, you heading to the mills?”

“Yeah… I work there… can I help you with something?”

“Yeah, yeah you can,” he replies, handing me the package, his arms shaking, still not looking at me. His fingernails are torn. Two have caked blood around their edges.
“Can you take this to…” He pretends to check the label, though it’s clear from his trembling hands that he knows exactly where this box is going. “Can you take this to Gloria Blacke?”

“Uhm, sure I guess…” I respond, not from any desire to help the man, but because this guy with his white spittle and earthquake eyes is beginning to creep me out. That, and because I want to make sure that, whatever this is, the Ironbauchs has it.

The man nods, thanks me and quickly disappears around the corner. I stand on the sidewalk for a moment, bewildered, and then start on my way. I haven’t taken more than five steps before, I swear, the box starts to move. A ball inside perhaps? Rolling around? Throwing the box off balance? No, no it’s not a ball, because now the box is making noise. Wailing. Crying. What the hell is inside this thing? An animal? A dog?

Bang. Bang. Bang.

“Jesus Christ,” I think to myself. What the fuck have I gotten myself into? I set the package on the ground and use my ring to slice through the tape. Suddenly, something is gripping my fingers… a hand! Holy shit, a tiny fucking hand!

“It’s a goddamn baby…” I whisper, but, there is something off about this baby-hand. It is strong, slightly gnarled. It isn’t soft, like a baby’s hand should be. No, good god dammit, this isn’t a baby. I rip my hand free and back away from the box just as whatever’s inside hoists itself out.

“Please.” It speaks. Tiny plaid pants. Tiny glasses. Its voice high and strained. “Please,” It says again. Standing before me is a tiny, tiny man. His body is perfectly proportioned, but he can’t be more than two feet tall. Oh my god; he is a primordial dwarf.

“Holy Shit!” I say aloud. I want to say: “I saw a special on you guys on TV once! Man! You guys are freaking adorable!” But, I don’t say that. I just stand and stare at this little man. I picture him dancing a gig. Okay, I’m fucked up.

“Please, read this.” He squeaks, handing me a folded piece of paper. “Please, don’t take me there!”

I take the paper from him, and began to read.

“Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Heat butter in a large skillet over medium-high heat. Fry chops on each side until browned, about 3 minutes per side…”

“I don’t understand…” I said to the little man, though the pit iof my stomach is beginning to churn.

“Turn it over,” he tells me quietly. I’m impressed with his patience. I flip the page.

INGREDIENTS:

• 1 tablespoon butter or margarine
• 1/4 cup brown sugar
• 4 cuts dwarf tenderloin
• 1 cup hot water

I actually laugh. I don’t know what else to do. I laugh! And then I look at the little man with his earnest eyes and trembling hands. I throw up on myself and on the recipe and on the torn cardboard box that my new friend is now standing behind.

“I wont take you there,” I tell him. But my head is already spinning. My hands shake- just like the man in the brown suit. Shit goes down when the Blacke One doesn’t get what she wants. Did anyone see me take that package? Does anyone know I’ve seen this little man? Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

“Come on,” I say, taking his tiny hand. “Get back in that box. I’ll keep you safe…”

* * * * * * * * * * * * * *

“Good Afternoon,” the Blacke One grins at me, like a fox. She’s carrying a steaming plate from the kitchen. It smells delicious, buttery and sweet, golden chops glazed in brown sugar.

“I want to thank you for delivering my package today,” she says to me, her dark eyes locked on mine. She hands me the plate. “Here,” she says softly, “I made up a snack for you.”

I gotta dollar store eagle on my shoutcast box
he’s got stubby feet and a busted tail
His flag looks just like cake

Lost my cool but found it again,
it wasn’t misplaced so much as set aside for the sake of proper ventilation
what’s a good cure for shoulder pains?

Today was just seriously unreal.
Much more of this and I don’t know what I’ll do.

No names have been changed, but appropriate links have been provided to appropriately ID the other participants in the conversation. Where no appropriate link could be found, the name has been omitted. Some cross-talk has also been omitted, since it doesn’t make quite as much sense out of context as it would with much more text. Rather than retell the story, again, in another format, I figured just sharing this with everyone would suffice.

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First the preamble:

I use a few Linux distros at home and at work, and being a half-baked nincompoop, I prefer the shiny new ones that end in “buntu”. The 64-bit version of Kubuntu is what I run at the office, and I have installed my preferred web-browsing application, Firefox 1.5.x, with my favorite themes, and a ton of useful extensions, most of which I need for work.

Among these extensions, there is a slick little application called Sage. This is an RSS reader embedded into Firefox, which is almost unspeakably convenient. I am expected to do research at least some of the time because my job demands it. Therefore, I am subscribed to numerous feeds, some authored by unabashed marketroids in Manhattan, others by squirrelly black-leather-jacket types in exotic places like Prague.

Every once in a great while, the workload becomes, um, constipated. Don’t get me wrong, there’s never a shortage of things to do around the place, but lately we tend to hyperfocus on a few high-priority items at a time - as opposed to taking a more holistic view (as in “HOLY FUCKING SHIT WE HAVE SO MUCH TO DO HOW THE FUCK ARE WE GOING TO DO THIS GIMME A CIGARETTE YOU PEEEN-ARSE YES I KNOW I DON’T SMOKE” etc). It might be perceived as inefficiency but our deliberately selective awareness of imminent doom allows us to actually get things done without the embarrassment of pissing our collective pants in abject terror after suffering massive aneurysms.

Anyway, what was I talking about? Oh yeah. Slow day at work. Reason: we have a balky cms built in deprecated php. The code is liberally commented in at least one Central European language, but aside from that, documentation is scant. This cms has the quirky habit of eating posts according to some fiendish glitch. Programmatic functionalities combine with traditional meatbag error and really weird things happen to our precious data. We would like to begin serious repair of the website but there is no way to do this, at this time, without using this cms. (By the way, if you want to know what using our cms is like, imagine if Franz Kafka wrote Catch-22).

So, we must wire Switzerland and tell them to put their finest gnomes to work. By tomorrow, we expect these gnomes to be busily engaged in pulling meaningless strings of ones and zeroes from the mysterious innards of the database and weaving them into more or less normal html.

In the meantime, there’s various personal crises and dramas to fill the available time. All this stuff, on top of a two-long-island-iced-tea lunch and a nasty sugar crash caused by socially mandatory birthday cake, makes me stupidly susceptible to opening up the feedreader and clicking links. As a result I am now fully briefed on a variety of current events in the nerd universe.

First, let’s start off with what we already know. At 9pm EST yesterday, instead of deleting forum spam like a good boy, I was glued to my monitor, drinking a beer and watching as Digg rioted. This was absolutely fascinating. I’ve tried to spam Digg a few times so I know what kind of raw power was needed to unleash something like that, and believe me, the power level over there was waaaaaaaaaaay over nine thousand. A few places like the nefarious Forbes.com (more on those assholes later) were Diggbaiting this story earlier today (reposting a similar story at their own url in an attempt to attract backlinks), and earning upwards of 1000+ diggs. If I was into AdSense arbitrage I would have done the same thing. Digg is famous for funneling huge traffic to popular pages, enough traffic to crush a server. Some of those visitors will click an ad or two. Wash, rinse, repeat - voila! There’s your business model.

What was most interesting was Kevin Rose’s attitude. I was really impressed that he decided to side with the majority of Digg users. Unfortunately this flies in the face of all business sense (wherein you are supposed to avoid getting sued and do nothing except increase shareholder value, regardless of the collateral damage). In the more profit-minded areas of the intarwebs he has been damn near vilified, not so much for taking a stand, but the manner in which he took it. However, this issue involves more than just money. This is a matter of ethics. The future is at stake here, and rather than defer to the corporate interests involved, Kevin Rose did what was right. We won’t know the outcome for a while, but a line has been drawn in the sand, and a million computer enthusiasts are loudly saying with one voice “I’m mad as hell and I’m not going to take it anymore!”

But, I’m beating a dead horse with all this Digg stuff. We all know about that shit. What I am really interested in is space.

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Synopsis of totals available behind the cut:
Radio Rock: 1
Country: 2
Psychobilly: 1 (I would like to see Unknown Hinson in either country or Psychobilly. He’s great, you should google him and check it out!)
Pop: NA
Emo: NA
Original Emo: NA
Ambient: 0
Chillout: 5
Indie: 5
Metal: 0
Metalcore: 0
Hardcore: 0
Post Hardcore: 2
Grindcore: 0
Doom / Sludge / Experimental: 0
Powerpop: 2
Punk: 1
Pop Punk: 1
Street Punk: 0
Crust Punk: 1
Rap: 0
Hip-hop: 4
Ska: 0
Classic Rock: 12
90’s Alternative: 6
Industrial: 2
Electroclash: 2
Electronica: 2

My heritage wins out overall. If any bands are missing from my listening loop, please, fill me in! I really only checked off artists I either have albums for, or have a strong familiarity with. Which means there are several in these categories that I “sort of” know, but not enough to stand behind them for the purposes of this survey. Read the rest of this entry »