The Evening * Glob

Do you know where this data has been? In order to read this page, software acting on your behalf has innocently submitted a request across the channels of the Internet and patiently held a connection open in expectation of a response. The fact that you are reading this page is proof there was a response, but what a response! A motley collection of packets that have been routed and re-routed across the face of the earth, under the sea, and bounced over microwave relays in high Earth orbit, rubbing bits at each step with packets containing the lifesblood of the Internet: spam and smut.

How can you be sure that the packets that were assembled into this page were not morally corrupted by simple proximity to these degenerate datagrams? Peer pressure is an all too real phenomenon, and even the most innocent of web pages is only a hyperlink away from depravity beyond the fleshpots of Sodom. How can you be sure that all the the bits you receive are pure and chaste?

After all, due to the prevelance of obscene spam, innocent email doesn't stand a chance anymore. Time after time, new emails spontaneously decay into cheap come-ons by simply being spooled with a few bad messages. That note from your friend John, with the subject 'This is interesting', had once contained to a link to your favorite band's home page. However, within a few milliseconds of being delivered to your inbox, a gang of solicitations for herbal viagra 'convinced' John's email to change its link to a site for an Icelandic firm specializing in frozen food perversions.

With email nearly a lost cause, the Web is the next battlefield. Every time you surf, you are venturing out into polluted streams of data. The more bandwidth you have, the greater your risk of contamination: your fat pipes are an open sewer. The Internet backbone is a spineless wonder when it comes to morals. How can you keep you and your family safe from corruption? It's easy, thanks to your friends at Celestial Sentinel.

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Posted by williford at 06:16 PM | Permalink

Many citizens are puzzled by the current behavior of the U.S. Senate. Engaging in a 30-hour debate in order to discourage senators from filibustering sounds suspiciously like pouring drinks at an A.A. meeting in hopes that they'll get sick of the stuff. There will be suffering, no doubt, but there is no real hope of a cure by these means. It simply doesn't make sense. The only conclusion for a rational observer is that the senators are up to something.

Researchers from the High Energy Rhetoric Laboratory at Glob Labs have been carefully monitoring the planning and execution of this debate, and they feel that their preliminary findings are too important to delay publication. Simply put, the Senate leadership appears to be engaged in a controlled test of high-flux debate in the hopes of experimentally establishing the interchangability of time, energy, and political matters. The Senate chamber is the reaction vessel, and the senators themselves are both the experimenters and the subjects of the experiment.

Quantum social dynamics predicts that heavy, massive political bodies may be rendered unstable under highly charged and pressurized conditions. In the presence of a polarized political field, these bodies are easily excited via absorption of information with a contrary spin state. Typically, the excited political body then emits information of the opposite spin in a speech, returning to his or her normal energy level.

In the current experiment, the Senate leadership have engineered a lengthy and constrained period of debate in which access to the floor will be tightly controlled. By forbidding at-will floor access to excited Senators, these actors will be unable to emit speeches in a timely fashion, all the while continuing to absorb highly energetic bogons and pontificons from the current speaker. By carefully focusing the debate to maximize contrary spin, the Senate leadership obviously intends to excite at least one senator into a critical state, resulting in an explosive conversion of some portion of that senator's gravitas into negative energy. That depleted senator would then decay harmlessly for the remainder of his or her term into a completely burnt-out actor, politically inert.

Given the slim margin currently held by the majority party in the Senate, this experiment appears to be part of a dangerous game. If the leadership can explode one or more of the opposition, then they will be able to pursue their agenda without let or hindrance until the next elections. However, there is always the danger that senators from the presiding party may also succumb to critical excitement, which could fatally weaken the majority. There is also the possibility of a chain reaction that would convert the collective grey matter of the Senate into waste heat via a self-sustaining, indefinite debate.

Glob Labs is confident that the public is not in immediate danger as a result of this experiment. The experimental vessel is well-contained, so there is no risk of direct exposure to the polarizing pontificon flux within the Senate itself. However, viewing the progress of the debate through media channels may entail exposure to secondary radiation, so the public should exercise caution. Readers of The Glob who fear that they have been exposed to political fallout from this debate are urged to see a licensed physician, especially if suffering from nausea, vomiting, light-headedness, or a desire to address the nation.

Posted by williford at 10:22 PM | Permalink

Recently, this correspondent had the opportunity to interview the reclusive cowboy astronomer Dr. Furianus 'Dusty' Fortiscue on his ranch in Oklahoma. Dr. Dusty, as he prefers to be called, is famous for several inventions that help astronomers work more effectively in the plains, including the extensible grain-silo telescope and the portable mountain. Dr. Dusty has been following the recent solar storms closely, and he graciously took time out of his fall roundup to entertain a few questions.

The Glob: Dr. Dusty, do you have an opinion as to the cause of the intense solar activity we have experienced over the last few weeks?

Dr. Dusty: Well, I've certainly been thinkin about the sun. See, some folks say it's middle-aged, but that don't make no sense to me, what with the spots. This here star's clearly an adolescent, and so you can guess what it's got on its mind. These prominences and flares, well, it's just gettin roused by some passin heavenly body, and it's lettin off a little steam, if you know what I mean.

The Glob: Is there any risk associated with this activity?

Dr. Dusty: Well, we're not gonna go blind, if that's what you're thinkin. The solar brightness ain't going to vary much. Damn, though, I'm afeared one a these days it's gonna git itself really worked up to the point that it blows fire and plasma out past the orbit of Venus to roast our asses in one colossal cosmic spl**ge.

The Glob: Good Lord!

Dr. Dusty: Yep, prayin ain't a bad idea, but I was thinkin maybe we could treat the disease by treatin the symptom. If we could just clear up them spots, maybe it would calm the hell down.

The Glob: Is that even possible, doctor?

Dr. Dusty: Sure, it's possible, and NASA's got folks working on a coverup cream for celestial bodies, made mainly of osmium, tungsten, and titanium with a little beeswax and Vitamin E. But we need to test it first, and we were thinking about using Jupiter, but the trouble is, the coverup stuff is so heavy it'll sink right through the atmosphere of a gas giant. It'd be one hell of an extreme makeover if it worked out, though.

The Glob: That would be must-see TV.

Dr. Dusty: TV? Well, the time delay would make things pretty slow. There's no way to get Jupiter into the studio, a course.

The Glob: It would be a grave situation.

Dr. Dusty: We get too close, and we'd end up broadcasting live from hell quicker than you can believe.

The Glob: Indeed.

Dr. Dusty: I suppose it would be interesting. See, they've already got TV in hell.

The Glob: They do? Who does?

Dr. Dusty: The damned. They've got TV in hell, but there's only one channel for everyone: a personalized shopping network. What you see for sale are all the things you lost or never had due to your own foolishness. Just one bad decision after another, and all these chances to set things right with a simple phone call and a credit card. But you start out nearly maxed out on your credit card, and when you go to town buying up your long-lost possible futures, well, they come looking for you to pay. Pretty soon they've got your spleen out your eyesockets and your lungs down around your knees, and they drag you into the shower and run cold water through your ribs, though it ain't exactly cold, and it ain't exactly water, cause it's on fire. And it's like that every single day. Your life and your losses on TV, and the chance to get them back, but only if you pay, and you just keep paying, forever. Compound interest is a terrible punishment for sin... I wonder about the divine mercy sometimes, I really do.

The Glob: Well. . . thank you for your time, doctor.

Dr. Dusty: My pleasure, son. You're welcome to come back if'n you got any more questions. I've got a theory of galaxy formation that you just might want to hear about sometime. Turns out that there're more similarities between stars and steers than you might expect.

Posted by williford at 10:06 PM | Permalink

The Geek Chorus: Dood, what gives?
Myself: Are you enjoying our new format?
The Geek Chorus: Man, I think I prefer a dead site.
Myself: But this is a de luxe presentation of famous Diary of the Polish author Witold Gombrowicz, in thrilling daily installments!
The Geek Chorus: Neat. Plagiarism.
Myself: I beg your pardon! I am using an entirely new translation of the pronoun.
The Geek Chorus: Uh, waitasec. OK, back.
Myself: Yes?
The Geek Chorus: Just had to do a quick search. You know that old Gomby wrote the Diary in English, right?
Myself: . . .
The Geek Chorus: Like I said, nice one.
Myself: Isn't your guild expecting you?
The Geek Chorus: Oh, crap. You're right, dood, gotta run.
Myself: Goodbye.

Posted by williford at 10:03 PM | Permalink

Me.

Posted by williford at 08:32 AM | Permalink

Me.

Posted by williford at 08:31 AM | Permalink

Me.

Posted by williford at 08:31 AM | Permalink

Me.

Posted by williford at 08:31 AM | Permalink