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Ari Rahikkala
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Unreported loss of streaming in atomic read operation
Oct 1999
time: 07:25
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Ah well, blatant copyright infringement beats buggy links... 
The Computercist
By Ian Wolff
Although rare, computer possessions have lately been recorded at an increasingly alarming rate. However, to date, the most celebrated case of (documented) computer possession took place on the evening of June 23rd, 1997, in the small upscale town of Menlo Park, CA. For the sake of the victim and his family he is referred to in the following case file simply as 'Tad.'
(Case #27-198TAD Monday, Oct 23rd, 1997... 6:42pm)
"I'm so glad you're here," said the beleaguered looking middle aged woman as she ushered the two gentlemen callers into her living room and bade them sit, "I'll just be a moment," she continued, hastening into the kitchen and returning with three steaming mugs of freshly brewed coffee.
"Tell me what you can, Miss Snyder, I'd like to get started as soon as possible." Said Jacob, the more elderly of the two gentlemen.
"It all started last night," she began, "Tad, that's my son's name, Tad. Tad had been locked away in his room for the past three weeks, I thought he was just studying hard since his finals were coming up and all, so I left him alone. Until last night, that is, that's when I entered his room and..." she began to tremble, tears rolled down her cheeks and she dropped her coffee mug to the floor with a crash.
Karrass, the younger of the two gentlemen, leapt to her aid. "There, there," he said, holding her tight and patting her on the back, "everything will be all right
Jacob arose from the couch and taking the large black suitcase in hand, caught Karrass's gaze and motioned him towards the stairs. "It's time," he whispered, "come along now."
They climbed the stairs quickly and Karrass reached for the boy's bedroom door. "Stop!" hissed Jacob, "there are a few things we have to get straight first. Number one, you'll have to keep IT busy while I install a surge protector."
"A surge protector?"
"Yes, trust me. If the power goes, so goes the boy. It happened to me once before and I'm still paying for it. Not the child, the computer. "Do you know how much a fully loaded Compaq Impresario costs!" Her father kept screaming in my face. Meanwhile his daughter's soul had just been sucked into cyberhell. It was very sad, not to mention expensive."
"Gotcha, I'll keep it busy while you install the surge protector. Anything else?"
"Yes, whatever you do, don't listen to it. It will try and make you angry. It will lie, twist your words, show you unflattering pictures of your loved ones on its monitor and tell you that your mother's in it's nudie files. Do NOT believe IT! Well, unless of course..."
"NO," shrieked Karrass, "she couldn't be!"
"Fine then, are you ready?" Karrass nodded in the affirmative and the two men entered the room. It was worse than Jacob had expected and nearly more than Karrass could take in.
The boy lay prostrate upon the bed, a 56k modem was attached to the left side of his abdominal region, while several wires leading from multiple outlets looked to have installed themselves throughout every orifice the boy owned. It seemed to Karrass as if the boy and the computer had become one. The room stank of burnt wires and singed pubic hair. The walls were awash with downloaded girlie pictures and more pornography, thought Jacob, than a Larry Flynt archive. "I wonder what type of finals he was preparing for," whispered Karrass.
Suddenly the monitor sprang to life and the hiss of the speakers filled the room. "Nice day for a computercism," came the deep croaking voice, "we've been expecting you."
Karrass pulled a chair next to the bed and sat down, he took the keyboard and placing it on his lap, typed "who are you?"
"You have mail!" Blasted the speakers, followed by a wicked giggle. "Never mind who I am," it continued, "I'm not giving up the boy and that's all you need to know, Karrass. That is your name isn't it? And stop typing, I can hear you just fine, I'm wired to the little pinhead's eardrums."
"What should we call you?" Asked Jacob, while covertly slipping the surge protector from the suitcase. "If I tell you," came the voice and this time from the boy's own lips, "I'll have to kill you. But if you must know, It's Mort."
"MORT?" Chimed the two men.
"Hey, you asked."
"Do you know why we are here, Mort?" Asked Jacob, while installing the surge protector. "I know why you THINK you're here," it responded, "but you're terribly mistaken, the NERD IS MINE!!" Came another blast from the speakers, this time causing both men to cover their ears. Jacob pulled a pair of wire cutters from the bag and snipped the speaker wires. "Very sneaky," it said, now from the boy's mouth. "Hey Karrass, look what your father's been up to."
Karrass gazed at the monitor, there, in full color, was his very own father, dressed in a white teddy, a flowing pink negligee, and six-inch spiked black heels.
"That's not my father!" Screamed Karrass.
"Karrass!" Shouted Jacob, "what did I tell you!" Karrass sat motionless, unable to peel his gaze from the hideous picture. Jacob pulled a shirt from the closet and draped it over the monitor. "Karrass," he said, taking the man by the shoulders and shaking him violently, "snap out of it."
Karrass gazed up at Jacob, his face drained of color, "did you see it, Jacob?"
"Yes, it was horrible, but I warned you that might happen. Besides, it could have been worse, it could have been MY father. Actually the negligee seemed to fit quite well and as for the..."
"Stop," Karrass interrupted, while placing both hands to his stomach, "no more, please."
Jacob brought Karrass a glass of water from the connecting bathroom and delved into his bag, it was time to stop playing, he thought, and get down to some serious work. He removed a small vile labeled 'Bill Gate's saliva' and popped the cap. "Be gone from this child of the Internet!" He shouted, while flicking some of the vile's contents across the boy's body, the monitor, keyboard and modem.
"AHHHHH It burns, it burns!" Screamed the unholy and writhing assemblage. "Your mothers on my hard-drive Jacob!" It shrieked, spitting a stream of keyboard cleaning solution into Jacob's face.
Jacob continued, undaunted. "You will leave this nerd now! You will return this computer geek now! By the almighty text of HTML, so be it written, so be you confused by it, and all things computerized accordingly shall confuse you...!"
"Stop!" Howled the beast, it's wires now sparking and sending a bluish smoke into the air. "The monitor turned completely around on it's axis, several floppy discs began flying about the room, one hitting Karrass squarely in the crotch, causing him to drop to the floor in agony.
Jacob strove on, "Bill Gates compels you! Steve Wozniak compels you! Steve Jobs compels you!" With each incantation he thrust another sprinkling of saliva upon the beast. "Henry Ford compels you!"
"He made cars," moaned a still agonizing Karrass.
"Oh right, sorry, I've been meaning to delete that. Be gone from this boy you demon!" It was working, the wires began detaching themselves from the boy. "Jacob!" shouted an excited Karrass, "it's working! Read from Genesis, Jacob. Genesis!"
Jacob flipped to the front of the book and began reading. "In the beginning there was a garage, and Steve and Steve saw the garage, and they liked it, saying 'this is a good garage. 'DAMN!" He suddenly blurted, throwing the vile across the room. "What is it?" Asked Karrass. "No more saliva," replied Jacob. "This happens every time he continued, while feverishly digging through the suitcase, "that's the trouble with billionaires, they can't produce enough saliva because they have nothing to salivate for!"
Suddenly the boy sat up and thrust the mouse in Jacob's face, "click me, click me, click me," it repeated in a hideous croak, "click me!" Jacob pushed the mouse away and pulling a floppy disk from his bag, held it before the boy's eyes. The boy immediately recoiled and began to whimper, "please don't," it pleaded. "Not a virus, please. I'll be good, I promise, I'll give you fifteen free hours and unlimited access to Catholic Nymphos?"
Jacob handed the disc to Karrass and ordered him to load it. Then turning back to the beast, he fixed it with a steely glare and with a twinkle in his eye shouted "fax you and the mouse you clicked in on!"
The two men stepped back as the virus began spreading like poison throughout the beast. Random pictures began flashing across the monitor, Newt Gingrich, Keith Richards, Cool Whip, The official Vaseline page.
"Oh there's a pretty picture," whispered Jacob, while Karrass clutched at his already overtaxed stomach. Suddenly the room fell silent, the monitor went black and a thick blue smoke began streaming from the boy's ears. "It's over," said Jacob, wiping the sweat from his brow. Karrass approached the bed and leaned over the boy, "Tad?" He whispered. The boy's eyes opened, "who are you?" He asked, "and where's my mother?"
Meanwhile....
Little Kathy dashed through her front door and ran straight away into her bedroom. Life in little Ackle, New Zealand, had always been rather boring, she thought, that is until her parents had recently given in and bought her a brand new computer. She booted up the system and watched as the pretty colors and 'way cool' graphics danced before her eyes. "You have Mail!" Hissed the speakers. "Wow, cool!" She squealed, while leaning forward to read the name upon her screen. "How totally weird," she whispered, while clicking to open the file, "I don't know anyone named Mort."
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08-02-2003 02:21
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