Archive for August, 2010
Happyglasses
Tuesday, August 10th, 2010
Nathalie lives in the same apartment building and works at the same office as Odette and Michèle. All she knows of them is their names.
Odette wears riskyspex most of the day. She tightrope walks across intersections, dodges computer-generated avalanches, battles pirates down city sidewalks. She arrives at work exhilarated.
Michèle prefers busylenses. They deliver emails and rss feeds. The sides of buildings become spreadsheets and letterhead for her invoices. The journey is just an extension of her job.
Nathalie puts on happyglasses first thing. An overlay of singing bluebirds and bobbing balloons is just what she needs. If she is about to walk into a tree or building they will direct her around the danger.
(It’s just as well cars drive themselves. All the drivers are wearing glasses of one kind or another.)
Nathalie goes to a new café for lunch. Animated vegetables blur around the edges, pixelate, then blink out altogether. An announcement whispers over her earpieces.
“This café is a no-augment zone. Please enjoy the company of your fellow patrons.”
Her happyglasses are transparent for the first time in, well, ever. Nathalie looks around, discombobulated. She bumps into a chair, and pauses. This would not have happened if her glasses were working.
She turns, about to leave, when she sees the two other diners. Odette sits in a corner, keeping a wary eye on Michèle, on Nathalie, on the waiter, out the window, then back to Michèle, who is drawing something complicated on a napkin. When Nathalie walks to an empty table she sees it appears to be a production schedule.
Salad. Sandwich. Nathalie is eating a last sliver of carrot when the other two rise to leave. None of them have said a word beyond ordering. “Wait,” she calls.
Odette spins. Michèle turns more slowly, looking up from the napkin she still carries.
“Let’s walk back together,” says Nathalie. “It could be fun to talk.”
“Why?” says Odette, backing toward the exit. Her glasses opaque as she stands in the doorway. She spins, dodging imaginary projectiles, and darts down the sidewalk.
Michèle just glances at Nathalie, then shakes her head slowly and leaves. Once outside, she moves numbers here and there with practiced fingers.
Nathalie looks around at the empty café. She has never felt lonely before. She pays, and leaves.
When the waiter cleans her table, he finds the glasses she has left behind.
Three Basic Defenses against Web Goblins
Monday, August 9th, 2010
Viruses, trojans, malware, spoofing websites–for the unsuspecting websurfer, the online world was fraught with dangers enough as it was, and now there’s the threat of goblins. There have been plenty of articles online lately with background information (who knew that so many leprechauns were so heavily leveraged or that the changeling futures market would tank so precipitously and have such a ripple effect throughout the economies of the fairy realms?) or tips for spotting an infestation (a flickering greenish glow behind your keyboard; your cooling fan begins to sound like it’s muttering in some consonant-rich unearthly language) but practical advice for solving the problem has been noticeably scarce. In the spirit of good net citizenship, we at the Daily Cabal offer some strategies we’ve found effective:
1. Iron
The oldest of anti-fairfolk remedies is still one of the most reliable. Many online retailers carry rusty iron USB flash drives, some with charmed silver circuit boards–which may or may not increase their potency. Take care, however, not to search on “thumb drives” when searching the magitech sites that carry such things, or you may wind up with something made from an actual thumb, on a principle similar to the black magic Hand of Glory. While these do wonders for extending battery life, they do nothing for your goblin problem, and may imperil your immortal soul.
2. Trolls
Just as it’s helpful to introduce ladybugs to a garden to control aphids, introducing hot-button political or religious issues to one’s blog can attract trolls, which will in turn cause most goblins to flee in panic. Unfortunately, your normal readership may flee in a similar manner, and you may need to purchase some alpha predator plug-in to return the natural balance, such as BaLrOGger.
3. Enya
Elves love the New Agey Irish songstress; goblins hate elves. Therefore, a continuous loop of Enya MP3s can be highly effective, at least in the short term. Some goblins develop a resistance, in which case you may notice your Enya collection transmogrifying first into some female-fronted Nordic opera metal band (e.g. Nightwish) before sliding all the way into superblackened death metal with song titles that will summon unspeakable horrors out of the abyss and onto your hard drive. In these situations, administer controlled doses of Loreena McKennitt or, in extreme circumstances, Björk, who, as is commonly known, actually is an elf.