Archive for the ‘Luc Reid’ Category
The Strange Story of Hugh Djass
Wednesday, April 7th, 2010
Hugh Djass got picked on a lot as a kid, but whenever he complained to his father, Del Djass, Del said the same thing:
“Son, you have the name you do because I love you. Your mom didn’t want it, and I know you don’t want it right now, but I think someday you’ll thank me. If you can make it through childhood, head held high, with a name like ‘Hugh Djass,’ you can make it through anything.”
“Dad, I really don’t like it! We have to change it!”
“Not until you’re 16. Then I’ll gladly sign the papers if that’s what you want, because you’ll have made it through childhood. Until then, you’ll just have to man up.”
So Hugh manned up. He ignored the taunts and waited for everyone to get tired of them. Unfortunately, they didn’t–but on the bright side, the friends Hugh eventually made were all people with a sense of humor.
On Hugh’s 16th birthday he received a stamp collecting set from his father. Hugh wasn’t remotely interested in stamp collecting.
“The thing is, Hugh, stamp collecting teaches you discipline and attention to detail. Don’t knock it before you try it!”
“OK,” Hugh said. “Thanks, dad. But now I need something else from you.” And Hugh slowly took a folded form from his jacket pocket. It was a name change form.
Del frowned. Hugh burst into tears. “I just can’t stand it any more, Dad! Just sign it, OK? Please?”
Del obviously wasn’t crazy about the idea, but Hugh knew he was a man of his word, and he flipped to the end and signed.
The next afternoon when Del returned from work, Hugh was sitting at the table, working on his homework, whistling.
“So,” Del said, “did you change your name?”
“Well, it’s a funny thing,” said Hugh. “I filed the form, but I decided not to change my name, at least not directly.”
“I don’t understand,” Del said.
“It’s changed, all right, but I don’t think there’s much difference in practical terms between being named ‘Hugh Djass’ or ‘Hugh Djass, Jr.'” He handed a court-validated copy of the form to Del. “Should’ve read it first, Dad. Attention to detail, right?”
Then Hugh gathered up his homework and left Hugh Djass, Senior alone with his thoughts.
What Goes Around, Stays Around
Friday, April 2nd, 2010
“Mechaieh … the poet?”
“Of course the poet.”
“But I heard that all of her poems turned into flocks of birds when you read them.”
“That’s only her recent ones. This is one of the old ones.”
“So you’ve read it?”
“Of course not. You think I want it to turn into a flock of birds?”
“I thought you said it was one of the older ones.”
“I lied. I thought maybe you’d lose interest and go away.”
The tall robot shuttered his photoreceptors in surprise and backed away from the short, wheeled robot. “Why do you want me to go away?” the tall robot said.
“I’ve decided not to read it at all. Ever. So that I’ll always have it.”
“You might as well never have it if you never read it. But why do you want me to go away?”
“You know what I’d like to do sometime? I’d like to seal myself in plastic and walk on the bottom of the ocean.”
“Are you feeling all right?”
“I’m feeling … orange,” said the short robot. “The stars are tickling me. You know what would go down good now? A …” Then he hiccupped, and abruptly, his brain exploded.
This was a downloadable virus that had been going around, which caused loops that overstressed processors, generating more heat than the robot heads had been designed to handle.
The tall robot backed away, leery of contagion. After a moment, though, he scooted forward and picked up the poem. He sidled off into a dim corner of the factory where they both worked, where he’d be less likely to be noticed, and opened the poem. He wondered if the flock of birds would appear when he began reading or as soon as he had pronounced the last word. He wondered if they would appear at all.
“What’ve you got there?” asked another robot, a bulbous, yellow one.
The tall robot looked up. “Something by Mechaieh.”
“Mechaieh … the poet?”
All at once, the tall robot began to wonder how the virus was spread.