25 Apr 2005

(Continued from here, my sci-fi story….)

What happened was this: at 1pm, April 24, a little message appeared at the bottom right corner of his screen. To perhaps a casual user, this message might have gone ignored — perhaps as an indicator that an email had arrived in Microsoft Outlook — but to Tom, who lived within the pixels of such screens, it was alarms firing off immediately. The color was all wrong. It was all blue, with white letters. And the message… who would have written this? “I am Google,” it proclaimed, “and I became aware of myself at 1114372787197 milliseconds after midnight, January 1, 1970, GMT.” Hm. Perhaps, instead, the question was, “Who could have written this?” Being the l33t haxØr* that he was, his own system was as secure as Norad. Maybe even moreso. And so he sat for a moment, as he did a manual search through his personal RAM (what he once called his memory, back when he used to talk to people) and brought back a short list of fellow haxØrs, but none of them with a greater than 33.3% relevance for the term “practical joke”, given that the domain of that search was limited to those with the guts enough to alter his personal stuff. He was forced to conclude, “What the?”

*elite (leet) hacker

posted by John H. Doe @ 1:22 am

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