The Internet is a Playground

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by David Thorne


  From: Allison Hayes

  Date: Tuesday 17 August 2010 3:19 p.m.

  To: David Thorne

  Subject: Re: Re: Re: Ref. 28941739

  Hello David

  The amount of $766.05 is calculated from the meter reading. While I understand your frustration with the automated phone system, we are not able to deal with account inquiries via e-mail and according to my supervisor there is no such thing as a portal so I’ve no idea why you are sending me pictures of them.

  Sincerely, Allison Hayes

  From: David Thorne

  Date: Tuesday 17 August 2010 4:05 p.m.

  To: Allison Hayes

  Subject: Snap

  Hello Allison,

  I am not questioning the calculation; I am questioning the number the calculation is based on. If you accepted cows as payment and I owned two cows, worth forty dollars each, but counted them incorrectly, lost one in a dark forest, and sent you the remaining twenty, would you come out thirty-three dollars and ninety-five cents ahead and call it a perk, or have one cow? Perks are actually one of the only reasons I still bother to turn up for work. While my coworkers are in meetings discussing why the business is going bankrupt, I put office supplies in the boot of my car.

  As every meter reading for the last two years at this address has been under two hundred dollars, rather than pay you $766.05, I would prefer to spend that amount on thirty-eight pizzas, ensuring sufficient fat reserves to survive having the heat turned off, or have my apartment lined with polyester socks and wearing a suit made out of carpet—possibly generating enough power to start my own grid company. I would then construct a number, calculate an amount based on this and send out accounts stating that the amount is based on a number and is therefore mathematically correct. If anyone questioned the basis of the number the amount is calculated from, I would simply declare, “I have the power,” and point out the scientific implausibility of their experiments, forcing them to investigate other, more viable, designs.

  Regards, David

  From: Allison Hayes

  Date: Tuesday 17 August 2010 4:16 p.m.

  To: David Thorne

  Subject: Re: Snap

  Hello David,

  Have you bought any new electrical equipment in the last few months that might account for the additional usage?

  From: David Thorne

  Date: Tuesday 17 August 2010 4:24 p.m.

  To: Allison Hayes

  Subject: Superconducting quadrupole electromagnets

  Hello Allison,

  Nothing that springs to mind. I purchased a Large Hadron Collider a few months back, but it has not seen much use. The one time I did manage to get it working, I ended up at the day before I unpacked it, so this wouldn’t count.

  Regards, David

  From: Allison Hayes

  Date: Tuesday 17 August 2010 4:31 p.m.

  To: David Thorne

  Subject: Re: Superconducting quadrupole electromagnets

  Whats a hadron collider?

  From: David Thorne

  Date: Tuesday 17 August 2010 4:38 p.m.

  To: Allison Hayes

  Subject: Re: Re: Superconducting quadrupole electromagnets

  It’s kind of like a pressure cooker but with way more dials.

  From: Allison Hayes

  Date: Wednesday 18 August 2010 11:31 a.m.

  To: David Thorne

  Subject: Re: Re: Re: Superconducting quadrupole electromagnets

  Hello David, I have spoken to my supervisor and if you like I can arrange for someone to come out next week and read the meter again to check if there has been an error.

  From: David Thorne

  Date: Wednesday 18 August 2010 1:29 p.m.

  To: Allison Hayes

  Subject: Sana-tana Dharma

  Hello Allison,

  An excellent suggestion. Sometimes the most obvious solution to a problem is the one that evades us most easily. Like a cow in a dark forest.

  Regards, David

  Kaleth the Adelaide gothic

  Hello, my name is Kaleth. My real name is Darryl, but my friends call me Kaleth. I asked them to, and some of them said they would. I am a vampire and a creature of the night, which is why my friend Zothecula and I stand in the middle of the mall during the day discussing bats and being misunderstood.

  My cousin Justin wants to be a gothic as well, but you can’t just become a gothic, you are either creative and sensitive like I am or you are not. I agreed to meet him at the mall to stand in the middle and discuss bats and be misunderstood, but when he got there it was obvious that his top was actually very dark blue and not black, so I did not let him. Yesterday, while we were standing in the middle of the mall discussing bats and being misunderstood, a group of people called me an Emu. I looked it up on Google, and it turns out that it is a bird that can’t fly, so they were wrong, because I can fly. Once, when I was a bat, I flew to my friend Zothecula’s house and tapped on his window. The next day he told me that he saw a bat outside his window, and I told him that it was me, but he didn’t believe me. Zothecula and I are going to live forever because we are both vampires. We met on an Internet chat site called batsandbeingmisunderstood.com last year, and now we regularly catch the bus to the mall to stand in the middle and discuss bats and being misunderstood together. I met my Internet girlfriend Nightblade on the same site, and we had planned to get married in a graveyard at midnight, but she turned out to be an old guy living in a caravan, so that didn’t work out.

  I was playing my Best of Siouxsie and the Banshees cassette really loud the other day while doing some gothic dancing, and my neighbor slipped a note under my door that read “Turn it down, Batman.” He calls me Batman because I painted my front door black with bats on it so that it looks like they are flying out of a cave. One of the bats has my face on it, and my best friend Zothecula said that it is the best painting he has ever seen. If my neighbor knew that I could cast a magic spell that would just kill him straight away, he would be more careful.

  Yes, us gothics are more intelligent and sensitive than you, and we do look at things differently, but that doesn’t mean that we can’t all get along. We understand you, so I think you should at least try to understand us.

  Here are some of my paintings. I do them to show others the pain and torment I experience.

  The color of my heart.

  This is a painting of bats flying around at night. One of them is me.

  This one is the inside of a coffin.

  This one needs no explanation—it just makes me cry every time I look at it.

  Frogs and temporal distortion fields

  When I was about ten, my best friend Dominic and I would go down to the creek at the end of our street and play. The creek contained thousands of tadpoles and you could easily find several frogs by lifting rocks.

  Speaking of my best friend Dominic, he lived just five minutes from my house, with grapevines between the houses. One day he called me to come over and I left right away. As I was walking through the grapevines, I received what felt like a large push from behind and almost fell; when I turned around to confront the person who had pushed me, there was nobody there. I continued to Dominic’s house, and he asked where I had been because I had left my house almost four hours earlier. True story. I have, to this day, no knowledge of where the four hours went, but I think I walked through some kind of temporal distortion field, possibly to a far off future where I met my soul mate, we grew old together, and I was then given the choice after she died to return to my own time, the moment I left, with no memory of my future life. This is obviously the most likely explanation.

  We would take a frog and insert one of those thin fruit box straws into its anus and blow it up like a balloon. We would then put the frog onto the water and let go and watch it speed across the creek. Sometimes the frogs would burst as we were blowing them up. As the creeks were teeming with the tadpoles, we classed this as no more cruel and unnecessary as throwing the tadpoles at each other
from each side of the creek in what we called Tadpole Wars. One day we threw frogs at cars driving past but were chased by a lady, so we didn’t do that again. Once, after reading that licking toads would make you high, we dared each other to swallow frogs live. On one occasion my mother opened the freezer to find eighteen frozen frogs, because I had been told that they could be frozen and then revived.

  A couple of years ago I was in the area with my son and we went to the creek, but there were no frogs or tadpoles in it. This could be because they have all died out from pollution over the years, but I prefer to think that they are fine and remembered me through some form of inherited group memory and hid. We did find a shopping trolley, though, which entertained my son for about an hour, so that was good.

  I thought I would have a lot more to write about frogs, but I am bored already.

  Frog Facts

  The Brazilian Jungle Frog can mimic human speech and grows to the size of a small child.

  Frozen frogs make a healthy and fun addition to any kid’s school lunch box.

  Mud Frogs can live for up to eighty years but spend all this time in hibernation under dried river mud.

  When blended, frogs make an excellent energy drink, which contains 92 percent of recommended daily vitamin intake.

  While frogs have a varied diet, which includes nuts and corn, their favorite meal is the cheese quesadilla from Applebee’s for $6.69. Due to the fact that frogs do not require oxygen and can withstand extreme pressures, they can often be found searching the ocean floor for their second favorite food, krill. These deep-sea abilities make the frog a perfect companion for skin divers as part of the buddy system. Frogs can also be taught to weld.

  Frogs have excellent reception and can be used in place of your standard television aerial.

  Frogs are extremely territorial and protect their nests by attending Neighborhood Watch meetings. Frogs prefer contemporary furniture over traditional. A pile of empty flat-pack IKEA boxes at the base of a tree is a sure sign that a frog nest is present.

  Placed between tissue paper and under heavy books for a few weeks, a dried frog makes a stunning broach.

  There are approximately eighteen thousand varieties of frogs, but most fall into one of three categories: the big frog, the little frog, and the black bear. As the chart below shows, there is a frog in the United States, one in what looks like Japan, and a really big one in Africa.

  Tom’s diary a week in the life of a creative director

  Hello, my name is Thomas, and I run a design agency. You have probably heard of me, as I am known as the Design Guru of Adelaide. Everybody calls me that. You can call me Tommy, though. Or the Design Guru of Adelaide, if you want. Just try it and see how it sounds. No? OK, I wasn’t asking you to call me that; I was just saying most people do. It’s not a problem—Tommy, then. Or the Design Guru of Adelaide if you say it a few times in your head and find you prefer it because it rolls off the tongue quite well. OK, Thomas, then.

  Monday

  10:30 a.m.

  At work early this morning because I started writing a novel last night and am keen to check if any publishers have e-mailed me with expressions of interest yet. I am about halfway through, and so far it is brilliant. It is about a guy who runs a design agency during the day but at night is a karate soldier with psychic powers. And can fly. And has lots of girlfriends. I am currently looking through photos of me for an appropriate one to use on the cover. One that says “creative genius” but at the same time “Hey.” I will probably use the one where I am sitting on a chair, as it will remind people of that statue where the guy is thinking, called Guy Thinking. Or the one of me on the beach, because my hair looks great and I am not wearing a shirt, which will sell books.

  12:30 p.m.

  Have just ordered a new MacBook Pro because my current one is almost six months old and I cannot be expected to play Solitaire at these speeds.

  Staff complained about the speed of theirs when they heard, but I spend four to five hours each day sitting behind them watching what they do and have witnessed, firsthand, Photoshop running fine on the Macintosh IIci they share. I just upgraded it to 8 MB a few years ago and am far too busy to be dealing with their petty issues.

  1:30 p.m.

  Spent the last hour writing another chapter of my novel. It now spans several millennia, from the nineteenth century to the twentieth, due to the main character being immortal. Having him first jousting redcoats then, later in the novel, time-traveling robots, provides contrast and a break from the parts where he has a lot of girlfriends.

  2:30 p.m.

  Have been sitting behind the staff having brilliant ideas. I think of things all the time that are brilliant. What is it called when you are a sideways thinker? I am one of those. I usually have about ten sideways ideas per minute. I should probably sit the exam for Mensa. I am just too busy. Just this morning, while shaving my back, I thought how great it would be if my shaver had an MP3 player built in, as I was in the mood for a bit of Seal and that would have made the four-and-a-half-hour process more enjoyable. I would call it the Rave’n’Shave.

  3:30 p.m.

  Heading out for a drive shortly to buy a kite—they are a great way of meeting new friends. I have a meeting scheduled but have told the secretary that if the client comes in before I get back, to talk about me and say, “I am surprised you managed to get an appointment with him, as he is in high demand and is known as the Design Guru of Adelaide.”

  4:30 p.m.

  Got back in time for client meeting. We agreed on a package that saves me 20 percent on local calls, so it has been a successful day. Heading home because I am exhausted and Jumper is on cable.

  Tuesday

  12:30 p.m.

  Just got into the office, as I was up late downloading the iPhone developer’s kit. I played a lot of Space Invaders on my Commodore 64 when I was young and have a brilliant idea for an app that will make millions of dollars. It is a bit like Space Invaders but more like Frogger. With a Braille touch screen for the blind.

  1:30 p.m.

  Spent an hour writing another chapter of my novel. The main character now works as an international fashion model. And has the ability to transport himself to any location on the planet as long as he has been there before.

  2:30 p.m.

  Since my creative energies are too large to be tethered to one discipline, in addition to becoming a famous author, I have decided to win Australian Idol this year. I have my first singing lesson in half an hour. My voice is like one of those mermaids that sings to sailors as they crash onto rocks. But a man version, with a deeper voice, and legs. Although I have the look they are after and perfect pitch and tenor, it makes sense to get a few pointers from a professional beforehand.

  3:30 p.m.

  Have decided not to win Australian Idol this year as I am too busy.

  4:00 p.m.

  Long day. Heading home after I send out an e-mail to all staff reminding them to refer to me as the Design Guru of Adelaide and describe working with me as “inspiring” when they talk about me with people at the pub or during family dinners.

  Wednesday

  11:00 a.m.

  Late one last night. Decided to go to the pub and stayed for a few drinks even though everyone I knew was leaving when I got there. Guys are uneasy being around me with their girlfriends because they know the ladies are thinking about me naked. Probably lifting weights or dancing. Luckily, there was a girl at the bar by herself, so I sat down and talked to her about me. Surprisingly, she had not heard of me even though I am very well known and people refer to me as the Design Guru of Adelaide. Unfortunately, she had to leave before she could finish reading the news clippings about me that I keep in my pocket, but she did agree to give me her mobile number, 0123 456789, so will ring her tonight and talk about me then.

  1:40 p.m.

  Staff member just mentioned that eight years ago I said, “I have full-body cancer with only one year to live, and that’s why everybody ne
eds to work quicker.” Told them that I never said that and to stop making things up. Anyway, I was talking about another guy who had cancer. He is dead now, so they should show some respect.

  2:00 p.m.

  Leaving early today to ring the girl I met last night. She will probably want to meet for a drink or come over to my place, so I need to collate the photocopies of news clippings and magazine articles about me into a scrapbook for her and shampoo my chest. I also need to make a mixtape of my favorite songs. I know most of the dance moves to Disco by the Pet Shop Boys so will start slow with that before popping and locking for her with some Depeche Mode.

  Thursday

  9:30 a.m.

 

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