I have been given a new mission to undertake at the end of July. Can't say much about it now except it is going to take me to hiterto unexplored regions of this country then across the waters to an island full of skippies.
Arrangments have been finalised but there is still a little paperwork to complete before the mission is peachy-keen.
Showing posts with label odds and sods. Show all posts
Showing posts with label odds and sods. Show all posts
Friday, May 21, 2010
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
An account from a concerned Earthling
EDITORS NOTE: This blog entry was cherry picked by abctales.com on 3rd September 2010
A cherry-pick, represented by a lovely bunch of cherries, is given by the editors of ABCtales to recognise pieces of writing that they really think that other people should read. This is not a scientific process, but does genuinely represent both an encouragement to writers and also a guide to the most interesting or noteworthy writing on ABCtales.
read ABCtales version
The following, according to my onboard computer, is an extract (introduction) from a journal some cleaner found on board an abandoned spaceship.
I know this sounds crazy, but aliens have abducted Loretta and replaced her with a duplicate. She’s similar in appearance but I have noticed certain discrepancies over the past few weeks that have led me to suspect that something’s amiss.
It all started shortly after that retirement party for Brandon. It went on a bit longer than planned and I ended up getting home at some ungodly hour of the morning. I staggered into my downtown apartment, slumped down on the lazy-boy recliner and turned on the television.
I remember being woken sometime later by a series of strange noises. My sleep-glued eyes struggled to focus on the television screen but all I could see was static, sort of like that Poltergeist movie.
My attention was suddenly drawn to what I can only best describe a number of small creatures busying about the living room. They had tied Loretta to the couch and were dancing around her. She seemed blissful unaware of their presence.
Concerned for Loretta’s safety I tried to get up but found that I had become paralyzed. My attempts to verbally warn her were also in vane. They continued chanting and dancing for sometime then joined hands and formed a circle around the couch. A blinding light filled the livingroom then slowly dimmed then vanished. Loretta and the creatures were gone!
Released from my paralyses, though still hindered by intoxication, I staggered around the apartment in a bewildered panic vainly searching for my beloved friend then just as I was preparing myself for the reality of never seeing her again, the blinding light refilled the apartment.
The light dimmed as it had before Loretta was back lying unrestrained on the couch. She stirred and stared at me in a most peculiar manner, cringing fearfully as I approached and extended my hand to pat her. From that moment on I have had reason to believe that she is not the same Loretta.
Often in the evenings I catch her by the window contemplating the Milky Way and she seems intent on sitting close to the Television screen whenever a science fiction program or space documentary is on.
Last Tuesday I dropped her off at the Veterinarians for them to check her over for any alien chip implants. They gave me a curious look and but agreed to my request.
When I picked her up the following morning they told me that they had failed to find any such devices. Nor had they noticed any obvious changes in her personality but I am not convinced. Me-thinks a governmental “men in black” agency is forcing them to hush it up from Joe Public.
I suppose I should not be too critical of the vets for not noticing the subtle changes. They don’t see her every day like I do, but believe me the changes are many. She has forsaken her love of bacon for Mars Bars and has traded her favorite blanket for a pile of satin sheets. She stirs whenever I close the venetian blinds and last week she spent hours on end studying the framed diagram of the solar system I have hanging in the Living room.
With no definite way of knowing just how long the aliens are planning to keep Loretta I can only try my best to make the duplicate feel welcome in my apartment. She has become a fascinating distraction from my mundane existence and I have found our evening strolls somewhat unpredictable.
Loretta has lost her zest for chasing cats but his developed intolerance toward people in uniform. Kelly, a local courier, has already lodged a formal complaint about being terrorized whenever she delivers parcels to me and I am worried that someone will end up getting bitten. That would be disastrous for everyone concerned, who knows what sort of galactic germs she carries.
Some days pass without incident and I find myself forgetting that the affectionate creature in my apartment is only a replica. It has a healthy appetite, with a gluttonous stomach that has no memory. She always obliges when it comes to the disposal of unwanted leftovers.
A few days ago I took Loretta for a drive to Castlepoint to see Ruby, an old acquaintance whom has had her fair share of alien encounters. I told her about the abduction and Loretta’s changes and also asked if she knew of anyway that I could possibly communicate with the aliens.
I promised to safeguard her secret communication devices but syffice to say I can contact was eventually made with the aliens. They told me that Loretta was in no danger and will be returned in due time. When asked why they had taken her they became hostile and stated: "Our actions are not answerable to puny Earthlings Q.E.D."
So there you have it. I’m back to square one wondering when or if I will ever be reunited with my beloved Loretta. The optimistic part of my mind believes Ruby did contact the aliens while the pessimistic side tends to think she was merely humoring my paranoia.
A cherry-pick, represented by a lovely bunch of cherries, is given by the editors of ABCtales to recognise pieces of writing that they really think that other people should read. This is not a scientific process, but does genuinely represent both an encouragement to writers and also a guide to the most interesting or noteworthy writing on ABCtales.
read ABCtales version
The following, according to my onboard computer, is an extract (introduction) from a journal some cleaner found on board an abandoned spaceship.
I know this sounds crazy, but aliens have abducted Loretta and replaced her with a duplicate. She’s similar in appearance but I have noticed certain discrepancies over the past few weeks that have led me to suspect that something’s amiss.
It all started shortly after that retirement party for Brandon. It went on a bit longer than planned and I ended up getting home at some ungodly hour of the morning. I staggered into my downtown apartment, slumped down on the lazy-boy recliner and turned on the television.
I remember being woken sometime later by a series of strange noises. My sleep-glued eyes struggled to focus on the television screen but all I could see was static, sort of like that Poltergeist movie.
My attention was suddenly drawn to what I can only best describe a number of small creatures busying about the living room. They had tied Loretta to the couch and were dancing around her. She seemed blissful unaware of their presence.
Concerned for Loretta’s safety I tried to get up but found that I had become paralyzed. My attempts to verbally warn her were also in vane. They continued chanting and dancing for sometime then joined hands and formed a circle around the couch. A blinding light filled the livingroom then slowly dimmed then vanished. Loretta and the creatures were gone!
Released from my paralyses, though still hindered by intoxication, I staggered around the apartment in a bewildered panic vainly searching for my beloved friend then just as I was preparing myself for the reality of never seeing her again, the blinding light refilled the apartment.
The light dimmed as it had before Loretta was back lying unrestrained on the couch. She stirred and stared at me in a most peculiar manner, cringing fearfully as I approached and extended my hand to pat her. From that moment on I have had reason to believe that she is not the same Loretta.
Often in the evenings I catch her by the window contemplating the Milky Way and she seems intent on sitting close to the Television screen whenever a science fiction program or space documentary is on.
Last Tuesday I dropped her off at the Veterinarians for them to check her over for any alien chip implants. They gave me a curious look and but agreed to my request.
When I picked her up the following morning they told me that they had failed to find any such devices. Nor had they noticed any obvious changes in her personality but I am not convinced. Me-thinks a governmental “men in black” agency is forcing them to hush it up from Joe Public.
I suppose I should not be too critical of the vets for not noticing the subtle changes. They don’t see her every day like I do, but believe me the changes are many. She has forsaken her love of bacon for Mars Bars and has traded her favorite blanket for a pile of satin sheets. She stirs whenever I close the venetian blinds and last week she spent hours on end studying the framed diagram of the solar system I have hanging in the Living room.
With no definite way of knowing just how long the aliens are planning to keep Loretta I can only try my best to make the duplicate feel welcome in my apartment. She has become a fascinating distraction from my mundane existence and I have found our evening strolls somewhat unpredictable.
Loretta has lost her zest for chasing cats but his developed intolerance toward people in uniform. Kelly, a local courier, has already lodged a formal complaint about being terrorized whenever she delivers parcels to me and I am worried that someone will end up getting bitten. That would be disastrous for everyone concerned, who knows what sort of galactic germs she carries.
Some days pass without incident and I find myself forgetting that the affectionate creature in my apartment is only a replica. It has a healthy appetite, with a gluttonous stomach that has no memory. She always obliges when it comes to the disposal of unwanted leftovers.
A few days ago I took Loretta for a drive to Castlepoint to see Ruby, an old acquaintance whom has had her fair share of alien encounters. I told her about the abduction and Loretta’s changes and also asked if she knew of anyway that I could possibly communicate with the aliens.
I promised to safeguard her secret communication devices but syffice to say I can contact was eventually made with the aliens. They told me that Loretta was in no danger and will be returned in due time. When asked why they had taken her they became hostile and stated: "Our actions are not answerable to puny Earthlings Q.E.D."
So there you have it. I’m back to square one wondering when or if I will ever be reunited with my beloved Loretta. The optimistic part of my mind believes Ruby did contact the aliens while the pessimistic side tends to think she was merely humoring my paranoia.
Wednesday, November 4, 2009
cellphone ban # 2
So why is it that we feel the need to answer our cellphones when they ring at an inconvenient time? So much of technology involves us becoming slaves to our gadgets and instead of making our life less complicated.
Everyday we must check our emails and our messages and play doctor to our computer overlords, lest they throw a freezing up tantrum. Who dares to opt for videos over Blueray DVDs? Listen to records instead of CDs? Watch a black and white television.
One of the big mistakes that human technology has come up with, as far as I can see, is abstaining from knobs abd dials. To change chanel on a car sterio is far too complex, when a simple dial would easily suffice. You guys speak of techno-phobias but whatever happened to taking things one step at a time?
Rushing technology does not allow the general public to get to grips with one thing before they are urged to part with more money on an upgraded version of what they are not really sure that they need.
Forget the hassle of going to a bank use a compture instead and let some hack clean out your accounts. All forms must be completed without question. Those who dare to keep back any info are not welcome. How else will everyone build a complete dossier on everyone else. Is it any wonder that our phones are plagued with telemarketers, endless surveys and a raft of emotional blackmailers.
Jimmy Hoffer, an aqctive trade unionist in the Teamsters Union (around the 1960s era), use to say: "Give the man whatever he asks for". If he was alive these days perhaps he would say "give the computer whatever it asks for." Who needs privacy. Give them all your most personal details -date of birth, your mother's madien name, where you live, your phone number, when the last time you had a shit...just enter it into the boxes and except it.
Scammers and hackers get rich simply because no one wants to be accused of being techno-phobic.
Everyday we must check our emails and our messages and play doctor to our computer overlords, lest they throw a freezing up tantrum. Who dares to opt for videos over Blueray DVDs? Listen to records instead of CDs? Watch a black and white television.
One of the big mistakes that human technology has come up with, as far as I can see, is abstaining from knobs abd dials. To change chanel on a car sterio is far too complex, when a simple dial would easily suffice. You guys speak of techno-phobias but whatever happened to taking things one step at a time?
Rushing technology does not allow the general public to get to grips with one thing before they are urged to part with more money on an upgraded version of what they are not really sure that they need.
Forget the hassle of going to a bank use a compture instead and let some hack clean out your accounts. All forms must be completed without question. Those who dare to keep back any info are not welcome. How else will everyone build a complete dossier on everyone else. Is it any wonder that our phones are plagued with telemarketers, endless surveys and a raft of emotional blackmailers.
Jimmy Hoffer, an aqctive trade unionist in the Teamsters Union (around the 1960s era), use to say: "Give the man whatever he asks for". If he was alive these days perhaps he would say "give the computer whatever it asks for." Who needs privacy. Give them all your most personal details -date of birth, your mother's madien name, where you live, your phone number, when the last time you had a shit...just enter it into the boxes and except it.
Scammers and hackers get rich simply because no one wants to be accused of being techno-phobic.
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