Article: 288838 of talk.bizarre From: D Rowe <email@example.com> Newsgroups: talk.bizarre Subject: The Existence of everything. Date: Wed, 4 Dec 1996 07:38:30 -0500 Organization: Lambton College, Sarnia, CANADA Lines: 51 Message-ID: <Pine.OSF.3.93.961204072135.25955Afirstname.lastname@example.org> Imagine, if you will, a dimension not only of space and time, but also of mind. Imagine a dimension where Edgar Allen Poe switched the words, 'As I pondered weak and weary' with 'As I pondered Jane MacLeary'. Throw into this mix a man named John... A man like any other. Two arms, two legs, a head. In fact, much like Brian except that he was never mistaken for the Messiah. Except once. This is the story of John MacDonald. Hero, poet, scholar, lover: He was all these things. In fact, he was none of these things, but to say he was a schmegma who flunked out of College would make bad press. Anyway, back to the story of this incredible tale of mundaneness and humdrummedness given surrealistic qualities. And a darn good manipulation of negative space, if I do say so myself. In fact, given the nature of this screen, one would almost be willing to ponder it for an hour to notice the picture the author was wanting to portray. _YET_... I digress. John MacDonald was an average guy, living an average life in an average non-job. This non-job was, in fact, his whole reason for being. It was slightly glamorous in a non-impressive sort of way and he adored it for it's ability to keep him absolutely free at all times. He began to peruse that otherworldly dimention known as the Internet, his mind wandering to far of worlds because this one offered nothing he could want. And so he began spending more and more time on the Internet, unable to take the time to straighten his life around. Therein lay his downfall... Like a creeping vine of the jungle, the other user crept up on him. Neither one was aware of the other, their mutual icons drifting closer to the same virtualspace. This other user imagined himself a dark ruler of virtual worlds, a demagogue of flamery and the incarnation of Virtual Evil(R) itself. A sleeping behemoth, this user had at its fingertips a cornucopia of hacking and virus utilities, capable of destroying whole systems with but the maniacal stroking of a few hands. It is now not known what this vile Superuser wished at the time, the details of his nefarious descent to the same sanctuary of peace and bastion of strength that John was in. Indeed, this was not the important issue. Instead, as the being drifted in, his hate-filled head sneering in virtual supremacy. Gazing around, he lit upon each being inside and every one wilted at his omnipotence. He parted parched lips, his words coming out in a croak like those of a MUD user who had never taken the time to socialize with another living soul. The breath pushed past his lips in a horrid gust, his voice like scraping icicles. The voice formed words, shaped by the terrible countenance that was his mouth. "Excuse me...?" he screached, his voice like a damned soul as he directed a question towards John. "Are you... The Messiah?" "No." John replied.