What is YOUR Pizza?: 2009

Official Time-Out, play to resume shortly

Okay, I hate to do this, but seeing as how I haven't updated in a while, I guess it's already been done?

No no no, I haven't given up on this. Not by a long shot. But it needs work. The story. The voice. The characters. The everything. I'm not happy with the way it's going currently and I need to take some time to fix it.

Life has a large part to do with this. Major changes going on right now. Moving overseas again. Yeah. BUT as I get things in line, I'll be returning to the world I'm working on here. PLUS I'll be introducing a new project.

This is exciting. You should be excited.

Anyway, for what it's worth, for whom it holds any worth, I'm just saying this project is NOT abandoned.

Just on a soon-to-be-ended hiatus.

I'll be advertising again once I'm back alive. Check back soon, yah?

--me

6 July 2009

'We thank you for your patience,' Leethen says.

'Still working out the kinks,' he says.

'Man the weather's hot today,' he says.

Wait that's not what he said that's what Cam said.

'Can't be too careful with this,' the-actual-he says.

I gotta talk about the Independence Day speech!, I say.

'Oh we definitely can't be too careful with this then,' he says.

'Sometime this week, our network should be more stable by then, sound good?' he asks.

'Works for me,' I reply.

'And please, next time look into e-mail encryption,' he finalizes.

1 July 2009

Been lost in my own little world lately. Work's still going, but we're all kinda focused on smaller, local projects. Remember Trash Wednesday. Casual Friday is not Clothesless Friday. Cam's favorite, The Homeless are not Helpless.

Little things.

Elle's been on a bit of a green kick, both in terms of hair and projects. Chris has been hiding off in the audio recording room, coming out only to try unsuccessfully to get us out of our shells and into The After.

I think we're all a little bit pissed we weren't chosen to do anything for the upcoming July 4 celebrations. "We're going in a different direction," they said. "Need a change in tone for these," they said. Hmpf.

But I'm back up...only, don't know how many people can read this now. This SubNet business...man, Andy could explain it a few hundred times better than I could. They have the feel of an ISP, but...more elite. Highly technophilic, more elitist, more secret-clubbish.

I got back in touch with Mr. (call-me-Matt) Leethen, who sent me instructions and tossed around words and phrases like 'extended intranet,' 'proxies proxies proxies,' 'hypertext stylesheets,' etc.

Don't understand how with all this security I still keep getting spam from the TinFoil Hat Brigade like I shared earlier. Seems to get around all the blocks too. Matt says they're still working out some of the kinks. And kooks.

He also warned that with these kinks (and kooks) there's still a lot of instability in the setup. "If there's a problem, down we go. We'll get it back up a.s.a.p., but one can never be too careful, am I right?" as he said.

Dunno if you've noticed but this is all a little confusing. Is to me anyway. Wanted to use this as a backup on the hope that the main site would get back up. Hasn't yet. I can't access it, Andy can't, haven't heard from anyone else who can. Guess this becomes the main site then. Just hope that nobody who was reading the last is excluded now. I'll have to talk to Matt about that.

30 June 2009

Test, test.

Hello world.

Is this thing on? -tap tap-

What was I supposed to type oh right.

"If you are reading this then you either have successfully signed up for SubNet, or you have been granted viewing privileges of protected SubNet material."

wow so formal

28 June 2009

What follows is the important parts of today's talk with Andy. There...there was a lot that falls into the important category, I am thinking, possibly.

"So, still writing?" he asked, plugging in our competitive video game of choice.

"No thanks. Yeah, I am, on the off-chance it's just a temporary thing."

"Yeah, about that. Any forced software updates on your computer lately? And you do realize there are characters other than Ken in this game."

"Pfft, like I pay any attention to that. To either of those." (Actually I do, but he knows I know.)

"Yeah, you wouldn't. But I don't think it's client-side anyway."

"Uhm, what."

"The cause."

"Not what I'm not following here."

"Client-side? Your side. User's side."

"Right, gotcha." Nodded my understanding. Cursed a round loss. "That would stand to reason though, right? After the attacks, fewer fat pipes, there's gotta be some negative network effect, right?"

"That's a painful simplification, but as far as I KNOW, that's close enough. The problem is I don't know if I know too much or not enough about the situation though."

"Last part's never been a problem for you, cocky jerk. Dammit!"

With the match win, he turned from the screen. "Yeah, well. Let's assume, okay? Let's assume that your explanation makes enough sense to keep me on the sane side of Occam's Razor."

Raised an eyebrow. "And the more complex, less sane side of the coin?"

"That someone's censoring sites centrally."

"But who?"

"ExACTly."

"Um."

"Either Them or Us." His voice capitalized the words. "If it's Them, then they're still impacting our daily lives in ways the President hasn't acknowledged openly. And if it's Us...." He turned back to the game and started the next match. New characters.

"If it's Us, maybe should just kinda stay between us....?"

"Pfffffffft." Total nonchalance. "I'm not paranoid enough to believe that yet, like I said. Plus, I'm just some guy, you know? There are tons of people running around yelling on about far crazier conspiracies." A shrug. Honestly, I doubt he'd care if they DID come for him. He'd just take it all in stride and enjoy the ride.

"But it's possible," he continued, launching into an extended combo. "The slow loading? The not-so-random, almost systematic disappearance of blogs all on similar subjects? It could very easily be someone, somewhere, running large amounts of net traffic through a filter of sorts."

He paused, taking his second victory a lot better than I was. "Well, not very easily, honestly. Again, I don't think it's the most likely cause. Just something to toss out there to make life interesting."

"Been interesting enough over the past few months, thanks man. Really."

"Don't mention it. Also, are you going to bother trying today? I mean, seriously...."

"Look, I'm digesting, alright? And--oh, yeah, right, wanted to ask you something."

"Yeah?"

"Ever heard of a group called SubNet?"

His turn to raise an eyebrow. "You've heard about SubNet?"

"Not just about them. FROM them."

"Hmmm. Interesting." He grinned and returned to kicking my digital ass.

"So you know about them?"

"Just bits and pieces. Not much, really. Just that they should be able to help you if your site's still down."

"That's nice. Why the reaction?"

A shrug, and a third loss for me. Dude totally spams the same move.

"Yeah, the WIN move!"

Jerk.

27 June 2009

(Going to go ahead and toss the next couple of entries up while I'm checking e-mail. Hopefully should know soon enough if this is working. --6/28/09)

More proof e-mail works. More proof the Internet is a strange place, even post-5/6.

"To Whom it May Concern:

I am Matt D. Leethen, owner and founder of SubNet Ltd., a privately-owned ISP and website hosting service. Since May 6, we have turned to focusing on providing hosting for sites and developers whose hosts and/or servers were damaged in the attacks.

Subnet believes that one of the most vital services the Internet can provide in today's world is the means to remind us of that which was lost, including -- but by no means limited to -- accurate first-hand reporting of life in today's America. Therefore, we at Subnet make a special effort to provide help and support to sites falling into this category. Yours, obviously, was such a site.

We have noticed that your online account of life after the attacks has recently gone down. Perhaps you've noticed a similar problem amongst similar sites. We believe we know the cause of these issues, and SubNet can help you to get live once again.

Most importantly, due to the nature of your site and the purpose of SubNet, we wish to offer this support for free. Not free as in 'free trial' or 'free information,' but free as in 'service for the public good.'

I sincerely hope, personally, that you will consider this offer. I believe this will be of great interest and benefit to you. Should you be interested and/or have any questions, please respond using the e-mail address given below.

We look forward to hearing from you soon.

--M. Leethen,
CEO SubNet Ltd.
(e-mail address removed)"

This is...good news? A bit convenient? Odd?

All of the above?

But hey, if you're reading this and it's the Future then I guess I took them up on their offer and everything panned out legitimately?

26 June 2009

So for whatever reason, my blog's been down. I'm e-mailing this post in on the off-chance it's still showing somewhere. Got no clue myself if it'll show or not. Hoping the site'll get back up soon and I can continue writing. It's become a bit of a routine; nice way to wind down after dealing with the absurdities waiting outside my apartment door.

Not that the writing's stopped -- said absurdities continue to provide fertile grounds for entries. If and when I figure out what's wrong, there'll be stories to share.

Still receiving e-mail, at least. Got a reply from Andy, albeit a short one: "When are you free?"

Guess I'll be talking to him on Sunday.

24 June 2009

Dammit. If you're reading this then at least e-mail updating still works. Can't access the blog online any more.

The hell's going on here...?

23 June 2009

Bananas!

The grocery store had bananas today! Crazy expensive though. $2.50/lb. Didn't keep me from picking up a couple of bunches, earning a slight raised eyebrow from the checkout operator girl. The guys are already faded beyond green into a solid yellow, but I figure I'll be able to down then before the browns dominate.

Payday's coming up, and after the success of our +'s ads, we all should be doing pretty well for a good while, provided there are no crazy market dives.

Anything's still possible, but some of the drama's gone. Things have definitely stabilized for me personally. Hard to tell if it's the same for the general populace though. Local news remains distant and impersonal, though the recent internet (semi)rescucitation has led to a bit more variety. The streets are still filled with idlers, but there's been a definite reduction in blatantly homeless people on the streets. A result of the curfew, I can only assume.

Been poking around the edges of the 'Net some more. Interesting results. Like I said, visiting the international pages of US-based news sites -- CNN, USAToday, etc. -- leads to sites that still exist but have fallen into disrepair. You know, like an abandoned Geocities page (remember those?). Broken links. Missing images. No updates since pre-6/5.

Overseas news sites can't even be accessed. BBC, for example. 404 error.

Suspect a lot of you have already noticed for yourself, but still. Tried being a little more sneaky? Looking up, say, overseas blogs? Can't find anything. Social networking sites have limited functionality, if any...not that the lack of myspace pimped-out pages is any great loss. Blogs (like this, obviously) are still viewable but they seem to be slowly dwindling. Like, I had a few I followed, but now only one or two are still updating. Some stop providing new entries, some 404.

I'm doing this mostly for myself, sure, but...I dunno. Hate to see all this go to waste. Plus...I'm still hoping to hear from others across the nation, get some feel for how things are nationally from individuals, not from news agencies. I mean, it's most likely nothing, just people having personal issues they have to deal with interfering with passtimes. Plenty of issues to go around nowadays. Just...hm.

Really need to talk to Andy about all this.

Think I'll e-mail him now actually.

22 June 2009

One oft-overlooked benefit that came about as a result of this whole mess is the death of spam.

Look, you take the small victories where you can.

Only, it seems those days are over. I present to you, The First Spam of The Post-5/6 Era!

Some things never change. Except the world, apparently.

THE WORLD HAS CHANGED

AND YOU HAVE NO IDEA JUST HOW MUCH

Forget Sept. 11. Forget JFK. Area 51. All the conspiracy theories you THOUGHT you knew.

If they were real, it no longer matters. Because of 5/6, the past has been ELIMINATED.

You are not being WATCHED. You are not being STUDIED. You are not being READ.

ALL are being done.

PAY ATTENTION. Next month will be a COUNTERSTRIKE. Their own TOOLS can be their UNDOING.

We will PATCH TOGETHER that which they have SEVERED.

DON'T BELIEVE THE WORST. THINGS HAVE GONE BEYOND EVEN THAT.

:-Net

Really? Really??

Wonder if the Prince of Nigeria still needs some help.

21 June 2009

So if you had told me that you could get my Internet access back, I'd have been thrilled, would have hugged you, may have even promised you my firstborn. Secondborn too if I were feeling generous.

But now, after spending literally all day poking and prodding at the edges of cyberspace, instead of utterly delighted I'm more confused than anything.

Instead of the ship-lost-in-the-Pacific vastness that you usually get wading through millions of pages of Google search returns, there's a visible horizon. Trying to surf off that edge doesn't lead to infinite blackness, or to a place where Here There Be Monsters, but just a wall. An edge.

Is it just me? I mean, safe to assume that a lot of damage is still yet to be repaired. And maybe it's a regional thing, maybe I'm going through the wrong hubs to get the wrong info. I don't know. As I've said before, not an IT guy.

The things you'd go after first, they're the ones that are hardest to come across too. No, not porn. That's still there aplenty (not that, ah, I would know...ahem). But national and international news is sparse at best. Mostly just rehashes of what the President has said or done. Internationally there's next to nothing.

Lots of speculation, little hard fact. Guess I shouldn't be surprised, really.

Still hunting to see what is and isn't available, but there's definitely significantly more available for perusal.

Which is fortunate, because with the curfew I'll be around my computer a lot earlier a lot more often.

20 June 2009

Is it just me, or do a whole bunch of websites that were down seem to be back up?

19 June 2009

Chris threw out the idea today that we should all have a celebratory "ring in the curfew" party. Elle and I agreed with lukewarm enthusiasm it wasn't a bad idea (hardly something worth celebrating, but people and drink do occasionally make Things better). Cam nonchalantly pointed out that many places, including The After, would be closing at 11 so that the workers would be able to get home before curfew.

"No problem!" boomed Chris. "Plenty of time for a few after-work drinks, right?"

Guy had a point.

Wish I could say it was a good time, but the atmosphere was a bit subdued. The owner of The After was noticeably irked, flinging drinks around at the bar with little regard for fullness or accuracy. This rubbed off onto his staff, which threatened to rub off onto us.

"He's likely to lose a lot of business because of the curfew," Cam explained, nodding sympathetically to the owner.

Elle's eyes widened in understanding as she sat up straighter, brushing a strand of candy-apple-red hair from her forehead. "Not much nightlife for bars to support now, I guess...."

Chris frowned into his beer, flakes of foam hiding in his goatee. I just shrugged, never having been one for barhopping in general.

Cam congratulated us, noting that our curfew ads were airing nationally together with one or two other groups' work. he said his higher-ups were pleased with the effort, detail, and common-interest approach our projects showed. We toasted to that, but the cheer lasted about as long as the round did.

At about 10, the mood in the place had deteoriorated to the point where we were all ready to give in to the loss of our nighttime freedoms and just move on with it. Chris doggedly ordered one last round for good measure, the bar's owner giving a half-smile in appreciation. Afterwards, stepped outside, said our goodbyes and stumbled, to varying degrees, our separate ways.

And so I find myself here, killing time, doing a New Year's Eve-esque countdown. 5, 4, 3, 2, 1....

18 June 2009

Maybe you've heard the saying before, 'Idle hands are the devil's plaything.' Or something like that. Grew up down south, buckle of the Bible Belt, where if you listen to the wrong (right?) people, there were few things that WEREN'T the devil's plaything. This one stuck in memory though, because it actually makes sense.

Maybe you grew up with one of those hippie uncles, the one your parents would always talk about in hushed tones when they thought you weren't around, though really they wanted you to only think you weren't supposed to hear because they actually wanted you to learn that living THAT way was unacceptable.

That was a mouthful. Keyboardful. Whatever.

Anyway, maybe you had an uncle like that. Maybe he hit the eggnog pretty solidly one Thanksgiving and starting rambling about how he'd managed to avoid being pinned down and controlled by The Man unlike all the other sheeple in his family. Maybe you cried yourself to sleep after learning your parents could have screamfights with their brother just like you and your brothers and sisters did.

Maybe that was just me. But I digress. Point is, maybe there's a bit to what he had to say. And maybe he was also proof that the old adage we started with had some truth to it as well.

People with jobs, especially in a time of crisis, are too busy doing said jobs, too busy providing for themselves and/or their loved ones to stir up much trouble. Now, should these selfsame people be lacking in employment, well then.

Hadn't been paying much attention before, too focused on my own personal issues and problems. But it's getting to the point where it's starting to seep through my self-absorbed fog. People milling about the streets, the apartment complexes, shuffling, varying levels of furtiveness. The increase in both number and intensity of the glances at my wallet and my person when I'm able to buy my choice of the week's groceries.

Maybe it's just in my head. I mean, I mention it tonight because they mentioned it tonight on the news. Unemployment still sky-high, desperation reaching similar levels. Unemployment centers overwhelmed. Government programs unable to keep up. Situation unlikely to improve. People unable to make payments.

So many "un-"s.

As we get more and more removed from the attacks themselves and things enter a new sort of consistency, the sense of community and fear of a greater evil both dissipate. In its stead comes a more personal fear, the individual's self-preserving fear. At least, that's what I assume. Fortunately, this is merely an academic study for me. I'm one of the lucky ones.

Relatively speaking.

Still, it's nearing the point where I have to shoulder my way through the downtown streets, watch my step for loungers on the sidewalk, and feel a growing need to keep assuring myself my wallet's still in my pocket.

In potentially related news, curfew starts tomorrow. Don't forget, yeah?

17 June 2009

Picking up where I left off: the downside of sleep-deprivation-induced loopiness. Namely, seeing boogeymen in all the dark corners. Ghosts in your peripheral vision. Figuratively speaking, however. It's a bit different now that I've gotten some rest, but these phantasmic thoughts won't stop spooking me occasionally.

So we know now first-hand the deportations are real. And we know they're happening now. What else is kicking in now? Yeah. So why do I think the two are related?

Been keeping up with the local news?

Anybody else think there's been surprisingly little reaction to the deportations? And yet there was a report today about backlash "apparently over the enforced curfew," as the reporter put it. The voice-over, non-live-on-the-scene reporter. There's no other reason to assume they're protesting curfews over high gas prices, overcrowded public transportation, or horrible late-night TV lineups.

I'm just wondering if people are starting to react now that they're on slightly more stable footing, feeling a bit more confident and all. And that the curfew is, in part, a check to keep things in control should news over the deportations explode the way I'd expect it to.

I dunno. If it's even true, it may not even be a bad thing when you think about it like that.

16 June 2009

The similarities between coffee and oil are non-insignificant. Both are black liquids that, with varying amounts of refinery, become fuels. Both are largely imported, and the loss of either would lead to social instability and dramatic downturns in production and efficiency.

Conspiracy theorists need to look closer into this relationship. Notice how despite these obvious correlations, in times of crisis gas prices skyrocket while coffee remains generally steady? They know. They know that as long as we have the coffee to get us through the inconveniences of public transportation or pump-gouging, we will persevere.

Look I've been awake forever just bear with me here.

Sleep deprivation is a tool I hadn't explored before in my work and maybe it is something I should look into more. Some people call it loopy, I prefer to say I develop free-associative cognizance. But much like the Schwartz, it has an upside and a downside. For better or worse I get both.

Let's focus on the upside. We wrapped up the curfew project today. Got the now-trademark thumbs-up from Cam. Took a two-pronged approach to the situation. See, here's what I think. I think people generally fall into one of two categories. One where they have a family they care for, and one where they don't have a family they care for (be it really annoying in-laws, or lack of other live-in family members).

Prove me wrong. You can't. I win.

So for the family people, it's easy to push the whole "protect the homestead" ideal. "In these troubled times," background images of wanton destruction, "you may feel lost and helpless. Powerless against tomorrow. But you can help." Background images of random generic families of all colors and numbers, living in vast mansions to tiny apartments. "Help us protect your house. Your family. Your source of comfort and security." Background image of American flag. "Help us Hold Down the Fort."

Credits: Writing, me. Voice, Chris. Images photographed by Elle. Edited by Cam. It's the Hold Down the Fort campaign. Named it myself.

Look, told you I was tired dammit.

Now for those with whom the previous message wouldn't find resonance. They're the hard sell. The night owls, the free folk. At first, wanted to be more direct. Couldn't come up with anything and was getting frustrated. Decided we should just tell them 'look this is the way things are so just bite the proverbial bullet so that you don't end up biting a real one.'

Cam didn't go for that script. (It should be noted Chris seemed a little disappointed he wouldn't get to voice it.)

It wouldn't work, Cam reminded me, simply because it'd build resentment and that's what we're trying to avoid at all costs here. But then I was like, wait, let's change the tone then. Less belligerence, but still the same message. I mean, it's not like we can reason with a lot of these people. If they don't want to like it there's nothing we can say to change that. But if we convince them it's in their best interests...state the situation as-is, and explain the repercussions we'd like to avoid. Namely, the bullet-biting. He shrugged, his way of saying 'put it together and we'll take a look.'

"Nobody wants to be home on a Saturday night. Nobody wants to change their lifestyle due to the cowardly actions of others. But we need your help putting an end to the threat. Clear the streets before midnight. Help us rest assured the targets in our sights...are the right ones."

Cam nodded, and now Elle and Chris move on to the audio/visual aspects of it.

Now wait, you say. Those sound like TV or radio ads. What about the text ads? We're using those to focus on the details of the program. The punishments and whatnot, the stuff that'd take away a bit of the goodwill we're trying to build with the commercials. Cam put those together while we worked on the above spots.

So that's the upside of the (sleep)deprivation. The downside we'll discuss tomorrow, barring any intervening shenanigans.

Crashing starts...now.

15 June 2009

So, don't know why yet, but they're trying to hurry us up with the curfew materials. A bit of urgency that seems beyond the usual government (lack of?) efficiency.

Working way too many hours to come up with something good with everybody. All a bit stressed. Only thing I have is the facts: Goes into effect Friday at midnight (Saturday if you wanna be technical). Mandatory punishments: first offense is one month house arrest with surveillance. Second offense is six months. Third is a year's jail time. All minimums too.

This isn't gonna be an easy sell. Back to work tomorrow, far too early. So damn tired.

14 June 2009

Still here? Yeah hey so am I. Awesome.

Thought police didn't raid my apartment I guess.

Knew I was just being a dummy.

Tomorrow, work on finishing up the curfew ads.

13 June 2009

today's stats

wake-up: 2 pm (10 hours non-continuous sleep)

breakfast: dry off-brand cheerios (honey-nut)

set daily goal: do not die (thusfar successful, relatively)

Kinda hesitant to go out today. I think I'm afraid of running into John and Linda. Which is silly and dumb. But I've learned my gut usually knows what it's talking about. My instincts may be ridiculous, anti-social, and stupid, but they usually have a somewhat good reason for it.

Somewhat.

So, thusfar I've done what I usually do when something's troubling me but I can't think of a damn reason why. I try to find that reason while exploring various resting positions on the air mattress.

Had a pretty sweet double-bent-knee opposite-spread with waist half-twist, backside going on when the first of the pieces started falling into place. (Yes, I visualize my mental processes as tetris pieces.) Okay, the world has gone crazy. By now, I'm about as cool with that as I'm gonna be. But even with all the craziness, it has thusfar had a logical impact on my life.

interim activity: thumb through the PDGA magazine backwards. Wonder if any of the mail-order-disc stores advertized are still operating.

late lunch: beef jerky (far more acceptable as a main course ever since the attacks. Is meat, is nigh-nonperishable, is ubiquitous to convenience stores.)

Was perfecting my left-facing deadman with reverse-akimbo arms when the next lines came together. So there's craziness. Big deal. But until last week, the craziness wasn't controlling my life. Wasn't affecting me directly. The events in my individual existence were natural outcomes to the equations set up by the world. But lately the world's been feeding me 2 + 2 and I'm coming up with 5.

To listen to Mr. Welsh is to believe my + and I have become overnight sensations in DC. Hints that President Lee himself chose our spot to run the night of his address. On our first project together? Really?

Okay well maybe we did a good job. I do feel like we did a good job. I love the copy. So even that could have been assimilated into the natural flow of Things.

Something still missing though. Like when you get one of those funky z-blocks and no place to drop it. Always leaves that awkward little gap.

might have happened now: dozed off for half an hour? Maybe?

dinner: cheapo frozen pizza. Like, the (formerly) $1/box one, not the $1.30/box one. Always preferred the cheaper ones, crust got crisper than those the next step up.

dessert: a few marshmallows. God I love marshmallows. Fluffy sweet perfection.

By this time was reduced to fine-tuning the right-facing sideways fetal. Been a while since I've put so much effort into professional positioning.

Okay, things got a little weird when I saw the fruits of my labor on national TV. But even that had fallout that was even weirder. The whole John thing. I'm not CLOSE close to them, but close enough to be more than a little shaken the night they came for him. But then, to be told that because he wanted me to be happy and productive, Mr. Welsh had single-handedly reinstated John's citizenship and saved him from a hazily-defined deportation?

(Now we're getting somewhere now there's a nice little trough on the side and a l-block coming up next I think I've got this...)

For me, Mr. Welsh had sliced through who knows how much red tape in a time when the red tape is toughening to near-steel strength. For me...or for what I've done?

For what I've done, and have the potential to do later?

Am I in debt to this guy now?

BAM TETRIS WHOLE SCREEN CLEAR LEVEL UP FANFARE OF SUCCESS

Why does that thought feel so ominous? That's it though; that's what's bothering me. I feel like I'm in some insane debt to my boss. But he's shown no sign of this being an issue...given me no reason to feel like I should worry about being in his debt. So he did me a favor, right? People do that sometimes.

But of this magnitude?

I don't know. But some of the things he's said, the ease with which he accomplishes things, the complete confidence in a time of national uber-uncertainty...it just feels WEIRD man.

Okay so maybe it is time I started fitting myself for a tinfoil hat. But I got a safeguard. I got this figured out. If I were REALLY paranoid, if I REALLY believed things were far deeper than the little divot they usually are, then why the hell would I post this online? Especially considering my position?

No, this is my litmus. Everything's fine.

official end of forced consciousness: thinking maybe around 3 am, depends really

daily goal status: successful (pending...)

12 June 2009

So I realized something today. These deportations. Where, exactly, do those unlucky enough to not have randomly important friends end up? I mean, are they just kinda being kicked out, shown the door, and told to have a good life, don't come back? Who would take them? And how many ended up being deported?

And why aren't we hearing more about this? I mean, it seems a pretty harsh way to deal with POTENTIALLY illegal immigrants. But then...I guess it's meant to weed out terrorist elements?

Drastic times, drastic measures?

And God I don't know how I feel about what happened. I mean, I'm glad. I'm glad that I could help John. But...what's going on, when the whim of a sleep-deprived copywriter dictates the future of some random guy?

Maybe some things just shouldn't be questioned too much?

11 June 2009

Yeah. Today.

Lunch couldn't come too soon to interrupt a horribly inefficient, unproductive morning. The +mates kept to their parts of the project after I explained what had happened the night before, respecting the fact that I'd be pretty much useless for a while.

So I snuck away a few minutes early to find a nice quiet corner in the cafeteria. But about halfway into the turkey and cheese on rye, my boss sat down across from me.

"I see we've got deli meats in again."

"Small blessings." Worked up a small smile, gotta show some interest in the boss and all.

"Hm." Momentary silence. "So what's eating my master marketer, then? You feeling alright?"

Shook my head. "Nope. No sleep last night. My neighbor...."

"Some frisky young'uns making you jealous, hm? Heh! You should move out anyway, you'll be able to afford much better if your work keeps grabbing this level of attention."

"Not that. Heart-rending wails of desperation, more like."

"Difference being...?"

Cut my eyes at him, sharp as razors. In retrospect, not a good idea towards the guy who's your lifeline. To his credit, he immediately looked apologetic.

"You're serious, then. What happened?"

Filled him in. The whole story, from why John and Linda were out of town, all the way up to last night. At the end he sat there for a bit. Finally,

"His name's John Burgess, you say? A good friend, then?"

"Closest thing to friends I've had here for a while."

Another pause. Then, slapping the table, he stood. "Come by my office after work. We can't afford to have you out-of-sorts, now can we?" A smile, a pat on the shoulder, a genuine impression of concern.

Of course, after that, I was even more useless. On top of being an emotionally-troubled zombie, I now had to deal with puzzlement over what Mr. Welsh wanted with me.

Beat my head against the keyboard periodically. This was in hopes of accomplishing at least one of two things: rendering myself unconscious, or randomly piecing together some decent copy and thus salvage a rotting, moldering waste of a day.

Finally gave up on the day and made my way to Mr. Welsh's office. Got a "Come in!" almost before I knocked.

"One Mr. Johnathan T. Burgess is currently having his background thoroughly examined. Provided all is clean and clear, he will be given late re-registration privileges and allowed to return home by next week."

Still standing in the doorway. Bit confused. "Wait, so...he wasn't going to be deported?"

"Oh yes, he was very much on his way out of the country. I'm not sure where, so I can't say he's NECESSARILY better off, but thanks to you he'll be able to remain here with his wife."

Collapsed into the chair he gestured to in front of his desk. Cushy leather deal, dark brown. Very upper-executive. "Oh thank--wait. Thanks to who?"

"You, of course."

"Me? What I do?"

"You told me about him. But to be more precise, you've proven your worth." He leaned forward, hands in front, fingers interlocked and pointing in my direction. "The way things are right now, we have to help those whose help we need in return."

I can only imagine the face I made. Take utter confusion, blend with a suffocating need for sleep, top with the light sweetness of good news. The message got across though.

"Heheh, don't worry about it right now, son. You keep doing good work here and come to me whenever you have any problems, alright?" Fatherly smile.

Felt like I was supposed to nod there, so I did.

"I'd give you tomorrow off, but like I said, we need your help. The curfew isn't going to sell itself. Go home and get some rest, alright?"

Nodded again.

"...Mr. Wall...?"

Nod.

"...you can go home now."

Nod.

Mr. Welsh inclined his head toward his door.

Oh right. Got up and shambled out. Then remembered something and stuck my head back in.

"Don't...don't tell them about this, alright? I don't want...it just...I..."

A smile. "Not a problem."

10 June 2009

I think they came for John.

I can't sleep for Linda's wailing.

She won't answer her door.

I'm gonna be a wreck at work tomorrow.

Not that I'm in any position to complain.

09 June 2009

Hey you remember when bananas were 69 cents/lb.?

Hey you remember when you could still BUY bananas?

Man I miss me some bananas.

One could say I'm going...

...hungry every morning. Because I eat...ate them for breakfast. You know. Back then.

See bet you thought I was going to make a bad joke. But I didn't. And yet...is that in itself a bad joke?

Deep thoughts.

So guess whose job it is to put a positive spin on this nationally-imposed curfew? Yeah. I mean, I have to hand it to whoever it was that gave the job specifics: they made sure to clarify that the project was more than just informing the populace. "Subtle and unique methods of encouraging cooperation are sought," Cam relayed.

"In other words, another serving of our usual."

Which makes sense. People are more cooperative when they think they're doing something they want to do. Just ask any parent.

We're competing with several other PSA groups nation-wide, though Mr. Welsh has been hinting that we'll be given first-glance until and unless we start to slip. Which is reassuring, because I'm enjoying this.

It's a pretty neat little mental exercise. First, I have to find a way to convince myself that whatever I'm making the public aware of is something I firmly believe is a good idea. I mean, in general I have no major gripes with the policies...may not like them, but I can see the good and potential necessity in them.

Anyway, convince myself that it's not just a necessary evil, but a downright brilliant idea. Then I write out whatever arguments I used. Bounce them around the +. Wash, rinse, repeat.

I don't wanna reveal too much about what we've come up yet for the curfew, but progress is being made. Elle seems to be having a little trouble with this one though. "Too much a night owl, guys," she apologizes.

I sympathize. You only have to look at the timestamps to see why. I'm usually not asleep for a good 2-3 hours after writing. But by now I'm used to being home in time to get these entries down around the time the curfew would kick in anyway.

Least there was a full moon to enjoy last night.

08 June 2009

With the State of the Nation speech out of the way, let's turn to the State of the City.

Vitals: Gas around the $6/gal mark. Milk similar. Bread remains cheap, though non-regional produce is literally impossible to find now.

National chain restaurants are menu crapshoots. Every day items available for order change. With no way to communicate inventory needs, it's impossible for necessary shipments to arrive in as timely a fashion as before.

A shame. I coulda really gone for some popcorn chicken tonight.

Of course, the same problem carries over to all stores. The good news out of all of this, however, is that shipments ARE arriving. Fears of running out of supplies are starting to subside a bit.

Due to the attacks though, people have stopped spending. Saving up just-in-case. There was a minor boom just after the attacks; people stocking up on survival necessities (hm, should maybe rethink my choice of words). But now everybody's holding their breath and their wallets to see where we go from here. And with money freezing up, jobs are drying up. Unemployment's skyrocketing. In response I hear some local property owners are giving rent holidays to recently laid-off tenants, but of course not everybody's so kind. So homelessness is up as well.

Will be interesting to see how the homeless are dealt with once the curfew kicks in.

Other than that, people are settling into a routine that resembles the pre-attack rhythm. More walkers and cyclists now, less rush and noise, but there are hints of a return to life.

Maybe some good has come from all this. Hard to argue against it when rush-hour traffic jams are a thing of the past.

Anyway, gonna go out to find a place to stare at the stars and the lightning bugs for a few hours while I still have the opportunity.

G'nite.

07 June 2009

"There you are!"

"hu--OOF! Hey Chris."

Dude can give a backpound with the best of 'em.

Cramped wooden tables between wall and stools. Green hooded lights hang from the ceiling. Dark bar atmosphere, minus the smoke. City outlawed smoking in public buildings a few months before the attacks. Personally thankful for that, though it does take a bit away from the otherwise noir feeling The After typically has. The post-5/6 haze that's replaced it, however, is just as carcinogenic.

Bursting through it, nova-esque, is the table where my +mates are at. Cam waved us over. Elle too, smile as bright as her now-orange hair.

Orange? Why?

They stood and we all shook hands, smiled, hugged, celebrated, etc'ed.

"Brilliant idea! This is all you man."

"Nah, nothing would've come of it without your touches."

"You realize the project's been renamed because of us? Guns for Hope?"

"God, how corny."

"But it's OUR corn."

"Tastes the sweetest!"

"Cheers to that!"

And then James Welsh materialized.

"Didn't anyone ever tell you people that if you set the bar too high on your first try, you have to do even better later? Your work'll never be good enough for me after that display!"

His grin, however, was as genuine as his threat empty.

"Have your fill folks. Your spot is the national face of the Guns for Hope project, so relax while you can. We'll be doing local, regional, AND national projects from here on out. You've made a name for yourselves, and you'll see how important that is nowadays."

"Wouldn't have it any other way, sir." Cam nodded to our boss.

Conversation became informal after that, as James blended into the group. During the celebratory buzz, I nudged the quietest of the members.

"You manage to catch the rest of the address after the ad, Elle?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah. Chris mentioned you'd blanked after seeing it; I didn't believe him." Sip of her drink. "Guess he was being serious for once."

"Yeah, well, can't say much in my defense. But fill me in?"

"Hm. We've got a curfew starting next week. Midnight without a permit."

"Ew. Why?"

"Didn't say directly, though he gave the impression it tied into the same reasons for the Guns program. Trying to reduce some of the looting and lawlessness still going on. Preventative too, against further attacks."

"We really having that much of a problem nationally? I mean, isn't the looting mostly in the attacked cities?"

She shrugged. "I don't like the feeling of it, but who would? Still, everything that's been done so far has had a positive impact so I'm not going to argue." Brushes hair from face, then fingers tap drink glass. "Everything else was about telecom stuff."

"Damn, I missed that? They say anything about the internettage they promised, what, weeks ago?"

Blue eyes smile. "Geek. Jonesing for connectivity, hm?"

"Guilty. So...?"

Laughter. "Said they're still working on it. Trying to patch security holes that were exploited in the 5/6 attacks."

"Damn."

"Yeah. Local phone lines are back up though."

Twirl of my index finger. Whoopie. "Yeah, I noticed. But how can cell service be up locall--"

"Y'all need anything more to drink?" Cam leaned toward us, quite obviously well along in his celebrations.

"Nah man, I'm fine."

"Fine, thanks."

Chris jumped in. "C'mon you two, it's FREE! Stop being shy!"

"Son, are you trying to break me?" James chuckled good-naturedly.

"Hey, you offered!"

Elle turned back to me. "Yeah, I don't know the logistics, and it still seems spotty. But it's a small sign we're moving on. And...OH! The big thing. The President's starting a nationally-broadcast TV and radio station controlled by the White House to make it easier to keep the populace informed."

"And you know who's going to be producing the PSAs for the station, yes?" James leaned towards me.

Took a second for that to sink in. "W...wait. You mean we...?"

"Well, you all, plus other groups who submit good work, but you've definitely placed us at the front of the line."

"Huuuhhhh...."

An electric jolt. Elle patted my shoulder. Nail polish still the same as her last hair color. Guess she was in a rush? "Hey, job security. It's a good thing."

James smiled. "Cheers to that." Raised glass.

"Cheers." All around.

06 June 2009

--ringtone, my favorite song as of 2 months ago--

--cussing, fumbling around my room, shock--

"Uh, h-hello?"

"You saw that, didn't ya?"

"W..what? Cam? Yeah, yeah I did but how--"

"Local lines are back up, didn't you hear?"

"Yeah, but no, no I didn't, and this is my ce--"

"Callin' from my landline. You're fine."

"I...I guess? But that's ridi--"

"Did ya catch ANYTHING after the spot last night?"

"Not a thing...I mean...I saw that, right? That happened, right?"

"Shit yeah it happened! Look, just get down to the After. Welsh is buyin'. We're national!"

"So it was...?"

"Yeah, just get here! I'll fill you in on everything you missed."

05 June 2009

State of the Nation speech: The CliffsNotes version

Well not really CliffsNotes. I mean, I'm not explaining what he said. It's pretty self-explanatory. I just...listen, look, bear with me here, I'm a mess.

"Our country, our very lives, changed forever."

"Sleeper cells awakened simultaneously."

"Unprecedented coordination."

"Frankly, we were caught not just with our pants down. We were caught with our skivvies (well okay he didn't say skivvies but c'mon just imagine him saying it...hilarious, yes?) around our ankles, making funny poses at the mirror."

And the bombshell: "We cannot be 100% certain that all elements have been discovered."

Dramatic pause for effect.

"We have no reason to believe there will be further attacks. We have heard no 'chatter.' We have not stopped any continuing attacks. But given how unawares we were caught the first time, I cannot in good faith promise it is over. I can promise, however, to do everything possible to ensure this does not happen again."

So of course I'm thinking, at this point, then what about the project I've been working on this past week? People are gonna want to--

"Naturally, people will wish to protect and defend themselves. They have that Constitutional right. But I do not want this to devolve into vigilante justice, which is often little more than thinly disguised racial violence. ALL use of lethal force, both by law enforcement officers and by common citizens, will be thoroughly investigated and the harshest punishments sought for convictions."

Well fair enough, I figure. The Second Amendment is in play without any political interpretations, but people know their actions have consequences.

From there President Lee segued into restating his guns-for-food program, drastic increase in police and military hires, statistics from the first few days, and the like.

"Already the program is showing signs of success, in many ways. And perhaps in some unexpected ways as well."

At which point, the impossible happened. All I remember is Chris's voice.

"Times are tough...."

04 June 2009

Orange-brown legal-sized envelope lying opened on the desk. Papers scattered, final drafts under scrutiny. Flourescent overheads buzz. Three pairs of lungs frozen. One pair operates slowly, their owner lost in study.

"Man, that's awesome stuff and you know it. Let's go home." Chris shatters the lung-ice and the silence.

Cam slowly places the papers down. Scratches his beard; pushes his glasses up. Same slow breathing rhythm. Stares straight forward, away from us. Slowly, both hands rise, thumbs-up. He turns and grins.

"I think we got something good goin' here guys. Great stuff, the Cheif'll be happy with this. I'll pass it on."

Chris whoops with approval. Elle flashes that Smile To End All Smiles and her body sags with a sigh of relief. Me? Fistpump. I'm big on fistpumps.

And with that, our first project is complete. No celebrations yet; we still don't know how far our ads will be shown. Again, we're guaranteed city-wide exposure. County-wide and we'll order a celebratory lunch pizza. State-wide, though...state-wide will net us each a $1,000 bonus. Nation-wide's not even worth mentioning. I'm not sure it goes that high, and even if it does, surely they've got professionals taking care of projects of that size.

We took three different angles with the guns-for-food program. Our instructions, interestingly enough, were not just to inform, but to sell the program a bit. The Higher-Ups wanted to make sure people were taking the government up on its offer. Restores faith and builds trust, they emphasized. Very important in the post-attack world.

Angle 1 was the Vanilla Angle. No plays on the public's emotions, just an appeal to reason. Listed the facts of the program, where to take weapons and ammunition, and why this was what you wanted to do. Namely, you can't consume gunpowder, and squirrel meat is too gamey for most meat dishes.

Angle 2 was the Stats Angle. Did you know how much the average handgun was worth? How many loaves of bread, cans of soup, diapers, bottles of aspirin that translated into? Were you aware that, since 5/6, nearly 67% of break-ins resulted in stolen guns? That in half of reported break-ins involving the use of firearms, it was the intruder using the soon-to-be-victims' weapon? Have you noticed that Police and Special Forces have increased their numbers by 300% (500% over the next two weeks),
and are now patrolling residential areas on a regular basis? Now you know. (The numbers were provided; we weren't told how the data was gathered but we were assured they were accurate.)

Angle 3 was my baby. I came up with it after speaking with Linda, and with a little research the numbers provided a strong base to an emotional argument. Numbers-wise, even before the attack there was a strong positive correlation between firearm ownership and suicide. The correlation skyrocketed after 5/6, as did instances of domestic violence involving firearms.

"Times are tough. Why tempt fate? Turn your guns into food. Turn you guns into provisions. Turn your guns into Hope."

Oh yeah. Powerful stuff.

03 June 2009

Checked my e-mail today, for the hell of it more than anything really. I mean, with half the internet inaccessible, nationwide communication slowed to a snail's pace, and my luck being what it is it'd be an exercise in futility. But the need for information sometimes overrides reason.

So imagine my surprise to find an e-mail from Andy, dated a couple of days ago.

Basically, he explained how he'd noticed that he was still getting e-mails from friends located relatively near him. Why and how geography should interfere with e-mail was beyond him (and me for that matter, but this is more his line of expertise), but he was working on it in his off-time.

"It just feels wrong, man."

But in the meantime, how was I doing, had I found a job, did I need a place to crash, or maybe a large cardboard box to borrow?

I wrote him back, thanking him and bragging about my position. Then,

Sending...

Sending...

Sending...

(about now I'm ready to accept it was a fluke, or maybe a letter that snuck through during the short uptime from before)

Sending...

Sending...

Sent.

Wait what?

Took forever, but eventually got the Sent! confirmation. Maybe all that talk about working to restore the network was more than the usual empty government promises?

Anyway.

We're almost finished with the guns-for-food project. I'll detail more about it tomorrow. We've got a 30-second public service tv ad and radio ad (I wrote the scripts, they are awesome and informative and perfect). Elle's putting the finishing touches on the print ad. Tomorrow, provided everything passes Cam's approval, Chris will do the voiceovers and we'll ship everything out. Our ads will run throughout the city, and depending on how effective they are, could be shown to a wider region.

Guess it's a bit ambitious to shoot for creating the state's official campaign on my first project, but no point in aiming low, yah?

02 June 2009

Had to do a quick press release today announcing a special 'State of the Nation' prepared video to be broadcast on all stations on the one-month anniversary of the attack, June 5th/6th. The wording was interesting. My instructions were to make it sound like required viewing if at all possible, which strikes me as funny simply because anyone and everyone capable of doing so, would do so.

Still getting used to working with the other members of our little +. We haven't done much of anything together ever since that one party none of us seem to remember too clearly, but we all have a vague sense of getting along well.

Cam seems to be the elder of the group, relatively speaking. He's the guy we all report to with our projects, whether they be individual assignments or group works. Dark-haired, tall, lanky, goateed. Thin black-wire glasses.

Chris so far has acted as my backup when it comes to scriptwriting for any audio or visual ads. He'll also be the voice behind any tv or radio spots I write up. Thick without being fat, a little taller than me (making him average height, I guess). Spiky brown hair that seems to spark with an energy he's always trying to find a way to expel.

Elle is the graphic designer of the group. Petite. Hair today is purple. Long and straight. Asymmetrical ear piercings. Fashionable in that way those gifted in the visual arts always seem to be. No glasses covering her blue eyes (too bad). Head always bobbing to music only she can hear. Wonder what her favorite band is. And oh my god that smile.

oh my god

01 June 2009

Started on my first project today. We'll get to that in a sec. First...concerning the future of my blog. I've done a lotta thinking after how surrprisingly...detailed...the background check on me was. It's obvious that they were checking up on my internet activity somehow, but they never mentioned specifics. Never quoted me on anything I said.

I suspect they tracked me via e-mail address, through site registrations and the like, but aren't looking too deeply at WHAT I write. I have no way of knowing this, other than a suspicion they would have dropped a little hint that my words were watched.

Unless they WANT me to think that.

Oh god where's my tinfoil....

But seriously, there's no way they're watching everything everybody says, even if it were only city employees. I can't take chances, I know, and yet I'd hardly call this 'taking a chance.' I'll keep writing, and I'll keep chronicling what I can. I can't stand the thought of censoring myself. I mean, we ARE still America, even if it is a time of crisis. If my employers don't like something I say, IF they see it, they'll talk to me about it. It's not like I'm talking bad about them or giving them a bad name.

I guess I'm still just a little spooked from the, ah, discussion, last week.

Obviously though, if something comes across my desk labelled 'top secret,' well, you guys won't be hearing a thing about it.

My first project had no such label. And, if I do my job right, you should be able to see the final result of my work by the end of the week. I was given full details about the guns-for-food program I mentioned before, and it's my job to create PSAs to help spread the word and encourage people to participate.

I've got several angles to go with here. I mean, it's easy to go with the stats of how often weapons kept for personal security are used against the owner. But then, Linda's story would make a great one as well, in a way. How the gun can be used to escape your troubles in a far-more-positive manner.

Deadline's end of work Friday to have a TV and radio ad script, as well as print ad details. I'll be sure to put up what I can on here.

God, Linda...hope her husband got registered. Or at least that there are special exceptions for those dealing with special circumstances.

31 May 2009

And on the Sabbath day, he rested.

Where rest is defined as got in a round of disc golf. A very unsatisfying round. A very wet round.

Watching a disc fly off and make an unexpected slow arc towards the stream is a less-than-life-affirming feeling. Knowing the water is knee-deep while not knowing where extra discs can be purchased, or if they're still being produced, combine into knowing that I'll suffer wetleg until I can walk back home.

Slipping on a rock saved me from suffering wetleg. Instead I was treated to a full-body soaking.

Some people pay good money for this kind of entertainment.

Unpredictable disc flight is often due to wind. With summer coming on, the wind is usually a welcome companion otherwise. But of course, today we weren't on speaking terms, Mr. Wind and I.

As I approached my complex, dripping and cussing, I noticed my mailbox. Haven't checked it in days. Something was sticking out, unable to fit completely in the box.

My first issue of the PDGA member magazine had arrived.

30 May 2009

Today I ran into Linda, the person whose apartment was broken into earlier. Happened to run across each other at the complex. I've always been acquaintances with her and John, they met me back when I was first moving in. Like I said, I don't do much in the way of socialization, but we always speak when we bump into each other, occasionally meet up when we're feeling like a cookout or something of the sort. We spent some time catching up.

We got around to the break-in. Police still haven't found who broke in, and she's pretty much given up hope of that happening. She said it was funny, though. Not much was taken. Their TV, computer, and not much else. Jewelry, money, other valuables were left behind. We figure they must have been noticed in the act.

"But if that's the case, y'know, why didn't the cops find anyone who saw 'em in the act?"

A good question, I had to admit.

I asked her where she and John had been. Turns out they have...had...family in Atlanta. Family that worked at CNN Headquarters.

"I...y'know...I can't really describe it. It's more than a nightmare. It's a real nightmare. I mean, it's reality. It's not some dream. It's actually happened down there.

"CNN Headquarters are gone. But throughout the city there are other obliterated blocks, or other streets where the rubble is still being sifted through. It wasn't just CNN, y'know? There were other buildings, other businesses....

"The trip cost us half our savings. Between gas, food, and panic inflation it's a wonder we still have some left. John stayed down to help with the cleanup and rebuild. I had to get back, y'know? I couldn't stay there and watch 'em.

"We had to 'park' our car on the outskirts. It's like people were gathering for a concert, or a big campout. All of 'em out there with their tents and depression. Transportation into the city was provided, for a fee. So many people doing what we were doing, looking for loved ones, leaving empty-handed."

She got choked up. I didn't press the point.

"Atlanta ain't there any more. It's not Atlanta. It'd be hell, but at least the police are keeping the panicked jackasses from causing too many problems. Some people snap, but it's dealt with pretty quickly. But that doesn't stop...doesn't stop people from takin' care of themselves...the last night I was there, the tent next to ours...." She mimed a gun next to her head. "Pehw. Y'know?" She bit her lip and turned away, looking down. "Was time for me to come back."

Man...how do you offer sympathies for that? And I dared not ask about her family. Conversation kinda broke down at that point. As we gave our quiet goodbyes, I remembered something. Asked if she'd registered yet.

"Do what?"

"You gotta register again with the city hall. Guess public records were damaged or something."

"No...we haven't done that. Hadn't heard a thing."

"Be sure to get down there. If you don't register by the end of the...oh god."

"What?"

She didn't have any way of getting in touch with John. "If you don't register by the end of the month, they're threatening deportation."

Panic flashed across her face, hand going to halfway to her mouth before she shook her head. "No way they'll be that cruel. They gotta understand the situation some of us are in, y'know?"

I think she wanted my confirmation. I couldn't give it.

"I'll go tomorrow. John'll figure something out, I'm sure."

I'm sure.

29 May 2009

So. Yesterday.

Oh god yesterday.

Let's...if you...okay...

Man, I don't even know where to start. Let's start like this. I now know why they give you a 3-day weekend after orientation.

They're not TOTAL cold-hearted bastards.

Take some steel wool. Stretch it, roll it out, get it into a nice, long, comparatively thin strip. Okay so you probably can't do that with steel wool but imagine something like that. With me so far?

Now, floss between your ears vigorously while admitting to every negative or anti-governemt thought you've ever had, ever.

Keep doing so until the goo leaking out your ears is the consistency of applesauce.

Serve warm. Feeds 2. 300 calories/serving.

Yesterday was the part of government work they don't advertise. I guess maybe my work will be a little more sensitive than I previously imagined. But to finalize my orientation I had to take part in a background check/personal interview while strapped to a lie detector.

We started at about 9:15. Dude walked in, lean guy with that half-scruffy look of someone who knows he looks better with a day's growth. Friendly enough but with an ex-military air of situational command about him. Asked me if there was anything I needed, maybe some water, strapped me in and sat down in front of me. Room was lit but subdued, little more than a library reading room. Wall color hard to determine from the lighting. Stainless steel desks for the machinery and paperwork. A couple of simple wooden chairs, comfortable enough. Could have used a little more ventilation.

The interviewer apologized, said it was routine, not to feel like I was accused of anything. Then, with arched eyebrow, half-smile, asked if maybe I SHOULD feel accused of anything?

No no, of course not, I assured him. He smiled understandingly.

"Well let's find out then." A nod, a flip of a switch, a pen scratching on paper, and we were off.

Started innocuously enough. Name, address, previous addresses, any foreign travel experience, any personal references.

"Are you or have you ever been a member of any online organizations?"

I paused for a second, looking up. "No, not that I recall."

He glanced at me, eyes suddenly sharp, digging. "Funny, we have you listed as registered at the following sites." He showed me a page listing several of the message boards I frequented at one time or another.

Oh hey I've been spied on. That's grand.

The machine flickered; the interviewer's eyes flick up. He leaned forward.

"I hardly posted here, I was mostly just an observer. Even then they were just hobbies, I'd hardly call them organizations."

"We do. Especially this one." He pointed to the address of the site I visited back during the temporary Internet uppage. "Quite a few on this site express opinions that would be...detrimental...to a successful career here."

"Heh, I won't argue that, but if you know I'm a member there then you can easily look up my posts."

"Just because you don't post doesn't mean you don't read. Several days ago, did you visit this site?"

"You mean, when Internet access came back to life for a bit?" I nodded. "Sure, but just to catch up with the latest news."

"You call what you find here news?"

"Well, okay, I guess I should say opi--"

"What topics did you read about?"

"Just a few theories about what hap--"

"Conspiracies. Your thoughts on them?"

"Well, I've never been much of a tin-foil-hatter, 9/11 truther type. I was just looking to see if anyone had anything solid to report."

"Did you join any groups forming on that site." It wasn't exactly a question. I thought back.

I had typed my e-mail address in, but I got the error message after. "No, I didn't."

"Try again." Veiled threat?

I freaked a little bit here. "I didn't, I swear. I typed my e-mail address in to keep track with some friends, but before I could send the connection went back dead. Nothing happened."

The interviewer leaned back. "Be aware, sir, your future employment here is dependent on keeping vital government information secret and personal. Should we have any reason to believe that there is any sort of leak, you will be terminated."

Maybe it was just me, but there seemed to be a bit of a heavier touch on his last word.

He smiled. "Let's move on."

He asked me a few questions related to the robbery at my apartment complex. Seemed concerned about the situation. Asked how the security system was holding up, if I had had any issues. Then we moved on to friends, associates, and even forgotten classmates. That was about as pleasant as the online-association conversation.

"Do you remember" insert name here.

"Uh..."

"Seventh grade. Same homeroom."

"Vaguely? Maybe?"

"When was the last time you talked with" whoever.

"Seventh grade homeroom."

A quiet voice. "Try not to get smart. Leave the intelligence to me."

Dude was GOOD with the implied threat. His voice was quietness and promised pain.

"Do you remember" someone else. "Tenth grade French class. Now under suspicion of working overseas. Any contact with them recently?"

"What about --"

"Have you heard from --"

"-- is registered in our files as a terrorist sympathizer"

"...gotten in touch with --"

"NO, OKAY? NO I HAVE NOT HEARD FROM ANY OF THESE PEOPLE. HELL I HAVEN'T EVEN THOUGHT OF THEM IN YEARS AND WOULD PREFER TO FORGET MOST OF THEM."

A pause. A silence. An eternity of staredown.

"...for your job safety," again, funny emphasis, "keep it that way." He stood. "And one last thing. We know about the blog. We don't mind the blog. Just make sure you respect the level of security appropriated to each individual project. We're not monsters here." The lower half of his face smiled. Then he exited, leaving me sitting there for about half an hour.

Finally the door opened again, and Mr. Welsh entered, all smiles and relaxation. "My apologies, Mr. Wall. Hate to welcome you to the family that way, but we can't be too careful. ESPECIALLY nowadays. I'm sure you understand?"

I wiped a bit of sweat from my forehead. "Yeah, I mean yes sir, sure. Still, wow."

He arched an eyebrow, but still smiling, still friendly. "Wow?"

"Yeah. You guys are thorough."

"It's part of the job, I'm afraid. Welcome to the New World. At least you're a part of it, right?"

Seemed to be a bit of significance to that statement that I was too tired to try to sort through. I just nodded.

He handed me one of his business cards. "Here, show this at the pub across the street. They'll make sure you get patched up properly. I can't have you walking out of here too torn up. Save that for over there!" He laughed. Confidence and friendliness.

I nodded my thanks, and was allowed to leave. I saw my +mates at the pub, but they looked as zapped as I was and barely recognized me.

We were all happier trying to patch our psyches back together on our own, I think.

28 May 2009

we'll \talk tomorrowr honehy. ijust wanna forget about today

27 May 2009 evening

Nope, I wasn't the only one. Chris, Cam, and Elle, my three companions from the night before, were just as ragged. And once my hangover subsided, my initial assessment of this job still held.

So cubicle jobs get a bad rap. Fair enough. But when 1) your survival depends on holding down a source of regular income and 2) the only other job you've had before is behind a register, cubicles don't seem so bad at all. Downright comfy, really.

Yesterday was the paperwork and the tour. I'm in a smaller cubicle farm up on a higher floor in the city hall building. The computer I get to play with? Droolworthy. Two monitors at the same time? Hell, just one of them's twice the size of this laptop's screen. Even have my own little daily-emptied trash can. Nice.

Cubicles walls are set up in a +, with the 'offices' in each of the four corners. The three people I mentioned before share a + with me. I seem to remember my +mates being pretty awesome. That's about all I remember from last night. Didn't spend much time with them today. I'm hoping that won't be a trend....

Today was an introduction both to the job benefits and to some of the work I'd be responsible for. First and foremost benefits-wise, there's a small pay advance for those "facing extreme financial circumstances," as the paperwork claims.

Needless to say I qualified.

Turns out I DID get the PSA editor position. After orientation, I "will be responsible for taking government health, safety, security, etc. notices and passing them on to the public through various media outlets." In other words, I take pompous legalese, turn it into stuff people can understand at a glance, and spread it over the airwaves and, er, paperwaves?

The best part? NO CUSTOMERS.

27 May 2009 ohgod make the alarm stop owowowow

ugh...my only consolation this morning is that I can't be the only one feeling this horrible.

didn't know steamrollers could fit inside my apartment. without waking me. nor that they could run me over multiple times without busting the air mattress.

wonders never cease.

26 May 2009 waytoolaet

I think...I think I love my job.

I think I love my job and I think I love my coworkers and especially Elle.

Think that's how it's spelled god I can't remember can you

No you can't you can't hear me you weren't there and you're not here and that is ok!

I bettre sleep the screen won't hold still why wont you hold still screen i did not tell yo uto spin!

SPIIIIIIN!

Ok no more spin please.

ohgod it's late how late were we out

25 May 2009

So a little more about the job.

I start tomorrow, 9 am, for orientation.

And that's all I know at this point.

President Lee released another video today. I'm sure the man is busy trying to hold together a nation fragmented by the devastating attacks a month ago, but I wish he'd do these more often. We could use some optimism as a nation. A reminder we ARE a nation.

Seriously, this guy...I almost forget which party he's from. Which makes sense. Partisan bickering was finally shown for the childish drama it was when framed by an honest nation-threatening situation. But I'm talking even before then. Always deftly dodging the bait-loaded questions of politically-slanted shows and reporters, but doing so with answers that weren't insubstantial. He answered your question, but on his terms. And yet, the answer never easily fit into any black-or-white political ideology. I mean, sure, he obviously LEANED one way with his focus on change, but in the same breath he always managed to touch upon multiple views of the same coin. And he gave all views a fair shake.

And when he does make a stand, when he does say "I'm sorry, but I can only see THIS as being what should be done," he does so in a way that placates all but the most hard-lined of his opposition.

Which is good, because he's started taking a stand. Some people may be off-put by the control he's exerting, but really, I find it a relief that somebody's taking charge and doing SOMETHING to restore normalcy. I mean, crazy times call for crazy measures, right?

Makes sense to me.

So the re-registration isn't a big deal. I'm already done; I'm sure lots of records were lost in the attacks. Makes sense. Also if you're reading this I HOPE YOU'VE REGISTERED. Get it done...I'd hate to see anybody I know deported. Less than a week guys. Get on it.

One thing that IS a big deal though, and something I find to be a rather brilliant move, is the guns-for-food program he announced. In case you didn't see the report, the basics: anybody who brings in live ammunition or registered guns will receive an equivalent amount of foodstamps. This should take a significant amount of weapons out of the hands of would-be looters. People who were considering using their weapons to take food can now trade them to EARN food.

Yeah, I like the idea. But I did have worries -- won't that give even more power to those who hold on to their weapons?

Well, it could, President Lee admitted. However (and this is the biggest of the big deal), the President has declared a type of martial law, making armed robbery a capital offense. One punishable by local law enforcement.

I mean, I've got mixed feelings. Putting that kind of power in the hands of local police? But I think his stipulations, coupled with the fact that we ARE in the situation we're in, justify his actions. (For the record, any officer who uses deadly force is out of a job pending a jury's review. If the review clears him or her, they can go back to work. If they are found to have acted improperly, they face a capital offense charge themselves.)

I don't think I'm the only one who sees this as a necessary evil, especially in the context outlined by President Lee. Though it's odd not being able to switch to a cable network and see talking heads talking about how foolish, outlandish, country-ruiningish the idea is. Still, would anybody make such claims right now?

President Lee went on to mention progress made in restoring national networks, though conspicuously missing from his released statement was anything touching on the half-day of complete access. Maybe it was just a trial run?

And is anybody surprised that the attacks have been linked to Al-Qaida? I had hoped the War on Terror had busted up their organization beyond the ability to pull off something like this. Guess not....

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