120 lines
6.7 KiB
Plaintext
120 lines
6.7 KiB
Plaintext
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_____________ _/_/ | | \ \ _/_/ _____________
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| ___________ _/_/ | | \ \ _/_/ ___________ |
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| | _/_/_____ | | > > _/_/_____ | |
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| | /________/ | | / / /________/ | |
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| | c o m m u n i c a t i o n s | |
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| |________________________________________________________________| |
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|____________________________________________________________________|
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...presents... F23
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by Obscure Images
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>>> a cDc publication.......1993 <<<
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-cDc- CULT OF THE DEAD COW -cDc-
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____ _ ____ _ ____ _ ____ _ ____
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|____digital_media____digital_culture____digital_media____digital_culture____|
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"Forgive me father for I have sinned."
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Terrance Braintrust sat in the confessional, enshrouded in darkness. As
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he said the words, his eyes glazed over. He sat in silence awaiting
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instructions.
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A small cable snaked out of the wood of the confessional and into his arm.
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There was a slight click as the end of the cable snapped into the small port in
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his wrist. Small letters began to glow inside of his brain.
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"FNORD Unit 23-Weisshaupt Class connected. Report."
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"The mission was successfully completed, there was no detection.
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Operation Pentapus phase three was completed. Awaiting instructions,"
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subvocalized Terrence
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"Very good. Operation Pentapus is waiting for Weishaupt Class 17 to
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complete the mission and report. You are instructed to wait for further
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orders. Report in three weeks. Memory graft proceeding."
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Terrence left the booth, feeling much better. The father had given him 15
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Hail Mary's, but he decided to skip them and head home. It was strange, but
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Terrence wasn't usually a religious person; it was only when he got the strong
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urges to confess to a priest that he ever went to church. He had a slight
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headache, just like all the other times he'd gone to confession.
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When he got home, he felt a creative urge coming on, so he jacked into his
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computer deck. Moments after the cable clicked into his arm he called for the
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visuals to fade into the workstation.
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His mental hands flipped through the files of stored images. Most of the
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younger deck users skip the metaphors altogether and operate with only a bare
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framework. Having grown up without the interface, it was necessary to make his
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computer space less abstract.
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Finally finding a holo that he wanted to work with, he opened it onto his
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workspace. The hologram was an old representation of his head from when he was
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young. It was twenty years in the past, when the tech was new. At the time he
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had two jacks on the back of his neck. One was for the data link, the other
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was for the dedicated body-RAM. In the early days, before interface lobes were
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genetically engineered, it was necessary to have hardware implants. His face
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stared at him from the workspace. His face was thin and well defined, they
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looked as if they were carved from ivory. It gave him a vaguely unnatural
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look. Further compounding the strange look were his transparent eye implants,
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and his long multi-hued hair. He thought back with a mixture of pride and
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embarrassment about his old modified hair. It was made from a soft crystalline
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structure which featured an ability to change attributes with electrical
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charges. His hardware controlled the fibers, varying the stiffness and color
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randomly, giving the illusion of phosphorescent snakes wriggling around on his
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head.
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The nostalgia passed quickly as he started to work with the image. He
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zoomed in on the left eye and began to manipulate the image. Inside the pupil,
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he created a hollow sphere, into which he zoomed in again. Next he created
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several constellations of tiny luminescent spheres. In the center of the big
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sphere, he created a 'morphing object that he programmed to constantly mutate
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into a series of objects, beginning with a red pyramid, ending with a golden
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apple with the letter "K" inscribed upon the side.
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What he didn't remember, or even notice slipping into the holo, were the
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subliminal messages he unconsciously planted all over the image. "If you
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cannot see the FNORD it can't eat you." "The power of the five will be
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obeyed." "I am the walrus." "There are 23 seats of power to love." "Pain
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will come to those who do not obey." "Love is a lie, ILLUMINATION is the
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truth." "Do what thou wilt shall be the whole of the law. Law tempered with
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FNORD." Even if he would have known of the subliminals, he wouldn't have
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understood them anyway.
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When each of the holograms that were completed in the next three weeks
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were prepared, they were transmitted to various media-zines, where millions of
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subscribers downloaded them into the decks and spent hours and hours exploring
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the miniature nuances of each holo. Somewhere in a five sided building, the 5
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and the minor 23 were pleased.
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FNORD unit 17 Weishaupt Class' education agenda was implemented.
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The urge to confess filled Terrance again, and he felt like he was going
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to explode unless he got to the church on time. He took the metro to his
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regular church, and walked into his regular confessional.
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"Forgive me father for I have sinned."
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_______ __________________________________________________________________
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/ _ _ \|Demon Roach Undrgrnd.806/794-4362|Kingdom of Shit.....806/794-1842|
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((___)) |Cool Beans!..........510/THE-COOL|Polka AE {PW:KILL}..806/794-4362|
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[ x x ] |Ripco................312/528-5020|Moody Loners w/Guns.415/221-8608|
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\ / |The Works............617/861-8976|Finitopia...........916/673-8412|
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(' ') |Lunatic Labs.........213/655-0691|ftp - ftp.eff.org in pub/cud/cdc|
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(U) |==================================================================|
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.ooM |Copr. 1993 cDc communications by Obscure Images 01/01/93-#207|
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\_______/|All Rights Drooled Away. SIX GLORIOUS YEARS of cDc|
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