|

The hack that wasn’t

I thought I got hacked yesterday. This line of text appeared — with no apparent cause — in a text file that was open but out of sight:

Cracked and cul De SAC and all will have some fun and this one th at a picnic

After finding no clues in any obvious way, I slept on it; modem and router unplugged, of course. Lying under my quilt this morning for some post-pee horizontal thinking, I went over my memories of events in the time between opening the text and being asked if I wanted to save it when I started to close it. The video player behaving oddly while the speech recognition software was still running…. I got up and performed some experiments. Uh-huh. The only hacker was in the movie.

I couldn’t reproduce the exact results, too many environmental variables, but oh teh lulz. That such a near classic neener line could result from a random series of coincidences. Must soak head more often.

Similar Posts

  • The Tree of Story

    Some writers are aghast at the notion of going back for revisions before a work is finished. Fine for them, but I don’t write in a straight line. I can’t. Writing, for me, is three-dimensional, fractal. There is a lot more to a tree than foliage. Growth takes place everywhere. Roots dig deeper and deeper…

  • |

    Good? Morning

    I h8 waking up too early to be up and too late to get back to sleep. However, having a big bowl of homemade stew to re-induce sleepiness is a nice way to unstart the day. NOM NOM NOM I’ll show off a cute drum later.

  • Kind of how I feel sometimes

    A short excerpt from Chapter 14 of A Drum Is Empty: The long tassel of his hair, tied securely by Jesumi, flopped against his shoulders when he turned his head to gawk at his fine companions. It all seemed like a dream. Who was this newborn stranger inside his skin? Certainly not the bad-luck boy…

  • Dance of Life (poem)

              Winging down in around the zoosphere we find a single being, intertwined invisibly in fleeting forms shadow-dancing with itself in separate mind seeking sometimes fearfully to know what lies behind its seeing. This is probably around 30 years old. I ran accross it for the umpteenth time while looking for…

  • |

    Treading water

    Not enough good sleep to make a meaningful post. I will some time soon, I hope. Both of the above. This postcard turned up in a bad place when I reshuffled a shipload of junk so I could get up the stairs (the upstairs door was ajar, a criminal offense when the temperature outside hovers…