+8 more
posted on Jul, 22 2011 @ 03:17 AM
It was a dark and stormy night.
How they found me, I will never know. A daisy-chain of a dozen proxies and a comfortable yet survivalist-oriented home tucked away in one of the most
remote corners of Eurasia…and yet there was no hiding from truth. I guess ATS is good like that.
I heard a loud knock at the door and looked outside to see Benjamin Button standing at my door. No, waitaminute…it was the ShamWow guy. Or was it
some gangster in a 1930s getup? Every time I looked at my unexpected guest, he had a different face. Fortunately, after several years of ATSs, a
shape-shifter was nothing new, or even all that interesting. Yawn. I was about to turn away from my unexpected guest, eager to return to my
interrupted 4-hour session of compulsively refreshing the last page of the “post a funny pic, I’m bored” thread.
“Silent Thunder! Do not turn your back on your Overlord! Would you reject this high honor I have traveled so far to bestow?” I peered curiously at
my unexpected guest. He was holding out something vaguely shiny and glowing, shaped like a little square outline of a golden box with “Way Above Top
Secret” written at the top.
“C0o-ool! But what am I supposed to do with that? Wear it around my neck?”
My guest shook his head sorrowfully. Clearly it was not the response he had hoped for, and I suddenly felt bad for my rudeness. “OK, OK, you have my
attention. We don’t get many visitors out here, you know. Its part of the reason I’m online 18 hours a day. Would you like some Cognac? Waffles?
Perhaps an old-school Burmese cheroot? Not too many of those make it out of Rangoon these days, let me tell you.” But my guest was on a mission, and
mere creature comforts (no matter how delightful) could not deter him.
“Silent Thunder, you have been selected to be a High Poster.”
I blinked. “Come again? I didn’t know you could be selected for that. I thought it was kind of a personal lifestyle choice that every poster makes
for himself.”
“THERE WILL BE NO INSINUATIONS SKIRTING THE LINES OF THE T&C!” he suddenly roared. I flinched back, startled. The awesome wrath was a thing to
behold, and humbled and chastened, I dropped my insouciant tone. “OK, OK,” I mumbled. “’I’m sorry.” And I felt it, too. Surely my Overlord
deserved better. I composed myself in my best talking-to-bankers-and-Junta-members fashion: Legs crossed above the knee, hands lightly steepled, eyes
wide. I was ready to listen.
“Silent, to be a High Poster is an honor, but it is also a responsibility. And right now there is no time to lose! You have been chosen as one of
fifty High Posters who will be tasked with preserving all life and existence as we know it. And the stakes are high, Silent! Wars, famines, floods,
nuclear meltdowns! Financial collapses! Script kiddies and budget deadlocks! Brown dwarves, solar flares, and little gray men! HAARP and FEMA boxcars!
Religious fanaticism, social decay, the numbing of society…we must solve it all, Silent. And there is no time. Are you ready for the awesome task
that lies ahead?”
I was. The man was a good speaker. And the shape-shifting thing was kinda cool, I never realized that was real. Always thought that was one of the
dumber conspiracies. Just goes to show you.
Pleased by my acceptance, my Overlord began to outline the plan, and my place in it. In great detail. Supply lines and logistics were discussed,
hidden bases and offshore accounts, strange new technologies and marvelous weapons. It was going to be – if you will pardon the crude neologism –
truly epic.
Yet after 20 minutes, I started to fidget a little. Something was wrong, I couldn’t put my finger on it. I felt weird. Then I began to shake
a little. Twitching. At first this did not interrupt the visionary orator, but soon even he could no longer ignore. My eyes started to roll in their
sockets a little, and a greasy sheen of thick sweat broke out on my forehead.
My guest broke off in concern and stared at me. By now I must have looked quite bad…itching, twitching, shirt plastered to my skin with damp sweat,
face flushed...and the shaking. I couldn’t stop the shaking. What on earth was happening to me? “Are you OK?” my guest asked, now slightly
alarmed. I was getting alarmed too. My heartbeat was starting to resemble the rhythm line of La Cucaracha.. And a terrible need, like an
awful, unslakable thirst. I needed something, and I needed it badly. But what?
Even though my mind didn’t realize what I needed, my body knew well enough. It was a physical, visceral, cellular-level craving, and my body would
act while my mind stood there stupidly. I felt myself get up, still shaking, and cross the room…towards my den. Where my computer was still
humming.
With a roar, I lunged across the room and flopped, shaking, into my computer chair. It had been 20 minutes. 20 minutes away from ATS. The longest time
since ’08! How could I have held out? But already the pain and withdrawal were fading. The familiar dark screen floated mellowly before my eyes: A T
S. Ah, home sweet home. Source of all that was good and right! How could I have let myself stay away so long?
After almost an hour plugged back in, I looked up, startled. My pain and discomfort were by now distant memories, but I dimly remembered that I had
a…guest. A real guest, no less! In the flesh! Cursing, I jumped up and ran back into the other room.
My guest was gone, of course. I had missed by chance. Later I learned he’d been spotted walking down the long dirt road that was the closest
reminder of wider civilization to Chez Thunder. He’d been shaking his head, muttering. I had let my leader down.
The deep shame would haunt me…for anther five minutes. Then I forgot all about it. Finally a new cat image in the funny pic thread! Maybe I am no
world-saver, I thought to myself…but at least I never miss a single image from the funny pic thread. The logic was questionable, but sitting in
front of my comfy, familiar computer screen, it made perfect sense.