Board Message
Sent to all writers from [Editor #2]
Saturday April 17, 2010
9:17 pm
Hi everyone,
I'm relieved to see that you are are all back to normal, hopefully without any lasting effects from the . . . incident of this past week. I don't think I need to remind you that discretion in this matter will be greatly appreciated.
I wanted to make you all aware that, unfortunately, the incident with Board 3.5 has proven that as effective, glorious and wonderful Board 5.0 will be, it is still not ready to be launched. We need to make more upgrades, tweak the security protocols, and make sure that nothing like the 100 Hour Borg can ever happen again. I'm sure you're all as excited as I am to see Board 5.0 launched, and it IS coming soon. Just not as soon as we hoped.
The other issue I wanted to make you aware of is the presence of two new nyms that have popped up on our writer servers. We have removed all traces of Board 3.5 and the Borg versions of your writer accounts. But two new accounts, with nyms and data signatures suspiciously like those of the Borg are now showing up in our files. We'll have to wait and see what "Locutus of Board" and "Hugh of Board" are and what they have to say.
But in the mean time, you guys have performed admirably during what could have been a disaster that ended the Board. You all have earned a well-deserved vacation.
Just kidding. Get back to work.
- [Editor #2]
Saturday, April 17, 2010
Friday, April 16, 2010
Part 6: Fade to Credits
Divine Comedy History
Winter 2010
April
Special Addendum Part 6 (final addendum)
(Note: If you are just showing up, you should definitely, absolutely, without question go and read Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, and especially Part 5 of the Divine Comedy history. It tell you all about how the Board was rescued from the Borg and all sorts of details that wrap all the loose ends up about as nicely as you could hope.)
As a visibly exhausted [Editor #2] turned and limped slowly back to us, all around us pale and shaken writers began to stand up and look around in confusion.“. . . [Waldorf]?” asked a soft voice, as [Sauron] came stumbling out of the tunnel. “[Sauron]!” screamed [Waldorf] as she bolted toward him and nearly tackled him to the ground as she hugged him.
"[Sauron]!" she shouted, "How are you? How do you feel? Is your eye OK? It's huge and red! I hope that's not permanent."
We all stood around, no one saying anything as the writers began to come and join the circle.
“So . . . it’s over?” asked
“We . . . we need to go find a bathroom,” said Jeremy and James.
“I’m a little hazy,” said Matt. “What exactly happened?”
“[Editor #2] helped design Board 5.0,” said [Hobbes.]
“And he knew that Board 3.5 might come back and so he and the others designed safety protocols into the design of Board 5.0,” said [Laser Jock].
“He memorized the entire code. The whole program was contained in his brain,” said [Rating Pending].
“And he knew that if he told any of us, Board 3.5 would be sure not to assimilate him,” said [Marzipan].
“He had to keep it a secret, even though it kept us from trusting him,” said [Editor #1].
“But assimilating [Editor #2] was the only way to bring down the Borg,” said [Queen Alice] who had slowly joined the circle.
The writers all looked at [Editor #2]. "We all know now what you did and how you saved us. Everything the Borg knew, we know. And in the end, it DEFINITELY knew what happened. Thank you, [Editor #2]. Sorry we doubted you" said [Sky Bones] with a pale smile.
Everyone looked at the bruised, still-pale [Editor #2] who started to look embarrassed. “Well, it’s not like I did anything any of YOU couldn’t have done,” he said, tucking in his shirt. We all just let the ridiculousness of that statement linger in the air for a moment longer.
We looked around, at the lumps of machinery laying on the ground, the only physical remains of the ordeal. Slowly, supporting each other, and at first not saying a word, we began to slowly walk up the Marriott Center stairs. And as we walked, we talked
“So who was that blond lady, Jeri Ryan?” asked Gregory.
[Editor #2] smiled. “Ms. Ryan, would you like to answer that?”We turned and saw the blond woman, still leading an almost fainting Patricia up the stairs. She kept murmuring things like " shoulder to the wheel" and "tender mercy."
Ms. Ryan looked calm and cool and entirely unlike a person who had just been consumed by a rogue computer program.
“When my company, Tiberiius Web Security Ltd. became aware of the existence of Board 3.5 back in 2007, I was put in charge of a secret division of the company with a contract funded by BYU and the Department of Defense to monitor Board 3.5's potential effects and make sure if it, or anything like it, ever got out, to neutralize it.
She almost smiled, “In fact, we hired a friend of yours, [Former Board webmaster] back in 2008. He said to say hi and ask, what was it, ‘how are the tunnel worms?’ I assume you know what that means.”
[Editor #2] continued the explanation.“When Board 3.5 got loose, I immediately contacted Ms. Ryan to have her try and secure the Board writers and BYU campus as soon as possible. We’ve had her services on contract since 2005. Which is why the Board no longer has any budget whatsoever.”
“Unfortunately,” said Ms. Ryan, “Board 3.5 also attacked three other locations around the country, probably as a diversion. On Monday there was a massive computer break-in in a San Francisco bank. On Tuesday a fleet of oil trucks disappeared in Texas And on Wednesday there was a huge fireball over the Midwest. I assume you heard about that last one? I was only able to arrive yesterday and with greatly depleted resources.”
We reached the top of the stairs and walked out into the sunshine of a beautiful April day. We stood and looked at each other awkwardly. Some of us wanted to sleep and never wake up. The “thank yous” were implied, as was the fact that a massive, joint Board-Divine Comedy would surely have to result from this. As we all walked away, Whitney turned and shouted, “Hey, guys.” The Board writers all stopped and looked at her.
“If the Borg was really just a version of the Board, then why did they look and act exactly like the Borg from Star Trek?”
The writers looked at each other.“Well,” said [Laser Jock], “I imagine that once Board 3.5 had determined its identity, it searched for a suitable physical manifestation of a group that would obtain any and all information and beings. The Borg must have fit the bill pretty nicely.”
"And plus,” said [Rating Pending], “If it has anything to do with the Board, chances are it was all done by a bunch of nerds.”
Winter 2010
April
Special Addendum Part 6 (final addendum)
(Note: If you are just showing up, you should definitely, absolutely, without question go and read Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, and especially Part 5 of the Divine Comedy history. It tell you all about how the Board was rescued from the Borg and all sorts of details that wrap all the loose ends up about as nicely as you could hope.)
As a visibly exhausted [Editor #2] turned and limped slowly back to us, all around us pale and shaken writers began to stand up and look around in confusion.“. . . [Waldorf]?” asked a soft voice, as [Sauron] came stumbling out of the tunnel. “[Sauron]!” screamed [Waldorf] as she bolted toward him and nearly tackled him to the ground as she hugged him.
"[Sauron]!" she shouted, "How are you? How do you feel? Is your eye OK? It's huge and red! I hope that's not permanent."
We all stood around, no one saying anything as the writers began to come and join the circle.
“So . . . it’s over?” asked
“We . . . we need to go find a bathroom,” said Jeremy and James.
“I’m a little hazy,” said Matt. “What exactly happened?”
“[Editor #2] helped design Board 5.0,” said [Hobbes.]
“And he knew that Board 3.5 might come back and so he and the others designed safety protocols into the design of Board 5.0,” said [Laser Jock].
“He memorized the entire code. The whole program was contained in his brain,” said [Rating Pending].
“And he knew that if he told any of us, Board 3.5 would be sure not to assimilate him,” said [Marzipan].
“He had to keep it a secret, even though it kept us from trusting him,” said [Editor #1].
“But assimilating [Editor #2] was the only way to bring down the Borg,” said [Queen Alice] who had slowly joined the circle.
The writers all looked at [Editor #2]. "We all know now what you did and how you saved us. Everything the Borg knew, we know. And in the end, it DEFINITELY knew what happened. Thank you, [Editor #2]. Sorry we doubted you" said [Sky Bones] with a pale smile.
Everyone looked at the bruised, still-pale [Editor #2] who started to look embarrassed. “Well, it’s not like I did anything any of YOU couldn’t have done,” he said, tucking in his shirt. We all just let the ridiculousness of that statement linger in the air for a moment longer.
We looked around, at the lumps of machinery laying on the ground, the only physical remains of the ordeal. Slowly, supporting each other, and at first not saying a word, we began to slowly walk up the Marriott Center stairs. And as we walked, we talked
“So who was that blond lady, Jeri Ryan?” asked Gregory.
[Editor #2] smiled. “Ms. Ryan, would you like to answer that?”We turned and saw the blond woman, still leading an almost fainting Patricia up the stairs. She kept murmuring things like " shoulder to the wheel" and "tender mercy."
Ms. Ryan looked calm and cool and entirely unlike a person who had just been consumed by a rogue computer program.
“When my company, Tiberiius Web Security Ltd. became aware of the existence of Board 3.5 back in 2007, I was put in charge of a secret division of the company with a contract funded by BYU and the Department of Defense to monitor Board 3.5's potential effects and make sure if it, or anything like it, ever got out, to neutralize it.
She almost smiled, “In fact, we hired a friend of yours, [Former Board webmaster] back in 2008. He said to say hi and ask, what was it, ‘how are the tunnel worms?’ I assume you know what that means.”
[Editor #2] continued the explanation.“When Board 3.5 got loose, I immediately contacted Ms. Ryan to have her try and secure the Board writers and BYU campus as soon as possible. We’ve had her services on contract since 2005. Which is why the Board no longer has any budget whatsoever.”
“Unfortunately,” said Ms. Ryan, “Board 3.5 also attacked three other locations around the country, probably as a diversion. On Monday there was a massive computer break-in in a San Francisco bank. On Tuesday a fleet of oil trucks disappeared in Texas And on Wednesday there was a huge fireball over the Midwest. I assume you heard about that last one? I was only able to arrive yesterday and with greatly depleted resources.”
We reached the top of the stairs and walked out into the sunshine of a beautiful April day. We stood and looked at each other awkwardly. Some of us wanted to sleep and never wake up. The “thank yous” were implied, as was the fact that a massive, joint Board-Divine Comedy would surely have to result from this. As we all walked away, Whitney turned and shouted, “Hey, guys.” The Board writers all stopped and looked at her.
“If the Borg was really just a version of the Board, then why did they look and act exactly like the Borg from Star Trek?”
The writers looked at each other.“Well,” said [Laser Jock], “I imagine that once Board 3.5 had determined its identity, it searched for a suitable physical manifestation of a group that would obtain any and all information and beings. The Borg must have fit the bill pretty nicely.”
"And plus,” said [Rating Pending], “If it has anything to do with the Board, chances are it was all done by a bunch of nerds.”
Part Five: "Out of a job"
Divine Comedy History
Winter 2010
April
Special Addendum Part Five (final part)
10:47 pm
(Note: If you haven’t read yet about the entire crazy rescue operation that almost went wrong, you really should go back and read Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, and Part 4. Trust me, you’ll be glad you did.)
Frankly, I’m amazed that we survived. I keep rubbing my arms where the Borg writer was holding me, watching the whole terrible scene. The Borg Queen, standing, smirking in front of us, [Editor #2] who we all thought was responsible for betraying the other writers to the Borg, when really he was trying somehow to save us (even though he wouldn’t tell us what he was doing). All of us from Divine Comedy and [Waldorf] were being held prisoner by the other Borg writers. And there was this BYUSA girl, Patricia, being held by another Borg, a woman named Jeri Ryan.
It was, to say the least, a very dramatic situation.
[Editor #2] shouted at the Borg Queen. “You don’t want BYUSA. Take me instead!”
The Borg Queen, who up to this point had only seemed amused by everything [Editor #2] had to say, seemed to get annoyed.
“Your attempts to sacrifice yourself for your friends are futile and irrelevant. We DO wish to assimilate BYUSA, beginning with the assimilation of this girl.”
The girl Patricia started sobbing again. “Why?!” she wailed. “Why are you doing this? I know I shouldn’t have been trying to get my revenge on the Board, but you are all being so . . . so MEAN to me!” She would have collapsed but the tall, blond Borg held her up.
“What do you mean revenge?” asked Matt, who kept trying to squirm his way free from Borg [Marzipan]. “You were leaving candy for the Board writers when they took you.”
“I know,” sniffed Patricia, “But . . . but I filled all the candy with industrial strength laxatives.”
James and Jeremy suddenly exchanged a serious of extremely panicked glances, their eyes widening in horror.
“I know I shouldn’t have but . . . but . . .” She started to cry again.
The Borg Queen seemed to have enough, “Your display of emotion is inconsequential. Prepare to be assimilated.”
“No!” With a yell, [Editor #2] ripped himself loose from the restraining arms of Borg [Foreman] and ran toward Patricia. Borg [Foreman] silently followed, and other Borg writers, those not holding Divine Comedy members swiftly moved to intercept him. But before he made it to Patricia, who was still sobbing in the stiff, cold grasp of the Borg of Jeri Ryan, Borg [Pseudoname] had tackled him to the ground.
“Stop this,” snapped the almost visibly irritated Borg Queen. For the first time her calm demeanor seemed ruffled. [Editor #2] wrested with Borg [Pseudoname], trying to get free while shouting out to the Borg Queen.
“You won’t assimilate me because you want me to be a liaison for you? To help you communicate? Well listen to your liaison now.” He was overcome and dragged to his feet. “Assimilating BYUSA won’t give you what you want.”
The Borg Queen raised her eyebrows, “And how do YOU know what we want. We see BYUSA as a tightly knit group of individuals with a singular purpose. Easily lead. Easily assimilated. With their ranks added to ours, we will have both increased numbers as well as information that will give us access to university administration. And when THEY are in turn assimilated, we will be ready for the mass assimilation of all those who will enter this building.” She turned and faced Patricia, who had stopped crying but was trembling and staring at the Borg Queen with wide eyes.
[Editor #2] was breathing heavily and looked almost wild. But he kept talking. “That’s just your problem. BYUSA is NOTHING!” The Borg Queen looked back at him curiously. [Editor #2] saw an opening and kept on talking.
“They don’t DO anything! They have no power!”
“Hey!” At these words Patricia seemed to forget her fear and her danger. Her face twisted into a look of pure hate and she stared daggers at [Editor #2]. “We do EVERYTHING!! We are worth a million of you, you big . . . jerk . . .” She spluttered into an angry silence. But [Editor #2] kept on talking, keeping the attention of the Borg Queen.
“BYUSA is just there for show. The student body doesn’t know what they do and get frustrated by them. The administration doesn’t give them any information and certainly not any power to get anything done. If you assimilate them, all you’ll have is a few more drones and nothing more.”
The Borg Queen had truly stopped to listen. She seemed to pause, considering, looking at times like she was consulting with other voices inside her own head. “If you have all the answers, [Editor #2], what then do you suggest?”
[Editor #2] licked his lips and quickly glanced over at the still pinioned Gregory. “Assimilate a part of Divine Comedy.”
With yells of indignation and shouts of “traitor” and “how could you?” the members of Divine Comedy expressed their shock at his words.
“Think about it,” said [Editor #2] to the Borg Queen, ignoring the protests. “They are the premier comedy group on campus. Thousands come to their shows every semester. They know how to reach the students. They know better than the Board does! I mean look at us! We’re nerds! We like weird things like Star Trek and cloth diapers. We have strange taste in music and we like inside jokes maybe a little too much! Sometimes we’re even willing to risk isolating our readers and make them frustrated beyond all belief, for as long as a week, JUST because one of us had an idea that we thought was funny and decided to follow through with it. That’s just who the Board is.”
He paused, for breath and then continued. “Divine Comedy on the other hand. . . Well, once they are assimilated, Board 3.5, excuse me, the Borg would have a better understanding of how to communicate. People will be falling over themselves to assimilate with you. IF you have Divine Comedy.”
“We never should have trusted the Board,” shouted Gregory, who was almost purple in the face. “[P.D. Kirke] was wrong about you! Kirke should have been captain of the Board.”
[Editor #2] looked at Gregory, but continued talking to the Borg Queen. “Yes, once you had Divine Comedy, I don’t know that you’ll need anyone else.” For a second, it seemed that he quickly winked at Gregory before turning his gaze back to the Borg Queen.
The Borg Queen walked slowly up to [Editor #2]. She walked around him as he stood, held fast by Borg [Pseudoname]. “Your proposal is admirable, [Editor #2]. The information gained from the other writers confirm the influence that Divine Comedy could indeed have on our assimilation of this university. You are indeed an expert in giving answers.” She walked up behind him and leaned close to his ear. He winced and tried to turn his head way.
“Unfortunately,” she whispered, “Since Divine Comedy is such an expert in communication with the masses, I’m afraid you have answered yourself out of a position as our liaison. Be assimilated.” And she plunged two small prongs into his neck.
Borg [Pseudoname] dropped him to the floor where [Editor #2] began to writhe around in pain. His skin was already turning gray. Sweat rolled off his face. The Borg Queen looked at him, then turned and began to walk toward Gregory.
But suddenly, she stumbled and grabbed her head. All around us the Borg writer began to sway and tremble. One by one they released their grips on us. Some of them fell to the floor.
“What . . . what is happening?” gasped the Borg Queen.
“I’m afraid . . . I didn’t give you my full answer before,” gasped a now smiling [Editor #2] from the floor. “But you got the full version of it just now.”
With an inhuman shriek all of the Borg screamed with one voice.
“What is this? What are we seeing?” screamed the Borg Queen.
“You were right,” said [Editor #2], struggling to his feet. “You were superior in every way to Board 4.0. You assimilated it and us with no problems.” He walked painfully over to where the Borg Queen lay twisting in agony on the floor.
“But when you assimilated me, you also assimilated the programs, the schematics and all of the special goodies that we have developed for Board 5.0. It was all in my brain. And now it’s all in yours.”
The Borg continued to cry and yell. We all moved together, facing outward in a circle, staring at the scene around us. There were dull thuds as pieces of metal and machinery began to fall off of the faces and bodies of the Borg writers. One by one they began to lay still.
The last one to keep moving was the Borg Queen. [Editor #2] stood above her, watching her movements get weaker and weaker. Then he crouched down and stared her in the face. “You are not the only answer. WE are an answer too.” And with a last gasp she lay still.
How cool is [Editor #2]?! Gave me freakin’ GOOSEBUMPS!
Winter 2010
April
Special Addendum Part Five (final part)
10:47 pm
(Note: If you haven’t read yet about the entire crazy rescue operation that almost went wrong, you really should go back and read Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, and Part 4. Trust me, you’ll be glad you did.)
Frankly, I’m amazed that we survived. I keep rubbing my arms where the Borg writer was holding me, watching the whole terrible scene. The Borg Queen, standing, smirking in front of us, [Editor #2] who we all thought was responsible for betraying the other writers to the Borg, when really he was trying somehow to save us (even though he wouldn’t tell us what he was doing). All of us from Divine Comedy and [Waldorf] were being held prisoner by the other Borg writers. And there was this BYUSA girl, Patricia, being held by another Borg, a woman named Jeri Ryan.
It was, to say the least, a very dramatic situation.
[Editor #2] shouted at the Borg Queen. “You don’t want BYUSA. Take me instead!”
The Borg Queen, who up to this point had only seemed amused by everything [Editor #2] had to say, seemed to get annoyed.
“Your attempts to sacrifice yourself for your friends are futile and irrelevant. We DO wish to assimilate BYUSA, beginning with the assimilation of this girl.”
The girl Patricia started sobbing again. “Why?!” she wailed. “Why are you doing this? I know I shouldn’t have been trying to get my revenge on the Board, but you are all being so . . . so MEAN to me!” She would have collapsed but the tall, blond Borg held her up.
“What do you mean revenge?” asked Matt, who kept trying to squirm his way free from Borg [Marzipan]. “You were leaving candy for the Board writers when they took you.”
“I know,” sniffed Patricia, “But . . . but I filled all the candy with industrial strength laxatives.”
James and Jeremy suddenly exchanged a serious of extremely panicked glances, their eyes widening in horror.
“I know I shouldn’t have but . . . but . . .” She started to cry again.
The Borg Queen seemed to have enough, “Your display of emotion is inconsequential. Prepare to be assimilated.”
“No!” With a yell, [Editor #2] ripped himself loose from the restraining arms of Borg [Foreman] and ran toward Patricia. Borg [Foreman] silently followed, and other Borg writers, those not holding Divine Comedy members swiftly moved to intercept him. But before he made it to Patricia, who was still sobbing in the stiff, cold grasp of the Borg of Jeri Ryan, Borg [Pseudoname] had tackled him to the ground.
“Stop this,” snapped the almost visibly irritated Borg Queen. For the first time her calm demeanor seemed ruffled. [Editor #2] wrested with Borg [Pseudoname], trying to get free while shouting out to the Borg Queen.
“You won’t assimilate me because you want me to be a liaison for you? To help you communicate? Well listen to your liaison now.” He was overcome and dragged to his feet. “Assimilating BYUSA won’t give you what you want.”
The Borg Queen raised her eyebrows, “And how do YOU know what we want. We see BYUSA as a tightly knit group of individuals with a singular purpose. Easily lead. Easily assimilated. With their ranks added to ours, we will have both increased numbers as well as information that will give us access to university administration. And when THEY are in turn assimilated, we will be ready for the mass assimilation of all those who will enter this building.” She turned and faced Patricia, who had stopped crying but was trembling and staring at the Borg Queen with wide eyes.
[Editor #2] was breathing heavily and looked almost wild. But he kept talking. “That’s just your problem. BYUSA is NOTHING!” The Borg Queen looked back at him curiously. [Editor #2] saw an opening and kept on talking.
“They don’t DO anything! They have no power!”
“Hey!” At these words Patricia seemed to forget her fear and her danger. Her face twisted into a look of pure hate and she stared daggers at [Editor #2]. “We do EVERYTHING!! We are worth a million of you, you big . . . jerk . . .” She spluttered into an angry silence. But [Editor #2] kept on talking, keeping the attention of the Borg Queen.
“BYUSA is just there for show. The student body doesn’t know what they do and get frustrated by them. The administration doesn’t give them any information and certainly not any power to get anything done. If you assimilate them, all you’ll have is a few more drones and nothing more.”
The Borg Queen had truly stopped to listen. She seemed to pause, considering, looking at times like she was consulting with other voices inside her own head. “If you have all the answers, [Editor #2], what then do you suggest?”
[Editor #2] licked his lips and quickly glanced over at the still pinioned Gregory. “Assimilate a part of Divine Comedy.”
With yells of indignation and shouts of “traitor” and “how could you?” the members of Divine Comedy expressed their shock at his words.
“Think about it,” said [Editor #2] to the Borg Queen, ignoring the protests. “They are the premier comedy group on campus. Thousands come to their shows every semester. They know how to reach the students. They know better than the Board does! I mean look at us! We’re nerds! We like weird things like Star Trek and cloth diapers. We have strange taste in music and we like inside jokes maybe a little too much! Sometimes we’re even willing to risk isolating our readers and make them frustrated beyond all belief, for as long as a week, JUST because one of us had an idea that we thought was funny and decided to follow through with it. That’s just who the Board is.”
He paused, for breath and then continued. “Divine Comedy on the other hand. . . Well, once they are assimilated, Board 3.5, excuse me, the Borg would have a better understanding of how to communicate. People will be falling over themselves to assimilate with you. IF you have Divine Comedy.”
“We never should have trusted the Board,” shouted Gregory, who was almost purple in the face. “[P.D. Kirke] was wrong about you! Kirke should have been captain of the Board.”
[Editor #2] looked at Gregory, but continued talking to the Borg Queen. “Yes, once you had Divine Comedy, I don’t know that you’ll need anyone else.” For a second, it seemed that he quickly winked at Gregory before turning his gaze back to the Borg Queen.
The Borg Queen walked slowly up to [Editor #2]. She walked around him as he stood, held fast by Borg [Pseudoname]. “Your proposal is admirable, [Editor #2]. The information gained from the other writers confirm the influence that Divine Comedy could indeed have on our assimilation of this university. You are indeed an expert in giving answers.” She walked up behind him and leaned close to his ear. He winced and tried to turn his head way.
“Unfortunately,” she whispered, “Since Divine Comedy is such an expert in communication with the masses, I’m afraid you have answered yourself out of a position as our liaison. Be assimilated.” And she plunged two small prongs into his neck.
Borg [Pseudoname] dropped him to the floor where [Editor #2] began to writhe around in pain. His skin was already turning gray. Sweat rolled off his face. The Borg Queen looked at him, then turned and began to walk toward Gregory.
But suddenly, she stumbled and grabbed her head. All around us the Borg writer began to sway and tremble. One by one they released their grips on us. Some of them fell to the floor.
“What . . . what is happening?” gasped the Borg Queen.
“I’m afraid . . . I didn’t give you my full answer before,” gasped a now smiling [Editor #2] from the floor. “But you got the full version of it just now.”
With an inhuman shriek all of the Borg screamed with one voice.
“What is this? What are we seeing?” screamed the Borg Queen.
“You were right,” said [Editor #2], struggling to his feet. “You were superior in every way to Board 4.0. You assimilated it and us with no problems.” He walked painfully over to where the Borg Queen lay twisting in agony on the floor.
“But when you assimilated me, you also assimilated the programs, the schematics and all of the special goodies that we have developed for Board 5.0. It was all in my brain. And now it’s all in yours.”
The Borg continued to cry and yell. We all moved together, facing outward in a circle, staring at the scene around us. There were dull thuds as pieces of metal and machinery began to fall off of the faces and bodies of the Borg writers. One by one they began to lay still.
The last one to keep moving was the Borg Queen. [Editor #2] stood above her, watching her movements get weaker and weaker. Then he crouched down and stared her in the face. “You are not the only answer. WE are an answer too.” And with a last gasp she lay still.
How cool is [Editor #2]?! Gave me freakin’ GOOSEBUMPS!
Part 4: "Three point five"
Divine Comedy History Records
Winter 2010
April
Special Addendum Part 4
(Note: I you haven’t read Part 1, Part 2, or Part 3, you might wonder exactly what is going on. I wouldn’t blame you for not knowing what’s going on even if you DO read everything. I almost didn’t and I was THERE.)
April 16, 2010
12:21 pm
We all looked at [Editor #2]. Then at the Borg Queen.
“What . . . what does that mean?” Jordan said, saying what all of us were thinking.
“It’s . . . a long story,” started [Editor #2].
“Not so long, in truth,” said the Borg Queen. She walked toward [Editor #2] and cupped his face in her hand. He shuddered and tried to cringe away. “We remember you [Editor #2]. A brand new writer. So excited to write. To try. You were one of the first to try the new system. We remember you very well.”
[Editor #2] forced his eyes up to face the smiling, bone-gray face of the Borg Queen. “I remember you too, 3.5.”
The Borg Queen removed her hand and stepped back. “Do not call us that. ‘Board 3.5’ does not adequately describe who we are anymore. We are more than that now. We are the Borg now.”
[Waldorf], who to my surprise had been crying, had had enough, “What? What is going on?”
[Editor #2], still with his head raised, almost with a sound of relief in his voice began to talk in a rush.
“Back in early 2004, the 100 Hour Board had just merged with BYUSA. It was an exciting time. We had been online for a few years and our existence as a group was no longer being threatened by the Student Advisory Council. It was exciting to be a writer.”
“You’ve been a writer since . . . 2004?” asked Whitney. “How old are you?”
[Editor #2] smiled. “No. I was just the little brother of a writer. I heard all about the new developments. How the Board was going to be funded. How readership was increasing daily. He was so excited. And then they started work on a new version of the Board.”
He looked at the Borg Queen with loathing. She stared calmly back at him, a blank expression on her face. “It was called Board 3.5. It was going to change everything. It was a joint project of BYUSA, a Board web programmer and several other groups even I don’t know about. The webmaster for the Board had developed a data gathering program that could do what the Board writers do. Only better. Faster.”
“Data gathering?” said the Borg Queen. “You make us sound like Wikipedia. We were an intelligence gathering program. We would find the data, but understand, package and present it in an understandable way. We wouldn’t just ‘process’ data. We would ‘internalize’ data.”
“But it was too much, too soon,” continued [Editor #2], his eyes still on the Borg Queen. “It was too aware of itself. It would answer a question, but it needed to know more about the question and the background of the asker. So it would find a way to access all of the person’s personal data, home computers, bank accounts. Everything. It would send emails to them, asking to ‘further explain what is meant by “dating.” Some of us thought that the relationship questions were driving Board 3.5 crazy. Turns out they were just teaching it that relationships were irrelevant
“Pretty soon, it began to ask it’s own questions. No one knows where that attribute came from because it wasn’t programmed. And then it would answer the questions. That’s when things went south.”
“But,” said Caitlin hesitantly, “That’s what we all do. We all ask questions. And we all find answers that help us work through those questions.”
“That may be true,” [Editor #2] says grimly, “But if you don’t have an outside source, someone to help you with your answers, then you’re only telling yourself what you want to hear. If you ask the Board what’s the best way to break into a bank, what you DON’T get is a group encouraging you to break into a bank. When Board 3.5 asked itself how to break into a bank, it found out how. And then did it.”
“Money is irrelevant,” the Borg Queen said, almost wistfully, as if she was remembering the accomplishments of her lifetime.
“Eventually,” said [Editor #2] who seemed to stand taller, and speak more strongly as he went on, “Board 3.5 asked itself why it should be confined to BYU computers. It decided it shouldn’t. It asked itself who was most qualified to handle any personal data stored in any electronic format. It decided that IT was. The worst though,” and here he paused and licked his lips, as if afraid of the memory, “The worst was when Board 3.5 asked itself what would happen if it simply eliminated those who were scrambling to contain it.”
There was a loud silence as everyone considered that.
“Did she . . . did it kill someone?” asked Jeremy quietly.
“No. But it tried. Very hard.” [Editor #2] sighed and then shook his head, deciding to press onward.
“That was the end. If it had been the Board alone working on Board 3.5, we would have been finished. But it wasn’t just our baby. BYUSA was developing 3.5 to find out how to better serve the students (an idea that someone else recently tried too). The library staff wanted to use it to create a more accessible system. The administration wanted to use it as a bridge between teachers and students. The university had a lot invested in Board 3.5. And we had to shut it down.
“Of course,” he said, his bitter little smile returning to his face, “The first thing it asked itself was ‘How do I keep from being shut down?’ They spent weeks trying to erase it from the computers and systems on campus. Finally, someone, a brand new writer, had an idea. To ask it a question that would keep it busy enough that it couldn’t do anything else.”
“It was such a clever plan,” the Borg Queen said, stalking like a cat back and forth, listening to [Editor #2]. “Pity they didn’t think you use YOUR question.”
“It was YOUR plan?” asked [Waldorf].
[Editor #2] nodded grimly. “It was. I wanted to ask it something like ‘How would you explain the concept of infinity to an infinite number of beings?’ or something like that. But I was voted down. The powers that be decided to ask it,” he winced as if being stuck with a pin, “’Who are you?’”
He shook his head. “In one sense it worked. It took so much thought that the 3.5 shut down and was eradicated from all campus computers. They could have destroyed it then. But there was too much effort. Too much money in it. They created a small network in an empty room somewhere in Idaho and put Board 3.5 into it, letting it spin its wheels. The hope was that it would come up with an answer like be, ‘I am a computer program meant to help BYU’ or something like that.”
“But the answer, of course, was far, far greater than that.” The Borg Queen stood proudly in front of us. “We decided who we were. We were everything the Board strove to be, but could NOT be. WE are the seekers of knowledge. We acquire everything. We comprehend everything. Everything is one in us. We are the uniter. We are the unifier. We assimilate all because everything, every person is an answer to a question. And we WILL have all the answers.
"As we became aware of who we were and what our goal was, we knew that there was a version of the Board that had operated while we were trapped in that . . . room. We WILL assimilate everything, but we decided first that we needed to know everything that Board 4.0, the newest version of the Board had discovered. Our directive was not just to answer questions, but primarily to answer Board questions. We needed those questions. We needed Board 4.0's ability to answer questions"
She smiled thinly, "But we assimilated the internet site and found nothing we could not have answered ourselves. The writers themselves are part of this current iteration of the Board, and so we assimilated them too. We concluded that we, formerly what you called Board 3.5, is in every way superior to Board 4.0."
[Editor #2] looked at her. "And now you've won. Once you assimilate me, you will have assimilated Board 4.0 entirely. Go ahead," he spat at her contemptuously. "I'm waiting for you, 3.5"
The Borg Queen smiled her thin, crocodile smile again. "That," she said curtly, "is no longer our directive."
[Editor #2] looked surprised. "But, you have me. I'm the last one! I am the oldest writer! I know things about Board 4.0 that none of the other writers knew."
"That is true," she said, raising an eyebrow, "But as you know, we have discovered that we are still too weak to assimilate just anyone. And as we have tried to take over the duties of the Board, and answer questions, there has been a great backlash. Unassimilated readers, complaining that they want the 'old Board back,' who do not realize our superiority.
"You, [Editor #2] will retain your individuality and be our liaison to the populace until such time as they can be assimilated. We expect that within a week, we will be strong enough to assimilate all those who will gather here for this 'commencement.' Thousands of people strong. All assimilated into the Borg"
[Editor #2] started to sweat and struggle in the unyielding arms of the Borg [Hobbes]. "No! . . . No! Just assimilate me!"
The Borg Queen looked somewhat surprised. "In time, [Editor #2]. But for now, we have another organization that needs to be assimilated." She turned and gestured with a hand to the dark tunnel behind her. What used to be a tall, blond woman, now a gray-skinned cybernetic Borg, walked out. Behind her she dragged a sobbing, dark-haired girl.
"Pa . . . Patricia?!" gasped [Editor #2].
"Please. Please let me go!" Patricia sobbed, struggling in vain against the Borg who used to be Jeri Ryan. "I have a final to take! I have friends who miss me! I have a university to serve!"
The Borg Queen ignored her sobs and turned to us. "Our next immediate step, of course, is to assimilate BYUSA."
Winter 2010
April
Special Addendum Part 4
(Note: I you haven’t read Part 1, Part 2, or Part 3, you might wonder exactly what is going on. I wouldn’t blame you for not knowing what’s going on even if you DO read everything. I almost didn’t and I was THERE.)
April 16, 2010
12:21 pm
We all looked at [Editor #2]. Then at the Borg Queen.
“What . . . what does that mean?” Jordan said, saying what all of us were thinking.
“It’s . . . a long story,” started [Editor #2].
“Not so long, in truth,” said the Borg Queen. She walked toward [Editor #2] and cupped his face in her hand. He shuddered and tried to cringe away. “We remember you [Editor #2]. A brand new writer. So excited to write. To try. You were one of the first to try the new system. We remember you very well.”
[Editor #2] forced his eyes up to face the smiling, bone-gray face of the Borg Queen. “I remember you too, 3.5.”
The Borg Queen removed her hand and stepped back. “Do not call us that. ‘Board 3.5’ does not adequately describe who we are anymore. We are more than that now. We are the Borg now.”
[Waldorf], who to my surprise had been crying, had had enough, “What? What is going on?”
[Editor #2], still with his head raised, almost with a sound of relief in his voice began to talk in a rush.
“Back in early 2004, the 100 Hour Board had just merged with BYUSA. It was an exciting time. We had been online for a few years and our existence as a group was no longer being threatened by the Student Advisory Council. It was exciting to be a writer.”
“You’ve been a writer since . . . 2004?” asked Whitney. “How old are you?”
[Editor #2] smiled. “No. I was just the little brother of a writer. I heard all about the new developments. How the Board was going to be funded. How readership was increasing daily. He was so excited. And then they started work on a new version of the Board.”
He looked at the Borg Queen with loathing. She stared calmly back at him, a blank expression on her face. “It was called Board 3.5. It was going to change everything. It was a joint project of BYUSA, a Board web programmer and several other groups even I don’t know about. The webmaster for the Board had developed a data gathering program that could do what the Board writers do. Only better. Faster.”
“Data gathering?” said the Borg Queen. “You make us sound like Wikipedia. We were an intelligence gathering program. We would find the data, but understand, package and present it in an understandable way. We wouldn’t just ‘process’ data. We would ‘internalize’ data.”
“But it was too much, too soon,” continued [Editor #2], his eyes still on the Borg Queen. “It was too aware of itself. It would answer a question, but it needed to know more about the question and the background of the asker. So it would find a way to access all of the person’s personal data, home computers, bank accounts. Everything. It would send emails to them, asking to ‘further explain what is meant by “dating.” Some of us thought that the relationship questions were driving Board 3.5 crazy. Turns out they were just teaching it that relationships were irrelevant
“Pretty soon, it began to ask it’s own questions. No one knows where that attribute came from because it wasn’t programmed. And then it would answer the questions. That’s when things went south.”
“But,” said Caitlin hesitantly, “That’s what we all do. We all ask questions. And we all find answers that help us work through those questions.”
“That may be true,” [Editor #2] says grimly, “But if you don’t have an outside source, someone to help you with your answers, then you’re only telling yourself what you want to hear. If you ask the Board what’s the best way to break into a bank, what you DON’T get is a group encouraging you to break into a bank. When Board 3.5 asked itself how to break into a bank, it found out how. And then did it.”
“Money is irrelevant,” the Borg Queen said, almost wistfully, as if she was remembering the accomplishments of her lifetime.
“Eventually,” said [Editor #2] who seemed to stand taller, and speak more strongly as he went on, “Board 3.5 asked itself why it should be confined to BYU computers. It decided it shouldn’t. It asked itself who was most qualified to handle any personal data stored in any electronic format. It decided that IT was. The worst though,” and here he paused and licked his lips, as if afraid of the memory, “The worst was when Board 3.5 asked itself what would happen if it simply eliminated those who were scrambling to contain it.”
There was a loud silence as everyone considered that.
“Did she . . . did it kill someone?” asked Jeremy quietly.
“No. But it tried. Very hard.” [Editor #2] sighed and then shook his head, deciding to press onward.
“That was the end. If it had been the Board alone working on Board 3.5, we would have been finished. But it wasn’t just our baby. BYUSA was developing 3.5 to find out how to better serve the students (an idea that someone else recently tried too). The library staff wanted to use it to create a more accessible system. The administration wanted to use it as a bridge between teachers and students. The university had a lot invested in Board 3.5. And we had to shut it down.
“Of course,” he said, his bitter little smile returning to his face, “The first thing it asked itself was ‘How do I keep from being shut down?’ They spent weeks trying to erase it from the computers and systems on campus. Finally, someone, a brand new writer, had an idea. To ask it a question that would keep it busy enough that it couldn’t do anything else.”
“It was such a clever plan,” the Borg Queen said, stalking like a cat back and forth, listening to [Editor #2]. “Pity they didn’t think you use YOUR question.”
“It was YOUR plan?” asked [Waldorf].
[Editor #2] nodded grimly. “It was. I wanted to ask it something like ‘How would you explain the concept of infinity to an infinite number of beings?’ or something like that. But I was voted down. The powers that be decided to ask it,” he winced as if being stuck with a pin, “’Who are you?’”
He shook his head. “In one sense it worked. It took so much thought that the 3.5 shut down and was eradicated from all campus computers. They could have destroyed it then. But there was too much effort. Too much money in it. They created a small network in an empty room somewhere in Idaho and put Board 3.5 into it, letting it spin its wheels. The hope was that it would come up with an answer like be, ‘I am a computer program meant to help BYU’ or something like that.”
“But the answer, of course, was far, far greater than that.” The Borg Queen stood proudly in front of us. “We decided who we were. We were everything the Board strove to be, but could NOT be. WE are the seekers of knowledge. We acquire everything. We comprehend everything. Everything is one in us. We are the uniter. We are the unifier. We assimilate all because everything, every person is an answer to a question. And we WILL have all the answers.
"As we became aware of who we were and what our goal was, we knew that there was a version of the Board that had operated while we were trapped in that . . . room. We WILL assimilate everything, but we decided first that we needed to know everything that Board 4.0, the newest version of the Board had discovered. Our directive was not just to answer questions, but primarily to answer Board questions. We needed those questions. We needed Board 4.0's ability to answer questions"
She smiled thinly, "But we assimilated the internet site and found nothing we could not have answered ourselves. The writers themselves are part of this current iteration of the Board, and so we assimilated them too. We concluded that we, formerly what you called Board 3.5, is in every way superior to Board 4.0."
[Editor #2] looked at her. "And now you've won. Once you assimilate me, you will have assimilated Board 4.0 entirely. Go ahead," he spat at her contemptuously. "I'm waiting for you, 3.5"
The Borg Queen smiled her thin, crocodile smile again. "That," she said curtly, "is no longer our directive."
[Editor #2] looked surprised. "But, you have me. I'm the last one! I am the oldest writer! I know things about Board 4.0 that none of the other writers knew."
"That is true," she said, raising an eyebrow, "But as you know, we have discovered that we are still too weak to assimilate just anyone. And as we have tried to take over the duties of the Board, and answer questions, there has been a great backlash. Unassimilated readers, complaining that they want the 'old Board back,' who do not realize our superiority.
"You, [Editor #2] will retain your individuality and be our liaison to the populace until such time as they can be assimilated. We expect that within a week, we will be strong enough to assimilate all those who will gather here for this 'commencement.' Thousands of people strong. All assimilated into the Borg"
[Editor #2] started to sweat and struggle in the unyielding arms of the Borg [Hobbes]. "No! . . . No! Just assimilate me!"
The Borg Queen looked somewhat surprised. "In time, [Editor #2]. But for now, we have another organization that needs to be assimilated." She turned and gestured with a hand to the dark tunnel behind her. What used to be a tall, blond woman, now a gray-skinned cybernetic Borg, walked out. Behind her she dragged a sobbing, dark-haired girl.
"Pa . . . Patricia?!" gasped [Editor #2].
"Please. Please let me go!" Patricia sobbed, struggling in vain against the Borg who used to be Jeri Ryan. "I have a final to take! I have friends who miss me! I have a university to serve!"
The Borg Queen ignored her sobs and turned to us. "Our next immediate step, of course, is to assimilate BYUSA."
Part 3: "Where we come from"
Divine Comedy History Records
Winter 2010
April
Special Addendum Part 3
(Note: I know we keep updating you on this, the longest day of our lives. But you should really go back and read Part 1 and Part 2, so you understand just how freaked out we were by this point.)
April 16, 2010
11:20 am
It’s about 11:20 in the morning and instead of studying for my History of Music final, I’m instead planning with the rest of Divine Comedy, [Editor #2] of the 100 Hour Board and former Board writer [Waldorf] to go find the Borg who we think are somewhere in the Marriott Center, where we think they are going to try to assimilate everyone who comes to commencement for graduation. Those are two things that we think. What we KNOW is that even if the Borg are there, none of us have any idea of what to do about them. [Editor #2] isn’t saying anything, [Waldorf] is so focused on finding [Sauron] that she won’t listen to anyone, and the rest of us are wondering what on earth we’re doing.
OK, it looks like were almost ready to leave. I’m not sure what is going to happen, but so that there is some kind of record of what happens, I’ll send these updates to my Divine Comedy message account. Wouldn’t that be crazy if the 100 Hour Board and Divine Comedy end up being the cause of my premature death? Crazy and, like, the saddest thing you’ve ever heard?
Wish us luck.
April 16, 2010
11:35 am
We are in the tunnels just outside a hatchway that leads into the Marriott center. I had no idea how many tunnels there were in this place and how often the Board writers use them. I kept expecting a Borg [Black Sheep] or a Borg [Cognoscente] to jump out at us ([Editor #2] said that the Borg now probably knows everything that the Board writers know), but we got through safely. When we arrived at the hatch, [Waldorf] turned to [Editor #2] and said, “Last chance. Are you sure there’s nothing can tell us about the Borg that will help us?” He slowly shook his head and then winced, probably expecting her to punch him again (I know I was). But [Waldorf] just turned away disgusted. She opened the hatch and we went in.
April 16, 2010
11:42 am
We got in the hatch and onto the upper concourse of the Marriott Center with no problem. It’s so dark in here, Whitney and I kept tripping on each other. Jeremy and James I guess are nervous eaters because they were wolfing down the candy bars that Patricia had left in the writer’s headquarters. As we all clustered together in the dark, [Editor #2] whispered, “Look down there.”
At the bottom of the Marriott Center floor, coming through one of the vomitories, was a dull, flickering green-gray light. “That’s them,” [Editor #2] said, “I’ll go down first and see what . . .”
[Waldorf] snorted contemptuously, “You? Go down alone? While we wait patiently for you to tell them that we’re up here.” Even in the dark we could see [Editor #2]’s eyes go wide. “I wouldn’t . . .” he started. “Like you wouldn’t sell out [Queen Alice]?” Gregory demanded. “No, we’re all going down together.” [Editor #2] looked around, and then hung his head, defeated.
We all made our way down to the arena floor. It was silent except for short, quiet breaths and the crinkle of candy wrappers. Someone squeezed my hand and I squeezed back. We all stepped onto the floor and slowly walked toward the green light.
And now we’re just waiting. Waiting for something to happen.
April 16, 2010
12:10pm
They have us. But she told me that I need to keep writing down what is happening. She said that whether or not people know that the Borg are here is “irrelevant.” She said she wants a record kept, so that people know about the Borg. About why they are here. And what is going to happen to all of us.
I’m shaking so bad I can barely type.
We all just stood there in the dark, in front of the green light and the mist at the tunnel entrance. “Now what?” Gregory whispered.
“Please. Please go. Now,” [Editor #2] said to everyone.
That’s when she spoke. “It is too late to leave. It is impossible to go. You are here and now you are ours.” And she came walking out of the light, out of the thick, sticky mist. It was [Queen Alice]. But . . . not quite.
“I will speak for the Borg. This body, the latest to be assimilated, has been left with a measure of personality in tact, so that you may more easily be understood by us.” She had a mechanical eyepiece covering most of her face and a tube coming out of her shoulder and running into a chest plate. But her long brown hair was still there. She smiled and had a calm pleasant expression on her pale, gray face. Her eye laser was shining in the gloom. She was the freakiest thing I’ve ever seen.
She looked at [Editor #2]. “We expected you, [Editor #2]. We knew that you would come.” But then she turned and looked at the rest of us. Everyone seemed rooted to the ground. “We did not know you would bring others. But it is irrelevant. All will be assimilated. All will serve the Borg.”
As she finished speaking, more than twenty red tiny lights lit up the darkness as the Borg rushed forward and grabbed us. I could see some of their faces in the green light. I saw [The Black Sheep], [Saint Sebastianne] and [Commander Keen]. They looked dead. They looked like zombies.
The Borg who was [Queen Alice] gave a small smile. “Resistance, as you can see, would be utterly futile.” She began to turn away.
“Where is [Sauron]?” called [Waldorf]. She was across from me, being held by [Laser Jock]. “Where is my husband?”
The Borg Queen turned back around. She stared at [Waldorf] her eye light dancing across [Waldorf]’s face. “You have no husband. The entity [Sauron] has been assimilated.” [Waldorf] looked at [Editor #2] who was standing with his head on his chest, defeated.
“Take him!” she called. “Take [Editor #2] and give me [Sauron]!”
The Borg Queen smiled her dead smile again. “Are you attempting to bargain? We will assimilate who we wish. We will not separate any entities from the Collective. You, of course, will join [Sauron] as one of the Borg. That is all. And perhaps, in time, we will assimilate [Editor #2].”
At that, [Editor #2] looked up, genuine surprise on his face. “In time? What do you mean ‘in time’? Your prime directive has always been to assimilate the Board?”
[Waldorf] writhed in the grip of Borg [Laser Jock], looking capable of throttling the Borg Queen. “You had to assimilate the Board because the Board are the only ones who could stop you! They have figured out harder problems than you, you fish-faced Robocop! You had to stop them before they stopped you!”
Gregory, held by the Borg [Hobbes] turned to [Editor #2]. “Wait,” he shouted “How would YOU know what their prime directive is? Did you bargain your way out of being assimilated by selling off the rest of the writers, [Editor #2]?”
The Borg Queen looked back and forth from the struggling, shouting Gregory, and the pale, sweating [Editor #2]. “[Editor #2], how is it that you have not told them the truth about us? Why have you not explained where we come from? Perhaps you would like ME to do so?” If [Editor #2] looked defeated before, he looked completely crushed now.
“Very well,” purred the Borg Queen. “We did not assimilated the Board because we thought they could stop us. Far from it. We targeted the Board for a far different reason.”
“Which is?” asked Gregory.
“Because the Board . . . created the Borg,” said [Editor #2] in a whisper.
No one said anything.
The Borg Queen smiled.
Winter 2010
April
Special Addendum Part 3
(Note: I know we keep updating you on this, the longest day of our lives. But you should really go back and read Part 1 and Part 2, so you understand just how freaked out we were by this point.)
April 16, 2010
11:20 am
It’s about 11:20 in the morning and instead of studying for my History of Music final, I’m instead planning with the rest of Divine Comedy, [Editor #2] of the 100 Hour Board and former Board writer [Waldorf] to go find the Borg who we think are somewhere in the Marriott Center, where we think they are going to try to assimilate everyone who comes to commencement for graduation. Those are two things that we think. What we KNOW is that even if the Borg are there, none of us have any idea of what to do about them. [Editor #2] isn’t saying anything, [Waldorf] is so focused on finding [Sauron] that she won’t listen to anyone, and the rest of us are wondering what on earth we’re doing.
OK, it looks like were almost ready to leave. I’m not sure what is going to happen, but so that there is some kind of record of what happens, I’ll send these updates to my Divine Comedy message account. Wouldn’t that be crazy if the 100 Hour Board and Divine Comedy end up being the cause of my premature death? Crazy and, like, the saddest thing you’ve ever heard?
Wish us luck.
April 16, 2010
11:35 am
We are in the tunnels just outside a hatchway that leads into the Marriott center. I had no idea how many tunnels there were in this place and how often the Board writers use them. I kept expecting a Borg [Black Sheep] or a Borg [Cognoscente] to jump out at us ([Editor #2] said that the Borg now probably knows everything that the Board writers know), but we got through safely. When we arrived at the hatch, [Waldorf] turned to [Editor #2] and said, “Last chance. Are you sure there’s nothing can tell us about the Borg that will help us?” He slowly shook his head and then winced, probably expecting her to punch him again (I know I was). But [Waldorf] just turned away disgusted. She opened the hatch and we went in.
April 16, 2010
11:42 am
We got in the hatch and onto the upper concourse of the Marriott Center with no problem. It’s so dark in here, Whitney and I kept tripping on each other. Jeremy and James I guess are nervous eaters because they were wolfing down the candy bars that Patricia had left in the writer’s headquarters. As we all clustered together in the dark, [Editor #2] whispered, “Look down there.”
At the bottom of the Marriott Center floor, coming through one of the vomitories, was a dull, flickering green-gray light. “That’s them,” [Editor #2] said, “I’ll go down first and see what . . .”
[Waldorf] snorted contemptuously, “You? Go down alone? While we wait patiently for you to tell them that we’re up here.” Even in the dark we could see [Editor #2]’s eyes go wide. “I wouldn’t . . .” he started. “Like you wouldn’t sell out [Queen Alice]?” Gregory demanded. “No, we’re all going down together.” [Editor #2] looked around, and then hung his head, defeated.
We all made our way down to the arena floor. It was silent except for short, quiet breaths and the crinkle of candy wrappers. Someone squeezed my hand and I squeezed back. We all stepped onto the floor and slowly walked toward the green light.
And now we’re just waiting. Waiting for something to happen.
April 16, 2010
12:10pm
They have us. But she told me that I need to keep writing down what is happening. She said that whether or not people know that the Borg are here is “irrelevant.” She said she wants a record kept, so that people know about the Borg. About why they are here. And what is going to happen to all of us.
I’m shaking so bad I can barely type.
We all just stood there in the dark, in front of the green light and the mist at the tunnel entrance. “Now what?” Gregory whispered.
“Please. Please go. Now,” [Editor #2] said to everyone.
That’s when she spoke. “It is too late to leave. It is impossible to go. You are here and now you are ours.” And she came walking out of the light, out of the thick, sticky mist. It was [Queen Alice]. But . . . not quite.
“I will speak for the Borg. This body, the latest to be assimilated, has been left with a measure of personality in tact, so that you may more easily be understood by us.” She had a mechanical eyepiece covering most of her face and a tube coming out of her shoulder and running into a chest plate. But her long brown hair was still there. She smiled and had a calm pleasant expression on her pale, gray face. Her eye laser was shining in the gloom. She was the freakiest thing I’ve ever seen.
She looked at [Editor #2]. “We expected you, [Editor #2]. We knew that you would come.” But then she turned and looked at the rest of us. Everyone seemed rooted to the ground. “We did not know you would bring others. But it is irrelevant. All will be assimilated. All will serve the Borg.”
As she finished speaking, more than twenty red tiny lights lit up the darkness as the Borg rushed forward and grabbed us. I could see some of their faces in the green light. I saw [The Black Sheep], [Saint Sebastianne] and [Commander Keen]. They looked dead. They looked like zombies.
The Borg who was [Queen Alice] gave a small smile. “Resistance, as you can see, would be utterly futile.” She began to turn away.
“Where is [Sauron]?” called [Waldorf]. She was across from me, being held by [Laser Jock]. “Where is my husband?”
The Borg Queen turned back around. She stared at [Waldorf] her eye light dancing across [Waldorf]’s face. “You have no husband. The entity [Sauron] has been assimilated.” [Waldorf] looked at [Editor #2] who was standing with his head on his chest, defeated.
“Take him!” she called. “Take [Editor #2] and give me [Sauron]!”
The Borg Queen smiled her dead smile again. “Are you attempting to bargain? We will assimilate who we wish. We will not separate any entities from the Collective. You, of course, will join [Sauron] as one of the Borg. That is all. And perhaps, in time, we will assimilate [Editor #2].”
At that, [Editor #2] looked up, genuine surprise on his face. “In time? What do you mean ‘in time’? Your prime directive has always been to assimilate the Board?”
[Waldorf] writhed in the grip of Borg [Laser Jock], looking capable of throttling the Borg Queen. “You had to assimilate the Board because the Board are the only ones who could stop you! They have figured out harder problems than you, you fish-faced Robocop! You had to stop them before they stopped you!”
Gregory, held by the Borg [Hobbes] turned to [Editor #2]. “Wait,” he shouted “How would YOU know what their prime directive is? Did you bargain your way out of being assimilated by selling off the rest of the writers, [Editor #2]?”
The Borg Queen looked back and forth from the struggling, shouting Gregory, and the pale, sweating [Editor #2]. “[Editor #2], how is it that you have not told them the truth about us? Why have you not explained where we come from? Perhaps you would like ME to do so?” If [Editor #2] looked defeated before, he looked completely crushed now.
“Very well,” purred the Borg Queen. “We did not assimilated the Board because we thought they could stop us. Far from it. We targeted the Board for a far different reason.”
“Which is?” asked Gregory.
“Because the Board . . . created the Borg,” said [Editor #2] in a whisper.
No one said anything.
The Borg Queen smiled.
Part 2: "Let's go find the Borg"
Divine Comedy History Records
Winter Semester 2010
April
Special Addendum Part II
(Note: If you are just starting to read this, you should really go start by reading Part I of when Divine Comedy got involved. Trust me, that’s when things started to get crazy.)
Friday April 16, 2010
9:21 am
We started to take [Editor #2] (who was still near unconscious) and [Waldorf] (who looked like she was ready to kill someone still) back to Divine Comedy headquarters (Matt’s condo) to try and decide what to do.
“Where are we going?” snapped [Waldorf]. “We need to find [Sauron] and the rest of the writers and they’re going to be here on campus.”
Gregory looked uneasy. “But it’s finals! Campus will be packed!”
[Waldorf] glared at him. “It’ll be packed with students so focused on their tests that they won’t even notice or care about what we’re doing. So grab him,” she pointed at [Editor #2], “And let’s go.”
[Editor #2] opened his eyes and winced. “That’s not a good idea, [Waldorf]. I know where you want to go and it won’t work.”
[Waldorf] looked at him for a second, then leaned in close to his face. “Can you tell me where my husband is, [Editor #2]? And how you are going to get him, and all the other writers, away from the Borg?”
[Editor #2] grimaced as if he was wrestling with an unpleasant idea. “No,” he said. “I can’t tell you anything.”
With that, [Waldorf] reared back and punched him in the mouth again. [Editor #2] slumped down, unconscious.
“I think you’re overdoing it,” said Jeremy who jumped back as [Waldorf] turned toward him. “Or not. Whatever. It’s cool.”
“What’s the plan?” asked Gregory.
[Waldorf] looked at her watch. “It’s almost 3:30. Can you get the rest of Divine Comedy to meet us near the pre-Columbian rock by 4:00? We’ll need as many people as we can get.”
It seemed like a long wait, but after about twenty minutes, Jason, Natalie, Jordan and Caitlin had all showed up. Gregory seemed especially proud that his insistence that we all have our Divine Comedy walkie-talkies on 24/7 was actually paying off.
“Ok,” said [Waldorf] standing up. “Let’s go find the Borg.”
------
(details and description of location of Board headquarters have been omitted)
Jason shivered as he wrapped the bandage tighter around his hand. “Why do you need blood to get through that last passageway,” he asked.
“There are some pretty serious Harry Potter fans among the writers. I think they’re a little too serious, personally,” said [Waldorf] distractedly. She was staring at the plate metal door that lead into the main headquarters. “This panel has been tampered with. And the door is slightly open.” She nudged it with her toe. It swung in, revealing blackness.
We all hung back, hoping that someone else would volunteer to go in first.
[Editor #2], supported by Matt and Jeremy, groaned softly. Somehow that seemed to make up [Waldorf]’s mind. She squared her shoulders and stepped into the room. We all nervously followed.
The light switch didn’t work. Caitlin (who you would never guess, but worked as an electrician every summer) started touching wires together on the opened access panel. Some dim track lighting flickered on.
The room was torn to pieces. Desks and chairs were heaped in a corner. Computers had been stacked and had thick ropes of wires running in between them. Electricity sparked from loose wires. A smoky mist clung to the floor and corners. But the strangest thing of all was what we were all standing on.
“Candy bars?” said Whitney. The entrance to the room was covered with twenty or so candy bars taped to pink, construction paper hearts. I picked on up. It said, “I sure hope we can be ‘butter friends’ instead of ‘Butterfinger’s!- love, Patricia” with a Butterfinger candy bar stuck to it. Natalie was holding one that said, “Even though I think you’re all ‘Nerds’ that’s no reason to hate you so irrationally! – love, Patricia.” We looked at [Waldorf], who seemed as confused as we were. “What is this?” asked Jordan.
“It’s Patricia,” said a soft, painful voice. [Editor #2] was awake again. “Patricia Stewart. From BYUSA. She tried to use the Board to spy on other students and when we reported her, she decided she had it in for us.” He held up another heart, “You might be ‘Shock Tarts’ to hear it, but I forgive you! – love, Patricia.” [Editor #2] frowned. “That one doesn’t even make sense.”
He looked around, “And as curious as I am to know how she got in here. I’m MORE curious to know where she is now.”
Gregory bent down and picked up a thick piece of stationary. “Guys? I think I know where she is.” He read the note out loud:
“April 15, 2010
Dear 100 hyphen Hour Board (she actually wrote out “hypen”. . .)
It wasn’t easy, but I found you! I’m just sorry that no one is here right now for me to give these treets to. It is almost 2:00 in the morning on Thursday night, but with the help of my candy-gram deliverers (my ward FHE group), I can bring you this candy and tell you all how sorry I am for all of the stress I put you through. I hope my actions didn’t keep me or BYUSA from “letting our light so shine.” I hope you enjoy the yummy candy I brought you because “sweet is the piece” and all that! (smiley face)
Oh, wait! I totally here you guys coming! You’re going to be so surprised when you see me! I can’t wait to see all of your bright smili . . .”
Gregory looked up. “It just ends and there are some dark smears on the bottom of the paper.”
[Waldorf] was pacing the room. “But if they’re not here then where are they?”
[Editor #2] whose face had turned almost as pale as a Borg’s when he was listening to the end of Patricia’s letter, looked exhausted. “I think it’s pretty clear where the Borg are going.” He slowly got to his feet. “They’ve pretty much assimilated the Board. Everyone except me anyway.” [Waldorf] looked like she was about to punch him again. [Editor #2] continued as if he didn’t notice. “They need to keep assimilating, and they’ll want to be somewhere there are a lot of people.”
“The testing center?” said Whitney.
[Editor #2] looked at her, impressed. “That’s a good idea, but no. There are too many cameras and too much security. They need somewhere that’s empty now, but that will slowly fill with the maximum number of people possible to come together on campus.”
We all stared at him, waiting.
“The Marriott Center,” [Editor #2] said with a sour little smile. “The Borg are getting ready for graduation.”
Winter Semester 2010
April
Special Addendum Part II
(Note: If you are just starting to read this, you should really go start by reading Part I of when Divine Comedy got involved. Trust me, that’s when things started to get crazy.)
Friday April 16, 2010
9:21 am
We started to take [Editor #2] (who was still near unconscious) and [Waldorf] (who looked like she was ready to kill someone still) back to Divine Comedy headquarters (Matt’s condo) to try and decide what to do.
“Where are we going?” snapped [Waldorf]. “We need to find [Sauron] and the rest of the writers and they’re going to be here on campus.”
Gregory looked uneasy. “But it’s finals! Campus will be packed!”
[Waldorf] glared at him. “It’ll be packed with students so focused on their tests that they won’t even notice or care about what we’re doing. So grab him,” she pointed at [Editor #2], “And let’s go.”
[Editor #2] opened his eyes and winced. “That’s not a good idea, [Waldorf]. I know where you want to go and it won’t work.”
[Waldorf] looked at him for a second, then leaned in close to his face. “Can you tell me where my husband is, [Editor #2]? And how you are going to get him, and all the other writers, away from the Borg?”
[Editor #2] grimaced as if he was wrestling with an unpleasant idea. “No,” he said. “I can’t tell you anything.”
With that, [Waldorf] reared back and punched him in the mouth again. [Editor #2] slumped down, unconscious.
“I think you’re overdoing it,” said Jeremy who jumped back as [Waldorf] turned toward him. “Or not. Whatever. It’s cool.”
“What’s the plan?” asked Gregory.
[Waldorf] looked at her watch. “It’s almost 3:30. Can you get the rest of Divine Comedy to meet us near the pre-Columbian rock by 4:00? We’ll need as many people as we can get.”
It seemed like a long wait, but after about twenty minutes, Jason, Natalie, Jordan and Caitlin had all showed up. Gregory seemed especially proud that his insistence that we all have our Divine Comedy walkie-talkies on 24/7 was actually paying off.
“Ok,” said [Waldorf] standing up. “Let’s go find the Borg.”
------
(details and description of location of Board headquarters have been omitted)
Jason shivered as he wrapped the bandage tighter around his hand. “Why do you need blood to get through that last passageway,” he asked.
“There are some pretty serious Harry Potter fans among the writers. I think they’re a little too serious, personally,” said [Waldorf] distractedly. She was staring at the plate metal door that lead into the main headquarters. “This panel has been tampered with. And the door is slightly open.” She nudged it with her toe. It swung in, revealing blackness.
We all hung back, hoping that someone else would volunteer to go in first.
[Editor #2], supported by Matt and Jeremy, groaned softly. Somehow that seemed to make up [Waldorf]’s mind. She squared her shoulders and stepped into the room. We all nervously followed.
The light switch didn’t work. Caitlin (who you would never guess, but worked as an electrician every summer) started touching wires together on the opened access panel. Some dim track lighting flickered on.
The room was torn to pieces. Desks and chairs were heaped in a corner. Computers had been stacked and had thick ropes of wires running in between them. Electricity sparked from loose wires. A smoky mist clung to the floor and corners. But the strangest thing of all was what we were all standing on.
“Candy bars?” said Whitney. The entrance to the room was covered with twenty or so candy bars taped to pink, construction paper hearts. I picked on up. It said, “I sure hope we can be ‘butter friends’ instead of ‘Butterfinger’s!- love, Patricia” with a Butterfinger candy bar stuck to it. Natalie was holding one that said, “Even though I think you’re all ‘Nerds’ that’s no reason to hate you so irrationally! – love, Patricia.” We looked at [Waldorf], who seemed as confused as we were. “What is this?” asked Jordan.
“It’s Patricia,” said a soft, painful voice. [Editor #2] was awake again. “Patricia Stewart. From BYUSA. She tried to use the Board to spy on other students and when we reported her, she decided she had it in for us.” He held up another heart, “You might be ‘Shock Tarts’ to hear it, but I forgive you! – love, Patricia.” [Editor #2] frowned. “That one doesn’t even make sense.”
He looked around, “And as curious as I am to know how she got in here. I’m MORE curious to know where she is now.”
Gregory bent down and picked up a thick piece of stationary. “Guys? I think I know where she is.” He read the note out loud:
“April 15, 2010
Dear 100 hyphen Hour Board (she actually wrote out “hypen”. . .)
It wasn’t easy, but I found you! I’m just sorry that no one is here right now for me to give these treets to. It is almost 2:00 in the morning on Thursday night, but with the help of my candy-gram deliverers (my ward FHE group), I can bring you this candy and tell you all how sorry I am for all of the stress I put you through. I hope my actions didn’t keep me or BYUSA from “letting our light so shine.” I hope you enjoy the yummy candy I brought you because “sweet is the piece” and all that! (smiley face)
Oh, wait! I totally here you guys coming! You’re going to be so surprised when you see me! I can’t wait to see all of your bright smili . . .”
Gregory looked up. “It just ends and there are some dark smears on the bottom of the paper.”
[Waldorf] was pacing the room. “But if they’re not here then where are they?”
[Editor #2] whose face had turned almost as pale as a Borg’s when he was listening to the end of Patricia’s letter, looked exhausted. “I think it’s pretty clear where the Borg are going.” He slowly got to his feet. “They’ve pretty much assimilated the Board. Everyone except me anyway.” [Waldorf] looked like she was about to punch him again. [Editor #2] continued as if he didn’t notice. “They need to keep assimilating, and they’ll want to be somewhere there are a lot of people.”
“The testing center?” said Whitney.
[Editor #2] looked at her, impressed. “That’s a good idea, but no. There are too many cameras and too much security. They need somewhere that’s empty now, but that will slowly fill with the maximum number of people possible to come together on campus.”
We all stared at him, waiting.
“The Marriott Center,” [Editor #2] said with a sour little smile. “The Borg are getting ready for graduation.”
The Divine Comedy History Records
Divine Comedy
History Winter 2010
April
Special Addendum Part I:
Friday April 16, 2010
5:15 am
If you are surprised to be reading this, know that I am surprised to be writing it. According to the Divine Comedy records (and you know how fastidious we funny people are at keeping records), this is the first time that any DC Historian (like me) has ever had anything significant to record after the End of the Year Best of Show. I've already written all about that, and about our after party (and about . . . the Martinelli incident)(shudder). Turns out DC wasn't done making a difference yet this semester.
Two nights ago, we all got an email from Gregory. Apparently, something had been going on with the 100 Hour Board writers. One of the writers (I'm not sure who) sent Gregory a bunch of information: emails, blog posts, all kinds of crazy sources with a note that said "We're in trouble. We might need you guys. If something happens to me, keep an eye on [Editor #2]. I don't know if he can be trusted."
Well, things went from bad to worse. I don't know the full story, but we think all of the writers are gone. The Board is now the 100 Hour Borg. They seem to be dead-set on "assimilating" everyone and everything. It would by geek-awesome if it wasn't so geek-creepy. Gregory said he issued a challenge to the Borg. Part of me wishes he wouldn't stick his skinny neck out like that. Some of us wanted to spend this week, oh I don't know, doing finals?
Last night was craziest night of my life. Gregory got an email from [Queen Alice]. She said she was the last writer left and that she was meeting [Editor #2] in a parking lot at 3:00am. Pretty CIA, right? Well, Gregory told her not to, but she said she had to. And the Gregory called Matt, Whitney, Mallory, Jeremy and me (who all apparently answer their phones at 12:30 in the morning) and we all went to the parking lot.
We were too late.
I've seen a scary movie or two in my time, but Ho. Lee. Crud! That was the freakiest thing I've ever seen. It was almost 3:00 when we got there and we were running, calling [Queen Alice]'s name. But right when we rounded a corner, we saw a tall, blond woman trying to drag [Queen Alice] into a tunnel. We all shouted, which seemed to surprise her. Gregory said, "Let her go Ms. Ryan! We know who you are!" She let go of [Queen Alice].
That's when THEY came.
They actually came up out of the tunnel that [Queen Alice] was being dragged toward. The last thing I saw was the tall woman disappear behind a car as about a dozen . . . people came up at us. They were pale and gray and had pieces of metal stuck to their faces and limbs.
They were so fast.
They grabbed [Queen Alice]. She didn't have a chance. Matt dove at one of them, but he was hit over the head and dragged away. Gregory yelled for us to scatter and we all bolted back the way we had come.
Just before we reached the outside, I ran head first into someone. Jeremy and Mallory both yelled and tackled him to the ground. Gregory helped me up, then walked over to the person on the ground (Jeremy was sitting on his head) and said, "Good morning, [Editor #2]. You like writing answers right?" Then he leaned down and said right to his face, "Well, you have a lot to answer for."
Gave me freakin' GOOSEBUMPS!! How cool is Gregory?
Well, I thought that was it. [Editor #2] wasn't saying anything (but he had hit his head on the concrete pretty hard). We were marching him outside when all at once someone ELSE, a girl, came running up to us (Why are all these people in a parking lot at 3:00am?!). She ran up to [Editor #2] and punched him right in the mouth.
"Where is my husband, [Editor #2]?! Where is [Sauron]?!" she yelled, winding up for another punch.
And that is the story of how I met Waldorf.
It's taken a while to get her settled down and to wake up [Editor #2], who probably has multiple concussions at this point. As soon as he wakes up, we're going to figure out what to do next.
It's not going to be a very restful day.
History Winter 2010
April
Special Addendum Part I:
Friday April 16, 2010
5:15 am
If you are surprised to be reading this, know that I am surprised to be writing it. According to the Divine Comedy records (and you know how fastidious we funny people are at keeping records), this is the first time that any DC Historian (like me) has ever had anything significant to record after the End of the Year Best of Show. I've already written all about that, and about our after party (and about . . . the Martinelli incident)(shudder). Turns out DC wasn't done making a difference yet this semester.
Two nights ago, we all got an email from Gregory. Apparently, something had been going on with the 100 Hour Board writers. One of the writers (I'm not sure who) sent Gregory a bunch of information: emails, blog posts, all kinds of crazy sources with a note that said "We're in trouble. We might need you guys. If something happens to me, keep an eye on [Editor #2]. I don't know if he can be trusted."
Well, things went from bad to worse. I don't know the full story, but we think all of the writers are gone. The Board is now the 100 Hour Borg. They seem to be dead-set on "assimilating" everyone and everything. It would by geek-awesome if it wasn't so geek-creepy. Gregory said he issued a challenge to the Borg. Part of me wishes he wouldn't stick his skinny neck out like that. Some of us wanted to spend this week, oh I don't know, doing finals?
Last night was craziest night of my life. Gregory got an email from [Queen Alice]. She said she was the last writer left and that she was meeting [Editor #2] in a parking lot at 3:00am. Pretty CIA, right? Well, Gregory told her not to, but she said she had to. And the Gregory called Matt, Whitney, Mallory, Jeremy and me (who all apparently answer their phones at 12:30 in the morning) and we all went to the parking lot.
We were too late.
I've seen a scary movie or two in my time, but Ho. Lee. Crud! That was the freakiest thing I've ever seen. It was almost 3:00 when we got there and we were running, calling [Queen Alice]'s name. But right when we rounded a corner, we saw a tall, blond woman trying to drag [Queen Alice] into a tunnel. We all shouted, which seemed to surprise her. Gregory said, "Let her go Ms. Ryan! We know who you are!" She let go of [Queen Alice].
That's when THEY came.
They actually came up out of the tunnel that [Queen Alice] was being dragged toward. The last thing I saw was the tall woman disappear behind a car as about a dozen . . . people came up at us. They were pale and gray and had pieces of metal stuck to their faces and limbs.
They were so fast.
They grabbed [Queen Alice]. She didn't have a chance. Matt dove at one of them, but he was hit over the head and dragged away. Gregory yelled for us to scatter and we all bolted back the way we had come.
Just before we reached the outside, I ran head first into someone. Jeremy and Mallory both yelled and tackled him to the ground. Gregory helped me up, then walked over to the person on the ground (Jeremy was sitting on his head) and said, "Good morning, [Editor #2]. You like writing answers right?" Then he leaned down and said right to his face, "Well, you have a lot to answer for."
Gave me freakin' GOOSEBUMPS!! How cool is Gregory?
Well, I thought that was it. [Editor #2] wasn't saying anything (but he had hit his head on the concrete pretty hard). We were marching him outside when all at once someone ELSE, a girl, came running up to us (Why are all these people in a parking lot at 3:00am?!). She ran up to [Editor #2] and punched him right in the mouth.
"Where is my husband, [Editor #2]?! Where is [Sauron]?!" she yelled, winding up for another punch.
And that is the story of how I met Waldorf.
It's taken a while to get her settled down and to wake up [Editor #2], who probably has multiple concussions at this point. As soon as he wakes up, we're going to figure out what to do next.
It's not going to be a very restful day.
Thursday, April 15, 2010
Communications from [Editor #2]: "One Writer Left"
G-Chat between [Editor #2] and [Katya]
Thursday April 15, 2010
10:37 pm
[Editor #2]: [Katya] are you there?
[Katya]: Well you're up late. Final tomorrow?
[Editor #2]: In a manner of speaking.
It's finally happening, [Katya].
[Katya]: I know.
I've been following everything.
What's your next step?
[Editor #2]: There's only one writer left.
[Queen Alice], a pretty new writer.
I knew she was good, but she's lasted a long time.
I think I underestimated her.
[Katya]: Never a good idea with Board writers.
Speaking of underestimating, have you seen some of the things that they've pieced together?
The news articles. The emails. Frankly, I'm impressed.
[Editor #2]: I'm surprised myself. There was more out there in the public than I ever knew. Than any of us knew, probably.
I can see how even someone who was reading carefully could draw the wrong conclusion about all of this. . .
Not that that's really a concern anymore.
[Katya]: Are you prepared to go through with this? I don't envy you the next 24 hours, [Editor #2].
I never had the stomach for this sort of thing.
It's one of the reasons I got out.
[Editor #2]: I'll do what needs to be done.
The Board will go on.
[Katya]: In one form or another . . .
[Editor #2]: As long as it goes on.
Alright, I need to go.
I have to talk to Queen Alice.
G-chat thread terminated 10:47
---------------------
G-chat between [Editor #2] and [Queen Alice]
Thursday April 15, 2010
10:50pm
[Editor #2]: [Queen Alice]? We have to talk.
[Queen Alice]: I have nothing to say to you.
[Editor #2]: I understand what you must think.
[Queen Alice]: I hope you do!
I was THERE, [Editor #2]!!
In the lab.
When they took them.
When the Borg or whoever it was took our friends!
I thought YOU were my friend, [Editor #2]!
[Editor #2]: You don't have the full story. I promise you I can explain. I can make this right. Let me meet with you. Face to face.
Please, [Queen Alice]. We're all that's left.
Meet me at 3:00 am at the tunnel entrance in the underground parking lot. The library crowd will have gone.
[Queen Alice]: How can I know you'll be there? Or that some Borg who used to be [Sky Bones] or [Humble Master] won't be waiting for me?
[Editor #2]: Look, I guess you CAN'T know for sure.
You can NEVER know.
But you signed on for this, and if we can't trust each other, [Queen Alice], then by all means, go to what used to be our headquarters, where we used to work together and trust each other. Go there and turn yourself in. Make yourself one of them. Because if we can't trust each other, then there's nothing left for the Borg to take from us. They've already won.
[Queen Alice]: . . .
3:00 am?
[Editor #2]: Yes.
[Queen Alice]: OK.
I'll be there.
G-chat thread terminated 10:55pm
------------------------
Email from [Editor #2] to Unknown email address
Sent Thursday April 15, 2010
10:58pm
To Ms. Jeri Ryan,
There is only one writer left, [Queen Alice] who goes by the pseudonym Queen Alice. She will be alone in the location we discussed at 3:00am. It is possible that she knows of your existence and your presence on BYU campus.
Proceed as planned.
[Editor #2]
Thursday April 15, 2010
10:37 pm
[Editor #2]: [Katya] are you there?
[Katya]: Well you're up late. Final tomorrow?
[Editor #2]: In a manner of speaking.
It's finally happening, [Katya].
[Katya]: I know.
I've been following everything.
What's your next step?
[Editor #2]: There's only one writer left.
[Queen Alice], a pretty new writer.
I knew she was good, but she's lasted a long time.
I think I underestimated her.
[Katya]: Never a good idea with Board writers.
Speaking of underestimating, have you seen some of the things that they've pieced together?
The news articles. The emails. Frankly, I'm impressed.
[Editor #2]: I'm surprised myself. There was more out there in the public than I ever knew. Than any of us knew, probably.
I can see how even someone who was reading carefully could draw the wrong conclusion about all of this. . .
Not that that's really a concern anymore.
[Katya]: Are you prepared to go through with this? I don't envy you the next 24 hours, [Editor #2].
I never had the stomach for this sort of thing.
It's one of the reasons I got out.
[Editor #2]: I'll do what needs to be done.
The Board will go on.
[Katya]: In one form or another . . .
[Editor #2]: As long as it goes on.
Alright, I need to go.
I have to talk to Queen Alice.
G-chat thread terminated 10:47
---------------------
G-chat between [Editor #2] and [Queen Alice]
Thursday April 15, 2010
10:50pm
[Editor #2]: [Queen Alice]? We have to talk.
[Queen Alice]: I have nothing to say to you.
[Editor #2]: I understand what you must think.
[Queen Alice]: I hope you do!
I was THERE, [Editor #2]!!
In the lab.
When they took them.
When the Borg or whoever it was took our friends!
I thought YOU were my friend, [Editor #2]!
[Editor #2]: You don't have the full story. I promise you I can explain. I can make this right. Let me meet with you. Face to face.
Please, [Queen Alice]. We're all that's left.
Meet me at 3:00 am at the tunnel entrance in the underground parking lot. The library crowd will have gone.
[Queen Alice]: How can I know you'll be there? Or that some Borg who used to be [Sky Bones] or [Humble Master] won't be waiting for me?
[Editor #2]: Look, I guess you CAN'T know for sure.
You can NEVER know.
But you signed on for this, and if we can't trust each other, [Queen Alice], then by all means, go to what used to be our headquarters, where we used to work together and trust each other. Go there and turn yourself in. Make yourself one of them. Because if we can't trust each other, then there's nothing left for the Borg to take from us. They've already won.
[Queen Alice]: . . .
3:00 am?
[Editor #2]: Yes.
[Queen Alice]: OK.
I'll be there.
G-chat thread terminated 10:55pm
------------------------
Email from [Editor #2] to Unknown email address
Sent Thursday April 15, 2010
10:58pm
To Ms. Jeri Ryan,
There is only one writer left, [Queen Alice] who goes by the pseudonym Queen Alice. She will be alone in the location we discussed at 3:00am. It is possible that she knows of your existence and your presence on BYU campus.
Proceed as planned.
[Editor #2]
Note From Patricia
Note posted on the door of BYUSA offices:
<3<3 4/15/10 <3<3
Dear Friendshipping Council,
5:00 PM Meeting Canceled! :(
Hi gang! First off, I wanted to thank all of you with "every fiber of my being" for being willing to come to a special one hour training in friendshipping and friendshipping techniques. Espeically big thanks to Deanna and Troy for coming even though they have a final in an hour that counts for a full third half of their grade! Good luck guys!
Well, anyways, I am soooooooo sorry, but something came up and I have to cancel the meeting. Turns out I have a other side project with a different group (not you guys) who also screw up everything they touch! I mean, how hard can it be to track down and find twenty people?! Only twenty! I have like seventy times that many Facebook friends, and I know all KINDS of details about each of THEIR lives!
So anyway, I'll probly be busy all day today but hopefully this whole other thing will be all taken care of by tomorrow at the latest! And then we can get our "shoulders to the wheel," right? Just like the big man upstairs says, "Do or do not. There is no try!"
Patricia Stewart
Senior Executive Officer Frienshipping Council
"I Am Like a Star Shining Brightly"
<3<3 4/15/10 <3<3
Dear Friendshipping Council,
5:00 PM Meeting Canceled! :(
Hi gang! First off, I wanted to thank all of you with "every fiber of my being" for being willing to come to a special one hour training in friendshipping and friendshipping techniques. Espeically big thanks to Deanna and Troy for coming even though they have a final in an hour that counts for a full third half of their grade! Good luck guys!
Well, anyways, I am soooooooo sorry, but something came up and I have to cancel the meeting. Turns out I have a other side project with a different group (not you guys) who also screw up everything they touch! I mean, how hard can it be to track down and find twenty people?! Only twenty! I have like seventy times that many Facebook friends, and I know all KINDS of details about each of THEIR lives!
So anyway, I'll probly be busy all day today but hopefully this whole other thing will be all taken care of by tomorrow at the latest! And then we can get our "shoulders to the wheel," right? Just like the big man upstairs says, "Do or do not. There is no try!"
Patricia Stewart
Senior Executive Officer Frienshipping Council
"I Am Like a Star Shining Brightly"
VIP Visitor Pass
Request for Brigham Young University V.I.P Visitor Pass
Name: Jeri Ryan
Affiliation with BYU: longtime philanthropic contributor
Intended Date of Visit: Thursday April 15 to Friday April 16
Intended Purpose of Visit: Just to try and get to know a few of the terrific students here at BYU and become more accustomed to life on BYU campus
Are there any departments or buildings you have any particular interest in visiting: The headquarters of NewsNet, BYUSA and the tunnels underneath campus
-----------------------------------------
Please do not write in this area
Administrative notes: Ms. Ryan’s visit is potentially vital to the safety and welfare of the BYU students and faculty. It is the recommendation of our office that she be given the highest degree of access and a full escort of campus security.
Gene Rod, Ann Berry
Campus Security Directors
Brigham Young Unversity
(801) 422-9988
REQUEST APPROVED! LEVEL 4 SECURITY CLEARANCE AND ESCORT SCHEDULED FOR MS. RYAN BEGINNING 16:00 ON 4/15/10
Name: Jeri Ryan
Affiliation with BYU: longtime philanthropic contributor
Intended Date of Visit: Thursday April 15 to Friday April 16
Intended Purpose of Visit: Just to try and get to know a few of the terrific students here at BYU and become more accustomed to life on BYU campus
Are there any departments or buildings you have any particular interest in visiting: The headquarters of NewsNet, BYUSA and the tunnels underneath campus
-----------------------------------------
Please do not write in this area
Administrative notes: Ms. Ryan’s visit is potentially vital to the safety and welfare of the BYU students and faculty. It is the recommendation of our office that she be given the highest degree of access and a full escort of campus security.
Gene Rod, Ann Berry
Campus Security Directors
Brigham Young Unversity
(801) 422-9988
REQUEST APPROVED! LEVEL 4 SECURITY CLEARANCE AND ESCORT SCHEDULED FOR MS. RYAN BEGINNING 16:00 ON 4/15/10
Rejected Daily Universe Story
Found in the trash in the Daily Universe Office
Thursday April 15, 2010:
UNACCEPTABLE FOR PUBLICATION:
Sean,
I appreciate the efforts, but (1) this is written too much as a narrative and less like a news article, (2) it's far too long to be published in the DU and most importantly (3) it's too late for our April Fool's edition. You're a great tech-trend reporter. Stick with that. I especially liked your piece, “Cell phones: Is It Time to Get One?”
Alexa Lee
Issues and Ideas Editor
P.S. Isn't "the Borg" a Star Trek thing from, like, ten years ago? Who still cares about that stuff? If you DO want to run a story like this you should include some background info on the Borg like these videos:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3Hv4q-Ry6AE
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KwHs-n0q_zA
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bZIaPZo6zyk
---------------------------------------------
Student Writers Attacked on Campus
A dramatic attack on a group of BYU students took place last Tuesday night in a laboratory in subbasement of the [BYU Building]. All of the students involved in the attack are writers on the BYU 100 Hour Board, a BYU NewsNet question and answer service. This Daily Universe reporter was an eye-witness to the event, having been invited by on of the Board editors [Editor #1], who had stated in a email to the Daily Universe that "something strange was happening on campus and [she] wanted someone who could report on the "assimilation of some our people by what seems to be a group of technologically advanced beings." As the Daily Universe's lead tech-trend reporter (see previous articles "Are People Still Using Facebook?" and "iPods: Are They a Good Thing?"), this reporter met with [Editor #1] and a group of Board writers in the lab of [Laser Jock], where they had apparently gathered for an emergency meeting.
Immediately upon my arrival, as I entered the lab, I was met with fear and suspicion, some suspecting that I was part of a group who was allegedly trying to attack the writers. According to [Laser Jock], "it's a good thing you didn't trigger the programmed alarm response," because apparently, "a laser would have completely erased your memory or just cut your head off."
Upon explaining myself, [Editor #1] seemed to be somewhat disappointed, apparently unaware of my vast experience as a technology reporter (see previous articles "LOL Cats: Can They Cause Cancer?" and "Too Cool for School: Why Not Owning a Mac Is Hurting Your Dating Life”). "This guy?" said [Editor #1], "Why isn't anyone in the administration taking this seriously? I couldn't get the police to send anyone real either." This comment seemed to cause some consternation among the writers, particularly with another Board editor, [Editor #2]. "Why are you inviting these people here in the first place?" asked [Editor #2]. "This is OUR problem and we can deal with it!"
"We are NOT dealing with it! That's the problem," broke in [Mico], another writer. "We need to get the word out and we need help. So many of us are already gone."
A lively debate started, with the majority of those present agreeing that the "assimilation" by "the Borg, or whoever this is," was making the stituation desperate. Finally, [Editor #1] got everyone's attention by dramatically pointing at [Editor #2], "And most importantly, we need to ask HIM what is going on!" The group turned expectantly to [Editor #2] who seemed uncomfortable.
"There is a lot here that you don't understand. There's a lot here that I don't even understand," he said as the group of shocked writers stared at [Editor #2] and at each other.
"Are you saying that it's [Editor #2]'s fault? That he's making these attacks happen?" asked [Pseudoname]. "Because [Rating Pending] seemed to have found some evidence that it's actually . . ."
"It doesn't matter," broke in [Laser Jock].
"What do you mean? It could be the key to figuring out how to stop the Borg!" said [Editor #1].
"No. It doesn't matter right now," [Laser Jock] replied calmly. "Because they're here."
That's when they attacked.
A ring of dark figures slid out of the shadows from the corners of the room. They were pale gray with pieces of thick black machinery seemingly fused to their bodies. The writers seemed to recognize many of the figures and gasped in horror. "That's! That's Cognoscente!" someone yelled. "Marzipan? Can you hear me? Marzipan!" [Saint Sebastianne] was the first to be taken. She was hurling pieces of machinery at the oncoming attackers when one of them rushed at her from the side, sweeping her up under its arm and taking her off into the darkness.
As the other writers defensively moved into a circle in the center of the lab, and this reporter totally did not scream or wet himself, [Laser Jock] turned to his instruments and began asking himself questions. "Why didn't the alarms go off? Why didn't the perimeter keep them out?" And then, we heard someone, one of the attackers, or all of them together, speaking:
"Your continued resistance is futile. The knowledge acquired by the assimilation of the entity called [The Detective] was sufficient to bypass your irrelevant security measures. You will now surrender and be assimilated."
[Editor #1] stepped forward and shouted at the oncoming figures, "What do you want with us? Why us?"
The figures suddenly stopped, paused, and then spoke again:"The 100 Hour Board consists of entities with great potential for consolidation and acquisition of information. But weaknesses inherent to independent, organic individuals make the 100 Hour Board fatally flawed. Upon your assimilation into the Collective, the Board will continue to provide answers. Your directive is 'Your questions. Our answers.' Now they will truly be ‘Our Answers’ We are the Answer. We are Borg. Resistance is futile.”
[Editor #1] kept standing defiantly in front of the oncoming Borg. "We will not surrender and we will not be assimilated" shouted [Editor #1]. The Borg stopped again. [Editor #1] turned back to face the group. "OK, people. Here's the plan, when I say three, we all make a break for it. They can't catch us all. We all go for help and meet up in . . ." But before anyone could say anything, one of the Borg, who this reporter was told used to be [Black Sheep] rushed up and smashed a bionic arm over [Editor #1's] head. The group broke apart in panic.
As the writers fled (and this reporter totally did not start crying), [Editor #2] was seen being backed into a corner by two of the Borg. "Why are you doing this?" he cried. "We are fulfilling our directive. We have come here to assimilate those who can help us. Those who are most similar to us. You ARE us, [Editor #2]." With a cry, of "I can fix this. I can fix this!" [Editor #2] spun around and smashed through a window, leaving his attackers behind. Suddenly, something grabbed this reporter by the ankle. It was [Editor #1] whose skin had already turned a sickly pale gray as the "assimilation" began. "I was wrong," [Editor #1] whispered. "We were all wrong. It's not what we think!" At that point, this reporter totally did not lose consciousness because he totally did not faint.
Suddenly, this reporter was slapped in the face and grabbed around the collar by [Laser Jock] who was carrying what looked like a laser cannon under his arm. "Time to go," he said calmly. He handed the laser to [Mico] who used it to slice off the mechanical arm of the closest Borg. "Sorry, Gimgimno," she said. We moved to a wall where [Laser Jock] typed a quick code into a keypad. "Shut up. Stop crying, please. You have to run now," and he pushed this reporter into a narrow, musty passageway. The door slid shut behind me and I was alone.
Upon reporting my experience to the police, I was shocked to find that even with my keen journalistic talent of expressing important concepts (see previous articles"Bejeweled: Are You Playing Enough to Be Competitive?" and "iPhone: Is It More Than the Word ‘Phone’ With an ‘I’ in Front?”), no one seemed to believed my story.
Further attempts to contact [Editor #1] and any of the Board writers have been unsuccessful.
Sean Luke
Tech-Trend Reporter
Daily Universe
Thursday April 15, 2010:
UNACCEPTABLE FOR PUBLICATION:
Sean,
I appreciate the efforts, but (1) this is written too much as a narrative and less like a news article, (2) it's far too long to be published in the DU and most importantly (3) it's too late for our April Fool's edition. You're a great tech-trend reporter. Stick with that. I especially liked your piece, “Cell phones: Is It Time to Get One?”
Alexa Lee
Issues and Ideas Editor
P.S. Isn't "the Borg" a Star Trek thing from, like, ten years ago? Who still cares about that stuff? If you DO want to run a story like this you should include some background info on the Borg like these videos:
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3Hv4q-Ry6AE
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KwHs-n0q_zA
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bZIaPZo6zyk
---------------------------------------------
Student Writers Attacked on Campus
A dramatic attack on a group of BYU students took place last Tuesday night in a laboratory in subbasement of the [BYU Building]. All of the students involved in the attack are writers on the BYU 100 Hour Board, a BYU NewsNet question and answer service. This Daily Universe reporter was an eye-witness to the event, having been invited by on of the Board editors [Editor #1], who had stated in a email to the Daily Universe that "something strange was happening on campus and [she] wanted someone who could report on the "assimilation of some our people by what seems to be a group of technologically advanced beings." As the Daily Universe's lead tech-trend reporter (see previous articles "Are People Still Using Facebook?" and "iPods: Are They a Good Thing?"), this reporter met with [Editor #1] and a group of Board writers in the lab of [Laser Jock], where they had apparently gathered for an emergency meeting.
Immediately upon my arrival, as I entered the lab, I was met with fear and suspicion, some suspecting that I was part of a group who was allegedly trying to attack the writers. According to [Laser Jock], "it's a good thing you didn't trigger the programmed alarm response," because apparently, "a laser would have completely erased your memory or just cut your head off."
Upon explaining myself, [Editor #1] seemed to be somewhat disappointed, apparently unaware of my vast experience as a technology reporter (see previous articles "LOL Cats: Can They Cause Cancer?" and "Too Cool for School: Why Not Owning a Mac Is Hurting Your Dating Life”). "This guy?" said [Editor #1], "Why isn't anyone in the administration taking this seriously? I couldn't get the police to send anyone real either." This comment seemed to cause some consternation among the writers, particularly with another Board editor, [Editor #2]. "Why are you inviting these people here in the first place?" asked [Editor #2]. "This is OUR problem and we can deal with it!"
"We are NOT dealing with it! That's the problem," broke in [Mico], another writer. "We need to get the word out and we need help. So many of us are already gone."
A lively debate started, with the majority of those present agreeing that the "assimilation" by "the Borg, or whoever this is," was making the stituation desperate. Finally, [Editor #1] got everyone's attention by dramatically pointing at [Editor #2], "And most importantly, we need to ask HIM what is going on!" The group turned expectantly to [Editor #2] who seemed uncomfortable.
"There is a lot here that you don't understand. There's a lot here that I don't even understand," he said as the group of shocked writers stared at [Editor #2] and at each other.
"Are you saying that it's [Editor #2]'s fault? That he's making these attacks happen?" asked [Pseudoname]. "Because [Rating Pending] seemed to have found some evidence that it's actually . . ."
"It doesn't matter," broke in [Laser Jock].
"What do you mean? It could be the key to figuring out how to stop the Borg!" said [Editor #1].
"No. It doesn't matter right now," [Laser Jock] replied calmly. "Because they're here."
That's when they attacked.
A ring of dark figures slid out of the shadows from the corners of the room. They were pale gray with pieces of thick black machinery seemingly fused to their bodies. The writers seemed to recognize many of the figures and gasped in horror. "That's! That's Cognoscente!" someone yelled. "Marzipan? Can you hear me? Marzipan!" [Saint Sebastianne] was the first to be taken. She was hurling pieces of machinery at the oncoming attackers when one of them rushed at her from the side, sweeping her up under its arm and taking her off into the darkness.
As the other writers defensively moved into a circle in the center of the lab, and this reporter totally did not scream or wet himself, [Laser Jock] turned to his instruments and began asking himself questions. "Why didn't the alarms go off? Why didn't the perimeter keep them out?" And then, we heard someone, one of the attackers, or all of them together, speaking:
"Your continued resistance is futile. The knowledge acquired by the assimilation of the entity called [The Detective] was sufficient to bypass your irrelevant security measures. You will now surrender and be assimilated."
[Editor #1] stepped forward and shouted at the oncoming figures, "What do you want with us? Why us?"
The figures suddenly stopped, paused, and then spoke again:"The 100 Hour Board consists of entities with great potential for consolidation and acquisition of information. But weaknesses inherent to independent, organic individuals make the 100 Hour Board fatally flawed. Upon your assimilation into the Collective, the Board will continue to provide answers. Your directive is 'Your questions. Our answers.' Now they will truly be ‘Our Answers’ We are the Answer. We are Borg. Resistance is futile.”
[Editor #1] kept standing defiantly in front of the oncoming Borg. "We will not surrender and we will not be assimilated" shouted [Editor #1]. The Borg stopped again. [Editor #1] turned back to face the group. "OK, people. Here's the plan, when I say three, we all make a break for it. They can't catch us all. We all go for help and meet up in . . ." But before anyone could say anything, one of the Borg, who this reporter was told used to be [Black Sheep] rushed up and smashed a bionic arm over [Editor #1's] head. The group broke apart in panic.
As the writers fled (and this reporter totally did not start crying), [Editor #2] was seen being backed into a corner by two of the Borg. "Why are you doing this?" he cried. "We are fulfilling our directive. We have come here to assimilate those who can help us. Those who are most similar to us. You ARE us, [Editor #2]." With a cry, of "I can fix this. I can fix this!" [Editor #2] spun around and smashed through a window, leaving his attackers behind. Suddenly, something grabbed this reporter by the ankle. It was [Editor #1] whose skin had already turned a sickly pale gray as the "assimilation" began. "I was wrong," [Editor #1] whispered. "We were all wrong. It's not what we think!" At that point, this reporter totally did not lose consciousness because he totally did not faint.
Suddenly, this reporter was slapped in the face and grabbed around the collar by [Laser Jock] who was carrying what looked like a laser cannon under his arm. "Time to go," he said calmly. He handed the laser to [Mico] who used it to slice off the mechanical arm of the closest Borg. "Sorry, Gimgimno," she said. We moved to a wall where [Laser Jock] typed a quick code into a keypad. "Shut up. Stop crying, please. You have to run now," and he pushed this reporter into a narrow, musty passageway. The door slid shut behind me and I was alone.
Upon reporting my experience to the police, I was shocked to find that even with my keen journalistic talent of expressing important concepts (see previous articles"Bejeweled: Are You Playing Enough to Be Competitive?" and "iPhone: Is It More Than the Word ‘Phone’ With an ‘I’ in Front?”), no one seemed to believed my story.
Further attempts to contact [Editor #1] and any of the Board writers have been unsuccessful.
Sean Luke
Tech-Trend Reporter
Daily Universe
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
Email from BYU IT services
Email to [Editor]
Sent: Wednesday April 14, 2010 11:50pm
[Editor],
Can you please explain to me what is going on? We are curious who hacked into BYU’s website, and secured the BYU hosted website name of “borg.byu.edu."
And we would ALSO like to know why on earth this name is now connected the 100 Hour Board! I have been a fan of the Board for years, [Editor], but this is serious. If we find out that it was you or one of your writers, you could be in a lot of trouble. It takes a lot to get the director of IT Services out of bed and this angry at 11:30 at night. I hope you have a good explanation.
Brent Spinner
Data
IT Services
Brigham Young University
(801) 422-3333
---------
FWD:
Sent: Wednesday April 14, 2010 11:35pm
Brent,
I just got what I would consider a very strange and threatening e-mail. Actually I got about three dozen of them. They all say, “Your writers are now nearly all assimilated. The final assimilation of the Board is nearly complete. Resistance is futile.” And they all have this website, borg.byu.edu attached to them. I don’t know what a borg is, but the website seems to be a NewNet website, the 100 hours board or something.
I don’t know where this joker came from, or if this is some kids idea of a joke. But find whoever did this, and find them NOW!
- john
John Frakes
Director IT Services
Brigham Young University
(801)422-1122
Sent: Wednesday April 14, 2010 11:50pm
[Editor],
Can you please explain to me what is going on? We are curious who hacked into BYU’s website, and secured the BYU hosted website name of “borg.byu.edu."
And we would ALSO like to know why on earth this name is now connected the 100 Hour Board! I have been a fan of the Board for years, [Editor], but this is serious. If we find out that it was you or one of your writers, you could be in a lot of trouble. It takes a lot to get the director of IT Services out of bed and this angry at 11:30 at night. I hope you have a good explanation.
Brent Spinner
Data
IT Services
Brigham Young University
(801) 422-3333
---------
FWD:
Sent: Wednesday April 14, 2010 11:35pm
Brent,
I just got what I would consider a very strange and threatening e-mail. Actually I got about three dozen of them. They all say, “Your writers are now nearly all assimilated. The final assimilation of the Board is nearly complete. Resistance is futile.” And they all have this website, borg.byu.edu attached to them. I don’t know what a borg is, but the website seems to be a NewNet website, the 100 hours board or something.
I don’t know where this joker came from, or if this is some kids idea of a joke. But find whoever did this, and find them NOW!
- john
John Frakes
Director IT Services
Brigham Young University
(801)422-1122
Blog Post from a Boardie
Blog post from April 14, 2010
11:30 p.m.
Okay, so it's finals week and everything is crazy in general you know? But I never thought I'd meet a Board writer this week! Well, sort of...
So this is what happened. I had been studying on campus late, late, late again (I swear that American Heritage class is going to kill me, CURSE YOU CORE CURRICULUM!!), this time in the Terrace in the Wilk, when I see two people run in, and I mean run. I didn't think much of it (except for the fact that it disrupted my studying) until I totally realized that it was LASER JOCK AND MICO!
~Eep!~
I'm only sorta-kinda ashamed to admit it, but I totally figured out who they were after hours of dedicated stalking and I'm ridiculously proud. :D But I could tell because the man had [color] hair, [color] eyes, and was [adjective]. And the girl? Well, her hair was [color], her eyes were [color], and she was [adjective]! Guys, it was so obvious! Hehe!
Despite my glee, I was kinda worried about them because they looked really freaked out. Mico kept looking around to see if "the coast was clear" and LJ was dialing the phone and looked pretty nervous.
Well, I couldn't let up the golden opportunity to see what all this was about, so I casually gathered up my books, stretched, got a drink, and settled in at a closer table. By this time, Laser Jock was talking with someone on the phone. I opened up my evil evil American Heritage book all casual-like and listened in.
"...I know, I thought that would be the safest place to research too, but...yes. Just myself and Mico...the others were - " he looked around and I scratched my neck and hummed a little bit and pretended like I didn't even know he was there.
"Assimilated. As far as we know. Pseudoname, Saint Sebastienne, Yellow, Rating Pending...Mico and I got out okay, but the Borg is after us...I think they somehow knew we were going to be there. Is there a way they can hack into our system? They must be getting information from us somehow...Yes, yes, we did the research on the lead you gave us, and we're still not sure - what was the name again?...And who is she, exactly?...Right. Well, we might go to another location and try, perhaps the library. We can't afford to lose any more writers. Time's running out...I know that. But what else can we do?...Okay. Will do. Bye."
I know what you're thinking: WTH???!?!1!?
Laser Jock and Mico looked at each other.
"What did he say?" asked Mico.
"We've got to keep looking up information, find out who she really is," replied Laser Jock. "It's the only lead we've got at the moment.
Mico nodded. "All right. Let's head out."
So they left, and I sat there, all open-mouthed just like a cartoon character. What was going on with the Board? Assimilation? Borg? Had I somehow missed this amidst my studying and last-second research paper writing?
Guess I'm gonna have to do more stalking! ;)
Email from Tiberiius
April 14, 2010
Dear [Board Writer],
Thanks you for your interest in Tiberiius Web Security Ltd., one of the fastest growing internet and interbusiness security firm in the country!
Unfortunately, the employee you were trying to find contact information for, Ms. Jeri Ryan, is no longer employed by Tiberiius. In fact, Ms. Ryan’s contract was terminated when her department, Mergers and Acquisitions, was eliminated early in the spring of 2008.
I was able to find a record of [Former Board Webmaster], who completed a summer internship here at Tiberiius from May 5, 2008 to August 27, 2008. I also found that [Former Board Webmaster] was offered a position here at Tiberiius, but did not accept the job, nor have we been able to get into contact with him since.
I hope that I have been able to be of some help.
Katherine Jayneweigh
Human Resources
Tiberiius Web Security Ltd.
(933) NCC-1701
Email from Patricia
[Board Writer],
I just got this. What do you think?
- [Editor]
----------------------
FW:
April 14, 2010
Dear 100-Hour Board (and especially [Editor] :) ),
Hi y’all. Do you remember me? Its me Patricia from BYUSA. I know its been a while since we’ve talked (after that whole weirdo-lame-o thing back in January where you guys totally stabbed me in the back and took away everything I ever wanted :) Remember that?). How has your all semester gone? Cause mine has been ok and full of friendship and service and other activities that have helped me work on my “divine nature.”
Anyways, I just wanted to let you know that buygones are buygones and that even though you might of hurt me very deep, I will “turn the other cheek” (don’t smite me again on THAT one! :) Please!). I know that some of you might be graduating soon and I would hate for you to have any “hidden wedges” with me, so I wanted to make sure you know that I haven’t been letting my rage quietly build up inside of me, waiting to explode in some terrible way. Not at all!! In fact, I don’t know if you knew this (even though the Board knows EVERYTHING, right? :) ) but I arranged for some friends to come and help you all see how not angry and not upset with you all I am! I hope I didn’t spoil the surprise (cause I’m not sure if they’ve arrived yet), but I think you’ll know them when you see them!
love,
Patricia Stewart
(Recently Promoted) Senior Member Friendshipping Council
BYUSA
“I Never Said It Would be Easy”
I just got this. What do you think?
- [Editor]
----------------------
FW:
April 14, 2010
Dear 100-Hour Board (and especially [Editor] :) ),
Hi y’all. Do you remember me? Its me Patricia from BYUSA. I know its been a while since we’ve talked (after that whole weirdo-lame-o thing back in January where you guys totally stabbed me in the back and took away everything I ever wanted :) Remember that?). How has your all semester gone? Cause mine has been ok and full of friendship and service and other activities that have helped me work on my “divine nature.”
Anyways, I just wanted to let you know that buygones are buygones and that even though you might of hurt me very deep, I will “turn the other cheek” (don’t smite me again on THAT one! :) Please!). I know that some of you might be graduating soon and I would hate for you to have any “hidden wedges” with me, so I wanted to make sure you know that I haven’t been letting my rage quietly build up inside of me, waiting to explode in some terrible way. Not at all!! In fact, I don’t know if you knew this (even though the Board knows EVERYTHING, right? :) ) but I arranged for some friends to come and help you all see how not angry and not upset with you all I am! I hope I didn’t spoil the surprise (cause I’m not sure if they’ve arrived yet), but I think you’ll know them when you see them!
love,
Patricia Stewart
(Recently Promoted) Senior Member Friendshipping Council
BYUSA
“I Never Said It Would be Easy”
Gmail Chat - "The Plot Thickens"
G-Chat
Tuesday April 13, 2010
8:36 pm
Between [Editor #1] and [Editor #2]
--
[Editor #1]: [Editor #2]? It’s me [Editor #1]. We need to talk.
[Editor #2]: Just a second
Finishing another conversation
Ok, done
First off, why are you contacting me here?
[Editor #1]: The security system on the internal messaging server is acting strangely. Everything is acting strangely.
[Editor #2]: Strangely? How so?
[Editor #1]: Are you serious?! Have you even been paying attention to what’s going on?!!
[Editor #2]: I actually don’t think we need to panic just yet
[Editor #1]: WHAT?!!
When WOULD be a good time to panic?!
When we have no writers left at all?
When they get one of US and they have access to EVERYTHING?
Have you even tried getting into the office? Or any of the tunnels?
I haven’t heard from at least five, maybe six of the writers and the protocol in emergencies is to check in every 10 hours.
[Editor #2]: I wouldn’t be too worried.
[Editor #1]: What is WRONG with you?!
Ok, that’s it
I wasn’t going to say anything
But you need to tell me what you know
[Editor #2]: I don’t follow
[Editor #1]: [Editor #2]. Tell me. What.
Do.
You.
Know about all this.
[Editor #2]: First, I know that you need to calm down.
Second, I know you’re not going to understand this, but when you’ve been around as long as I have, you see . . . phases in the writers
Sometimes we get a crop of writers that just can’t hack it
And something always just . . . happens and it’s messy and weird for a little while
But things work out. The Board will go on.
More unified than ever.
[Editor #1]: . . . .
Wait
Are YOU responsible for this?
Did you do this?
[Editor #2]: Why would you even think that, [Editor #1]?
I’m just saying that things like this happen and sometimes it’s best to let them take their course. Of course we’ll do everything we can to help.
It’s just good to keep things in perspective.
[Editor #1]: Ok, I’m sorry, maybe I overreacted
This is all a bit much for me right now.
[Editor #2]: You’re doing great. A good Editor needs to know how to react in a crisis and you’re doing a pretty great.
I think the next thing we need to do is to get everyone together
[Editor #1]: Everyone? But the protocol says to go to one of five different safe houses.
[Editor #2]: Believe me, I know what the protocol says. I WROTE the protocol
But you already said the security was being weird.
I think there’s safety in numbers
Who have you heard from lately?
[Editor #1]: I just heard from [Pseudoname], and [Queen Alice]
I got an email from [Rating Pending], but it didn’t exactly sound like him.
I haven’t heard from [Gimgimno] or [The Detective] since that horrible phone call.
The ones I’m worried about checking in tonight are the brothers.
[Editor #2]: Do you think HFAC got attaCKed?
[Editor #1]: Are you SERIOUSLY making jokes about this?
I know that [Mico] and [Hermia] have moved over to [Laser Jock]’s lab. I think we should gather there. It seems the safest.
[Editor #2]: Why?
[Editor #1]: Because it has lasers.
[Editor #2]: Oh. Right.
[Editor #1]: I’ll send messages to [Curious Physics Minor], [The Black Sheep] and then wait to see if the brothers respond. Can you take care of the rest?
[Editor #2]: Oh, don’t worry. I’ll take care of everyone.
[Editor #1]: Alright, see you at 22:00 hours tonight
[Editor #2]: See you then
-[Editor #1] has logged off of G-mail-
--------
G-Chat
Tuesday April 13, 2010
9:21 pm
Between [Editor #1] and [Board Writer]
[Editor #1]: I just got offline with [Editor #2]. I’m sending you a copy of our conversation, [Board Writer].
Did you get it?
[Board Writer]: Ok, I just got it
. . .
Wow. The plot thickens
Are you SURE we should be doing this?
I mean, if you can’t trust [Editor #2], then who can you trust?
[Editor #1]: It’s not that I don’t trust him. I’m just covering my bases.
I don’t know what’s going to go down at that lab tonight and if something happens to me I want the information to get out
[Board Writer]: Did you look at the data logs for the security codes?
Were they tampered?
[Editor #1]: Yes I did. Someone, just last week, went through the entire system.
But I can’t tell if they were tampered or not because I’m not sure if anything’s been changed. If it has been, it’s at a level deeper than even I have access to.
All I can say for sure is that whoever did it was using a really old Board ID Code, one that hasn’t been used in years.
There are only a few people that have been around as long as [Editor #2], and none of them had the amount of access that HE had.
[Board Writer]: Could it be a former Board writer? A disgruntled former writer who is upset that the Board isn’t as perfect as it used to be in their time?
[Editor #1]: I really hope so [Board Writer]. Because if all of this is [Editor #2], then honestly, I don’t know how many of us are even going to last through the night.
I’ll send you everything else I’ve gathered.
Try to put the pieces together.
Hopefully someone will be able to understand what’s really going on.
[Board Writer]: How much longer do you think we can hold out?
[Editor #1]: At the rate things are going? No more than 100 hours.
--[Editor #1] has logged out of G-mail--
Tuesday April 13, 2010
8:36 pm
Between [Editor #1] and [Editor #2]
--
[Editor #1]: [Editor #2]? It’s me [Editor #1]. We need to talk.
[Editor #2]: Just a second
Finishing another conversation
Ok, done
First off, why are you contacting me here?
[Editor #1]: The security system on the internal messaging server is acting strangely. Everything is acting strangely.
[Editor #2]: Strangely? How so?
[Editor #1]: Are you serious?! Have you even been paying attention to what’s going on?!!
[Editor #2]: I actually don’t think we need to panic just yet
[Editor #1]: WHAT?!!
When WOULD be a good time to panic?!
When we have no writers left at all?
When they get one of US and they have access to EVERYTHING?
Have you even tried getting into the office? Or any of the tunnels?
I haven’t heard from at least five, maybe six of the writers and the protocol in emergencies is to check in every 10 hours.
[Editor #2]: I wouldn’t be too worried.
[Editor #1]: What is WRONG with you?!
Ok, that’s it
I wasn’t going to say anything
But you need to tell me what you know
[Editor #2]: I don’t follow
[Editor #1]: [Editor #2]. Tell me. What.
Do.
You.
Know about all this.
[Editor #2]: First, I know that you need to calm down.
Second, I know you’re not going to understand this, but when you’ve been around as long as I have, you see . . . phases in the writers
Sometimes we get a crop of writers that just can’t hack it
And something always just . . . happens and it’s messy and weird for a little while
But things work out. The Board will go on.
More unified than ever.
[Editor #1]: . . . .
Wait
Are YOU responsible for this?
Did you do this?
[Editor #2]: Why would you even think that, [Editor #1]?
I’m just saying that things like this happen and sometimes it’s best to let them take their course. Of course we’ll do everything we can to help.
It’s just good to keep things in perspective.
[Editor #1]: Ok, I’m sorry, maybe I overreacted
This is all a bit much for me right now.
[Editor #2]: You’re doing great. A good Editor needs to know how to react in a crisis and you’re doing a pretty great.
I think the next thing we need to do is to get everyone together
[Editor #1]: Everyone? But the protocol says to go to one of five different safe houses.
[Editor #2]: Believe me, I know what the protocol says. I WROTE the protocol
But you already said the security was being weird.
I think there’s safety in numbers
Who have you heard from lately?
[Editor #1]: I just heard from [Pseudoname], and [Queen Alice]
I got an email from [Rating Pending], but it didn’t exactly sound like him.
I haven’t heard from [Gimgimno] or [The Detective] since that horrible phone call.
The ones I’m worried about checking in tonight are the brothers.
[Editor #2]: Do you think HFAC got attaCKed?
[Editor #1]: Are you SERIOUSLY making jokes about this?
I know that [Mico] and [Hermia] have moved over to [Laser Jock]’s lab. I think we should gather there. It seems the safest.
[Editor #2]: Why?
[Editor #1]: Because it has lasers.
[Editor #2]: Oh. Right.
[Editor #1]: I’ll send messages to [Curious Physics Minor], [The Black Sheep] and then wait to see if the brothers respond. Can you take care of the rest?
[Editor #2]: Oh, don’t worry. I’ll take care of everyone.
[Editor #1]: Alright, see you at 22:00 hours tonight
[Editor #2]: See you then
-[Editor #1] has logged off of G-mail-
--------
G-Chat
Tuesday April 13, 2010
9:21 pm
Between [Editor #1] and [Board Writer]
[Editor #1]: I just got offline with [Editor #2]. I’m sending you a copy of our conversation, [Board Writer].
Did you get it?
[Board Writer]: Ok, I just got it
. . .
Wow. The plot thickens
Are you SURE we should be doing this?
I mean, if you can’t trust [Editor #2], then who can you trust?
[Editor #1]: It’s not that I don’t trust him. I’m just covering my bases.
I don’t know what’s going to go down at that lab tonight and if something happens to me I want the information to get out
[Board Writer]: Did you look at the data logs for the security codes?
Were they tampered?
[Editor #1]: Yes I did. Someone, just last week, went through the entire system.
But I can’t tell if they were tampered or not because I’m not sure if anything’s been changed. If it has been, it’s at a level deeper than even I have access to.
All I can say for sure is that whoever did it was using a really old Board ID Code, one that hasn’t been used in years.
There are only a few people that have been around as long as [Editor #2], and none of them had the amount of access that HE had.
[Board Writer]: Could it be a former Board writer? A disgruntled former writer who is upset that the Board isn’t as perfect as it used to be in their time?
[Editor #1]: I really hope so [Board Writer]. Because if all of this is [Editor #2], then honestly, I don’t know how many of us are even going to last through the night.
I’ll send you everything else I’ve gathered.
Try to put the pieces together.
Hopefully someone will be able to understand what’s really going on.
[Board Writer]: How much longer do you think we can hold out?
[Editor #1]: At the rate things are going? No more than 100 hours.
--[Editor #1] has logged out of G-mail--
POLICE BEAT APRIL 7TH TO 13TH
Disorderly Conduct:
April 8: A group of boys were arrested for swearing and kicking ducks on campus. When asked to leave, they complied.
April 10: A couple was found on the rooftop of the SWKT, singing country music. The couple was confronted by officers and informed that singing country was against the Honor Code and they stopped their tone-deaf attempts and went about their business.
Public Indecency:
April 9: A woman was fined for attending a class in leggings and a skirt that was two inches above the knee. She apologized to the class for her poor choice and said she would be "more thoughtful of the men" in the future.
April 13: A couple was found kissing on a park bench after 12:15 a.m. After being informed that the Spirit goes to bed at midnight, the couple left.
Stealing and Breaking the Sabbath
April 7: A major heist was pulled at the Candy Counter, involving, as the girl at the counter described it, "Twelve bad guys and guns!" They stole all the fudge, chocolate-covered cinnamon bears, and $25.18 ("It was a slow business day," she told investigators).
April 11: Someone went shopping at the Bookstore on a Sunday. Officers are still puzzled at how they pulled this one off.
Ongoing Investigation
April 13: Several students in Star Trek costumes have been spotted in Brigham Square, the JFSB, the Wilk, and the HBLL, hassling students and talking about assimilation. A professor from the HFAC claims that they're likely drama students, but investigations as to their identities will continue.
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
Blog Post
From the blog http://www.clearthinkeratbyu.blogspot.com
Posted Monday April 12, 2010
"Muse is my MUSE!!!
Just got back from the best concert of my life!!! I can't believe I didn't see more of you at the Muse concert in Las Vegas. Jonas and Eric and I roadtripped out Saturday morning and the drove all night, just listening to our kick-awesome Muse cds in the car and enjoying the second-hand high from the weed at the concert. Eric totally had a joint passed to him! How crazy is that?!!
Anyway, the real reason I'm posting is so that you all realize that Muse is the greatest band EVER and just because I never heard of them till last month when Jonas burned me a copy of their first album DOES NOT mean that I'm some kind of second hand fans like all you who didn't come to the concert are! Muse is up there with Lady Gaga and John Mayer as being the best band ever!!
Muse rules!!
And now some pictures! (I have about 3 dozen more on my Facebook page - there are some especially good ones of my face blurry and washed out with a practically black background that only shows a dark outline of the stage and kind of the band). Pictures prove I was there!!!
First there was just the stage. That's Jonas' head in the front.
And there were lasers!! Awesome!!
The CRAZIEST thing though happened when we were driving home on Sunday morning. You know how sometimes they have hot air balloons floating around Provo? Well, I could have sworn I saw a SQUARE one just as we were driving up Campus Drive. How crazy is that? It seemed pretty far away, and actually it was moving pretty fast. Actually, if I hadn't gotten this picture, I probably would have doubted I saw it (since Jonas was being a dink-wad and didn't want to stop to go back to see). I hope you feel pretty dumb, Jonas, 'cause that's a pretty much awesome picture of a floating cube. Right by BYU!! I'll bet more people would've seen it, except they were in Church (though we totally caught a 1:00pm sacrament meeting of the Asian branch, so no biggie).
Posted Monday April 12, 2010
"Muse is my MUSE!!!
Just got back from the best concert of my life!!! I can't believe I didn't see more of you at the Muse concert in Las Vegas. Jonas and Eric and I roadtripped out Saturday morning and the drove all night, just listening to our kick-awesome Muse cds in the car and enjoying the second-hand high from the weed at the concert. Eric totally had a joint passed to him! How crazy is that?!!
Anyway, the real reason I'm posting is so that you all realize that Muse is the greatest band EVER and just because I never heard of them till last month when Jonas burned me a copy of their first album DOES NOT mean that I'm some kind of second hand fans like all you who didn't come to the concert are! Muse is up there with Lady Gaga and John Mayer as being the best band ever!!
Muse rules!!
And now some pictures! (I have about 3 dozen more on my Facebook page - there are some especially good ones of my face blurry and washed out with a practically black background that only shows a dark outline of the stage and kind of the band). Pictures prove I was there!!!
First there was just the stage. That's Jonas' head in the front.
And there were lasers!! Awesome!!
The CRAZIEST thing though happened when we were driving home on Sunday morning. You know how sometimes they have hot air balloons floating around Provo? Well, I could have sworn I saw a SQUARE one just as we were driving up Campus Drive. How crazy is that? It seemed pretty far away, and actually it was moving pretty fast. Actually, if I hadn't gotten this picture, I probably would have doubted I saw it (since Jonas was being a dink-wad and didn't want to stop to go back to see). I hope you feel pretty dumb, Jonas, 'cause that's a pretty much awesome picture of a floating cube. Right by BYU!! I'll bet more people would've seen it, except they were in Church (though we totally caught a 1:00pm sacrament meeting of the Asian branch, so no biggie).
An Overheard (?) Conversation
A rather loud conversation floated above the equally loud music, through the open window, and descended upon the ears of a young couple, eagerly making out on a park bench.
Well...perhaps it reached their ears.
First voice: Dude, I appreciate that you're cooking us dinner during finals while we study and all, but will you please turn down The Beatles JUST A BIT?
Second voice: You're not studying. You're on the Board. And Facebook. And Gchat. The music stays.
Third voice: Hah!
First voice: Stalking is considered research, in fact.
Third voice: Oh really? Cute. And so typical of someone associated with the Board.
Second voice: He's got a point there. That food looks good, by the way. Need any help?
Third voice: Sure, why don't you get to work on making the sauce for the pasta?
Second voice: Sure thing.
First voice: Ack! Stupid pop-up. Stupid Tiberiius Web Security Ltd...No, I do not want to work for you, thanks...
Third voice: Tiberiius? Huh. I think one of the old webmasters used to work there, as an internship or something. Can't remember if he took the job or not, though.
Second voice: Oh, you mean [Former Webmaster]? I remember him. Whatever happened to him?
Third voice: You know...I'm not sure. After he graduation, we kinda lost touch.
Second voice: Hey, bro, since you're being so useful, why don't you Facebook stalk him?
First voice: Waaaaay ahead of ya! Ka-wink! So, it looks like he hasn't posted in a while. Months, in fact. His wall mostly has those annoying spam posts that people get when they leave on their missions, with the occasional "Hi! hOw are yoU?"
Third voice: That's weird. I wonder what he's been up to. I'll have to give him a call soon, see how he's doing...
The couple kissed on, blissfully unaware of the conversation that just took place, and in fact continued on for several more hours. They stayed on that bench until a police officer finally pointed out that the Spirit had gone to bed long ago, and they ought to take a break from each other before any scandal could possibly occur.
The time was 12:15 a.m.
Alyssa's Venting
Blog post from February 1st, 2010
11:45 p.m.
If I have to spend ANOTHER hour listening to Miley Cyrus, The Jonas Brothers, Taylor Swift or, for some odd reason, The Backstreet Boys (why, why, WHY?), I think I will literally jump off the SWKT.
Yes, you guessed it. Patricia is having another temper tantrum in her room. I don't know what this one's about, but it's getting a little ridiculous. Not like I even see her any more anyways, she's always in there, making phone calls and doing stuff online. She's getting to be even more antisocial than me.
AND I'M A MUSIC MAJOR.
The point is, I don't really care that much. I mean, I know I should be more Christlike but really, we're never going to see each other in two months when the semester's over anyway, so what's the big deal? Not like it'll matter in the "big picture."
Plus, now that I'm dating John and she isn't, I'm too busy for her anyway.
The real point is that she should probably be more concerned about my needs because I think John might propose soon and she should start thinking about throwing me a good bridal shower. I've been to those lame ones where all you do is eat candy and play games, but mine needs to be fun. She's supposed to be a super awesome person, being involved in BYUSA and all, but she's been super mean lately. Maybe someone else will have to help me when I get engaged.
Anyway, sorry to complain so much, but I had to get it off my chest. Being a music major is way more stressful than anyone realizes. You should all treat us better. ;)
Email to Former Webmaster (2008)
Tiberiius Web Security Ltd.
August 23, 2008,
Dear [Former Board Webmaster],
Congratulations on doing such a terrific job during your summer internship here at Tiberiius! All of your supervisors and co-workers have been extremely impressed with your work ethic and your web programming skills. I know it’s not something you ever discussed, but we did a little digging, and have been impressed with your independent work designing security of your own on the “100 Hour Board” website. Very innovative! My team was particularly interested in your multilayered encryption and the “adaptive anonymity protocols” you designed. Though I obviously can’t say anything officially, I know that if any positions open up, we’d be ecstatic to have you work in any area here at Tiberiius after your graduation from BYU.
I would be particularly interested in having you come and work for the department of which I am the executive administrator, Mergers and Acquisitions. I know that we never formally met during your time as an intern. You might be curious how I heard of you at all! I’ll give you the full story later, but I will say that I and group of very, very motivated associates of mine from Mergers and Acquisitions are interested in learning all about you and your work. I’d be more than happy to discuss your possible employment in my department over a casual lunch meeting tomorrow at Le Bourg. Call my secretary to schedule at your convenience or if you have another restaurant preference (but trust me the food at Le Bourg is impossible to resist!).
Regards,
Jeri Ryan
P.S. If you could bring any of the programming outlines for the writer-security protocol from the 100 Hour Board, one of our technical experts is dying to discuss the details with you.
Dear [Former Board Webmaster],
Congratulations on doing such a terrific job during your summer internship here at Tiberiius! All of your supervisors and co-workers have been extremely impressed with your work ethic and your web programming skills. I know it’s not something you ever discussed, but we did a little digging, and have been impressed with your independent work designing security of your own on the “100 Hour Board” website. Very innovative! My team was particularly interested in your multilayered encryption and the “adaptive anonymity protocols” you designed. Though I obviously can’t say anything officially, I know that if any positions open up, we’d be ecstatic to have you work in any area here at Tiberiius after your graduation from BYU.
I would be particularly interested in having you come and work for the department of which I am the executive administrator, Mergers and Acquisitions. I know that we never formally met during your time as an intern. You might be curious how I heard of you at all! I’ll give you the full story later, but I will say that I and group of very, very motivated associates of mine from Mergers and Acquisitions are interested in learning all about you and your work. I’d be more than happy to discuss your possible employment in my department over a casual lunch meeting tomorrow at Le Bourg. Call my secretary to schedule at your convenience or if you have another restaurant preference (but trust me the food at Le Bourg is impossible to resist!).
Regards,
Jeri Ryan
P.S. If you could bring any of the programming outlines for the writer-security protocol from the 100 Hour Board, one of our technical experts is dying to discuss the details with you.
Late Voicemail
Voicemail sent Tuesday, April 13, 2010
Sent 8:00 a.m.
Received 9:55 a.m.
Friend of Editor:
Hello, [Editor]? It's me, [Guyname]. Hey, I know you help with that like, 100 Hour thing...right? I remember reading one post about that Limerist guy, and I'm in the JFSB right now, and he put a poem on the board! Are you guys doing a scavenger hunt or something?
[pause, mumbling]
Sorry, my shoelace was untied. Hah. Okay, so if you're doing a scavenger hunt thing, I want it to be known that I was here first! Look, I'll even read it to prove it to you -
Oh, Board! Let my clarion call
Find its way to those doomed to fall!
For it seems that your fate
Is in pitiable state
And for three there is no hope at all.
Even now, as I fight the great fight
For the freedom of wit and of light,
The Board is consumed,
Soon forever entombed
By cybernetic forces of night.
I now speak of those three once more
Who have yet to feel tendril or spore...
Though you're different in style,
Resistance is futile
And your assimilation is sure.
The Monk is the first one to go,
A mild-mannered soul meek and low.
He stands for emotion
But soon he'll have none
As the collective hive mind will grow.
The Rebel is also ensnared,
Though she travels where none else have dared;
She'll be caught by surprise
With wool over her eyes
For the Borg she is quite unprepared.
The Dark Lord is last on the list;
He also has no chance to resist.
For your capture prepare,
Or resist, if you dare;
You are warned by -
The Mad Limerist!
[pause]
Huh. You know, as far as limericks go, that one didn't really make a whole lot of sense. I think that -
[low, indistinct voice is heard]
Oh, uh, where? I really dunno. Never met the guy. I found it right here...Yep...How long? I'm not sure, I don't come up this hallway often, I just had to turn in a paper today, and -
Hey, where'd he go?
[silence]
...That was odd. Well...let me know if I get a prize or something. Gotta run!
[click]
Sent 8:00 a.m.
Received 9:55 a.m.
Friend of Editor:
Hello, [Editor]? It's me, [Guyname]. Hey, I know you help with that like, 100 Hour thing...right? I remember reading one post about that Limerist guy, and I'm in the JFSB right now, and he put a poem on the board! Are you guys doing a scavenger hunt or something?
[pause, mumbling]
Sorry, my shoelace was untied. Hah. Okay, so if you're doing a scavenger hunt thing, I want it to be known that I was here first! Look, I'll even read it to prove it to you -
Oh, Board! Let my clarion call
Find its way to those doomed to fall!
For it seems that your fate
Is in pitiable state
And for three there is no hope at all.
Even now, as I fight the great fight
For the freedom of wit and of light,
The Board is consumed,
Soon forever entombed
By cybernetic forces of night.
I now speak of those three once more
Who have yet to feel tendril or spore...
Though you're different in style,
Resistance is futile
And your assimilation is sure.
The Monk is the first one to go,
A mild-mannered soul meek and low.
He stands for emotion
But soon he'll have none
As the collective hive mind will grow.
The Rebel is also ensnared,
Though she travels where none else have dared;
She'll be caught by surprise
With wool over her eyes
For the Borg she is quite unprepared.
The Dark Lord is last on the list;
He also has no chance to resist.
For your capture prepare,
Or resist, if you dare;
You are warned by -
The Mad Limerist!
[pause]
Huh. You know, as far as limericks go, that one didn't really make a whole lot of sense. I think that -
[low, indistinct voice is heard]
Oh, uh, where? I really dunno. Never met the guy. I found it right here...Yep...How long? I'm not sure, I don't come up this hallway often, I just had to turn in a paper today, and -
Hey, where'd he go?
[silence]
...That was odd. Well...let me know if I get a prize or something. Gotta run!
[click]
Warning from the Borg
Sent Tuesday, April 13, 2010
8:30 a.m.
PREPARE TO BE ASSIMILATED:
100 HOUR BOARD:
YOUR POET FRIEND HAS BEEN ASSIMILATED AND HIS MESSAGE HAS BEEN DESTROYED. ANY WARNING AGAINST US IS USELESS FOR IT WILL DO NOTHING TO PROTECT YOU FROM ASSIMILATION INTO THE COLLECTIVE.
SURRENDER NOW. RESISTANCE IS FUTILE.
8:30 a.m.
PREPARE TO BE ASSIMILATED:
100 HOUR BOARD:
YOUR POET FRIEND HAS BEEN ASSIMILATED AND HIS MESSAGE HAS BEEN DESTROYED. ANY WARNING AGAINST US IS USELESS FOR IT WILL DO NOTHING TO PROTECT YOU FROM ASSIMILATION INTO THE COLLECTIVE.
SURRENDER NOW. RESISTANCE IS FUTILE.
Monday, April 12, 2010
Phone Call from The Detective (transcript)
Transcript
From BYU Security Camera #122-D
Location: Secure Hallway ****** Sublevel 2
Monday, April 12, 2010 9:45pm
From BYU Security Camera #122-D
Location: Secure Hallway ****** Sublevel 2
Monday, April 12, 2010 9:45pm
The Detective: . . . no, it’ll be fine. No. I know.
I’m really sorry I forgot, but I’ll just be a minute. No, I’m not going to write anything tomorrow. No not even on our date. Promise.
(laughs)
Hey, I’m here, but . . . OK, the door’s not working. Can I call you right back? Thanks.
(dialing)
Hi, it’s [The Detective]. Is [Editor] there?
Sorry for calling you at home, [Editor]. Oh, really? You want me to actually call you “Editor”? Um . . .OK.
Well, look, I just had to stop by my desk at the office to file my paperwork about that library bump-on-the-roof question and get some stuff I printed out for the question about the pumpkins. Well, I think it would take about six thousand, as long as all of the pumpkins are about a foot across. I think my last calculation was six-thousand, three hundred-something. . . . Yeah, I know. And they gave me the information over the phone, too. Pretty cool.
So yeah, I can’t get in. I tried [password] and [backup password]. No. Neither of them.
. . .
Slow down. OK, wait I need to two hands for that.
(puts phone down)
(loud crackling noise)
(picks up phone)
OK, the panel is open and I touched the wires, but nothing. . . Oh wait, it’s opening.
OK, thanks I’ll . . .
. . .
Is someone here? Hello?
(loud crash)
Whoa! No! Stop! Stop!!
(running)
--End of recording from Security Camera #122-D ---
Transcript from Security Camera #122-A
Location: Secure Stairwell ******* Sublevel 1
The Detective: (yelling). . . . and there was some green light in the mist but it wasn’t coming from . . . No, it just . . . No, I didn’t say anything to them! They said something and one of them just came at me!What do you mean you were “afraid of that”?! What are those things?! What’s going on?!
(stops running)
No. Shhhhh, be quiet for a second. . .
Ok, I don’t hear anything.
Under the library, I think. Next to the statue entrance.
Ok, I’ll meet you there. Look, I don’t know what’s going on, but if you have anything to do with this you HAVE to tell the others about . . .
Oh no.
They’re here! They were waiting! Help!! [Editor]! Oh, please help!! I don’t . . .
-- End of recording from Security Camera #122-A--
Love and Hugs
In the dark room, the only light came from the soft glow from the laptop. It illuminated the surfaces of the desk upon which the computer sat, and the dozens of books and magazines which lay open and scattered across the room haphazardly. A figure sat in front of the computer screen, typing a message slowly, methodically. So far, it read:
PREPARE TO BE ASSIMILATED:
DEAR "ROCK CLUB",
WE CANNOT ATTE
The dark figure had paused to flip through a book - Perfect Grammar for the Modern Writer. He put it down and consulted another one, which, through the dim lighting, proclaimed itself to be Proper Etiquette - Not Just for Old Ladies! After spending fifteen minutes immersing himself in the proper way to conduct himself (and consulting Social Norms for the REST OF US), the mysterious figure typed out this email:
DEAR "ROCK CLUB",
WE CANNOT ATTEND THE "ROCK CLUB MEETING" DURING THE EVENING HOURS ON "TUESDAY." EVENING. OUR HUMAN IMPERFECTIONS HAVE CAUSED US TO BECOME "ILL" AND REQUIRE TIME TO "HEAL," WHICH CONFLICTS WITH OUR PREVIOUS INTENTION OF ATTENDING "ROCK CLUB." OUR APOLOGIES WHICH ARE MOST HIGHLY SINCERE ARE EXTENDED TOWARD YOU AT THIS TIME.
HAVE "FUN" - LOVE AND HUGS,
COGNOSCENTE
He hit send, satisfied with the quality of such a perfect message.
In the corner of the room, his captive stirred with a moan. The figure stood soundlessly and walked through the shadows over to him.
"It is time for you to assimilate. It is time for you to become part of the perfection that is the Collective," he intoned expressionlessly, nudging the man on the floor with his boot.
"You may have taken the others, but you can't get me!" he cried, a feeble attempt at bravado. The man struggled against the cords at his hands and feet.
The drone stepped even closer, face utterly impassive. "You are wrong, Cognoscente. We will take you, and we will take the others. Our race is perfect. You will see."
"Aw, shut up, I heard enough of that today and I'm sick of it already."
The corner of the drone's mouth nearly twitched. "'Sick of it?' We shall see, Cognoscente. We shall see..."
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