Narrative



                           David Hoffman


                          October 31, 2002



   As usual I entered the building through a doorway, which was under a sign
indicating the building's name: Office Olympus.  I walked through the lobby,
and entered the Titans' elevator. The other elevator was better proportioned
for the Board members, called the Olympians, who, while being more powerful,
were much smaller than the Titans, the typical office worker. The separation
was a matter of convenience, primarily; they could have been combined, but
then either the Olympians would not be able to reach the buttons, or the Titans
would have to duck to reach them, among numerous other problems. Regardless,
after waiting in the long line caused by the morning rush, I entered a car.
   The car began its ascension. At the fifth floor it paused, and allowed
   Herme*
 *s,
who worked in the mail-room, to enter.  When he spotted me, he gave me
a sealed envelope, with my name, Prometheus, displayed prominently on the
front. I accepted it with a curt nod. Soon the car was was at the floor of my
office, and I exited.
   After entering my office, I opened the envelope. It contained a letter from
the CEO of my company, Olympus Consulting Ltd.. The CEO, Zeus, wanted
me and a co-worker, Epimetheus, to work on a project together.  The details
were sketchy, but it seemed very important. I cursed my luck at being paired
with Epimetheus; in my experience he almost always bungled things. I hoped
that would not be the case this time, and left, using the same elevator, to a
meeting with the Board of Directors.
   When I arrived, Epimetheus was already there. The Board of Directors ex-
plained our assignment: We were to aid a company in populating the planet
Earth with creatures. As well we were supposed to create an exceptional crea-
ture, humans, which would be the dominant of all others. That was a difficult
task; however, the problem was compounded by the rather limited budget of
the company, Spontaneous Creation Inc., with which we were to enjoin.  The
proposition seemed doable, but we would have to be extremely scrupulous in
the delineation of resources.
   The first clash happened when we entered the elevator together.  As we
discussed the project Epimetheus seemed to be set on working alone on creating
the creatures, and then having me review them. I objected.
   "But I'm not good at working in groups," he said. "Besides, you look like
you need a vacation; I'm almost sure those lines on your forehead were not
there last week. You must be stressed."



                                  1
^L



   While this almost caused me to have an ulcer, the idea of having a vacation
from work was compelling.  Also, if he did bungle anything, I figured that I
would have enough time to correct it. I agreed, hesitantly, and left to start
my vacation.
   When I returned to work, after a few weeks, I was relaxed, refreshed, ready
for anything - except what I was about to receive. I knocked on Epimetheus's
door, to see how the project was going.
   "Excellent! I'm already finished," he said.
   "Oh? Can I look at a copy?"
   "Well, sure, but... I already sent the recommendations to the company. It's
too late to make any changes," he replied.
   "What?!  We agreed that I would review it, first!  Let me look at a copy
anyway," I said.
   He handed me a copy, while stating that he bypassed my review, only be-
cause he wanted to make a good impression.  At first everything looked very
good.  There was a grand assortment of creatures, with numerous interesting
attributes.  The last page told a different story.  On it was the description
of the creature, man, which was supposed to be exceptional. While he did have
great intelligence compared to the other creatures, he was weak, with no ways
to protect himself from other creatures, and the sometimes harsh weather.  I
asked him about that, and he said that there had not been enough resources
left, when it was time to create man. If only he had allowed me to aid him, I
would have been able to fix it! I left the room in a hurry, and went to my own
office.
   I thought about how I could fix this error. I knew it was too late to change
the recommendation; the creatures were probably already living on Earth. From
this I decided it would probably be possible to present them with a special
gift of some sort, to make them more powerful.  I did not think of this gift,
until I went outside to smoke a cigarette.  As I lit it the fire burned my
finger.  I realized fire would have a vast array of benefits to humans,
allowing them to, among other things, keep warm, cook, and create new things,
such as pottery.
   I went aboard the next Flaming Chariot brand space-shuttle to Earth. After
I arrived I sought the humans, and found a group of them, huddling, cold, and
starving, inside a nearby cave. Using my matches, I created a fire for them. In
order to escape detection by the companies, I left quickly, and returned to my
office place.
   When I returned, the office was abuzz with reports of the fire. Apparently,
the humans had begun to thrive.  However, it also appeard that the manage-
ment did not want whomever released the fire to thrive.  Contrary to what I
expected, they were mad; fire was never supposed to be released to the humans.
Eventually, I was caught, fired, and sent to prison.



                                  2

33 responses total.

In case you don't understand You're supposed to Make fun of the MORON who wrote
that.

... and the one who posted it?

Huh?  What does that matter?
Let's just insult the text.

  It seems out of character for Prometheus (forethought) to be blindsided
  by Epimetheus's (afterthought's) error.  Shouldn't he have seen it coming?

He did.

I started to read it but it was clear it wasn't going to get to the point
very quickly, and it wasn't even interesting, so I quit.

Fuck you.  How are you even supposed to comment, if you have't read it?

I don't intend to comment, except to indicate that I found it not worth
reading further than a paragraph. 

I didn't read beyond your first clause, you fucker.
There's more to that writing than what you'd think.
I sure wi
Fuck

R. 8; would you PLEASE read it?  It starts to get better?  please?

I demand rcurl read it!

Pfft, aka 8^P

This response has been erased.

Valerie keeps mentioning that Kendra does great raspberries ...

This response has been erased.

No.  I don't think she's typing yet.  Though that might have changed in the
last few hours, I suppose.  But she has her own login.

This response has been erased.

"kendra".

This response has been erased.

(I'd thought that was it, but checked by doing   grep -i kendra /etc/passwd
to verify before posting.)

This response has been erased.

Yup; "arlo".

This response has been erased.

WOW.  rcurl is OLD.

Better than the alternative.....

I don't know about that.

What was World War Two like?

We had rationing of food and gasoline; we collected lard to turn in for
the production of bombs; we used blackout curtains, and there were wardens
that went around looking for leaking light; I made wood model airplanes in
8th grade shop for airplane spotter training. In other words, for a kid,
it was kind of exciting.

But in regard to #26 - I hope you will. 

I hope you will read the TWO PALTRY pages.  It speeds up!

forget

FAGGET

Hi RCA!

HI DAH!

Response not possible - You must register and login before posting.

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