The Internet is a Playground Page 22
Date: Thursday 28 January 2010 10:38 a.m.
To: Thomas
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Speech
Dear Thomas,
I appreciate how important this speech is to you. It is entirely possible that in ten or twenty years these young students may be running their own corporation that requires design services and think to themselves, “Who was that man that came to our school and talked about his car, Discovery Channel, and his rooftop for four hours? The one with the large head. I should give him a call, because I need a business card designed.”
I have, therefore, revised the speech accordingly to target this younger demographic. Let me know of any changes required:
Hello boys and girls. (Wave. With both hands so those at the back can see you.)
My name is Thomas, and I drove here in a motor car. Once upon a time, there was an evil wizard who tried to cast a spell on a young boy. Luckily, the young boy was able to defeat the evil wizard by doing a magical spinning dance. Without the use of bottle tops nailed to a stick. And that is what graphic design and branding is about: spinning really fast. (Demonstrate.)
And here’s a PowerPoint presentation . . .
From: Thomas
Date: Thursday 28 January 2010 11:49 a.m.
To: David Thorne
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Speech
I have to present this tomorrow morning. What the fuck is wrong with you? I will write it myself if you cant do as you are asked.
From: David Thorne
Date: Thursday 28 January 2010 12:26 p.m.
To: Thomas
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Speech
Dear Thomas,
All right, but going by the number of client proposals that have been sent out in the last six months, it has been a while since you have actually written anything. Just remember, the big letters mean you have started writing and the dots mean you have finished. The dots with tails mean you are talking, then pausing, then talking, and then pausing, again.
Regards, David
From: Thomas
Date: Thursday 28 January 2010 2:19 p.m.
To: David Thorne
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Speech
The reason no client proposals have gone out lately is due to the global financial crisis. My job is hard enough without you being a dickhead when I ask you to write one fucking opening speech. For students! How hard can that be? I have to give the speech tomorrow morning and I expect you to e-mail me something usable before then.
From: David Thorne
Date: Thursday 28 January 2010 3:46 p.m.
To: Thomas
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Speech
Dear Thomas,
Thank you for explaining that the several hours of your day spent playing online poker is a direct result of the weak U.S. dollar. I apologize for the previous drafts, which I agree, with hindsight, do not give a clear understanding of your important role. Please find attached the amended and final draft:
Good morning students.
My name is Thomas, and I have been asked to speak to you today about being a graphic designer and running a design and branding agency. I never intended to be a graphic designer. I have always wanted to work with cheese.
When I was a young boy I would make my own and go door to door selling it in the small village where I was raised. One particularly warm summer, I made enough money to buy a bicycle and started my own home cheese delivery company, taking orders via two-way radio. I painted a pair of my father’s overalls bright yellow, cutting holes to symbolize Swiss cheese, and rode throughout the village calling, “Cheese! Cheese for sale!” People would often point and say, “There’s that kid on the bicycle who makes his own cheese. Look at the size of his head.” Eventually my business was shut down due to government officials not understanding the self-fermentation benefits of guinea-pig milk, but not before I learned the benefits of company branding and had raised enough capital to start my own branding company.
Unfortunately, my design director David Thorne, who has been responsible for the majority of high-profile client branding projects for the company over the last eight years, just formally tendered his resignation, effective immediately. David cited the inability of the company owner to actively seek new clients, a salary that professional bag ladies would ridicule, third-world working conditions, and beating his own high score in an office game he devised called “Staring at the wall, wondering what happy people are doing,” as his main reasons.
David thanked the staff and me for the opportunities that were provided to him during his time with the company and wished me all the best with my personal and professional endeavors. And with the speech.
And here’s a PowerPoint presentation . . .
From: Thomas
Date: Thursday 28 January 2010 4:13 p.m.
To: David Thorne
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Speech
Fine.
From: David Thorne
Date: Thursday 28 January 2010 4:26 p.m.
To: Thomas
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Speech
Fine.
Dear Jason a guide to fine art scanning
Hello, my name is Jason. I’m often asked about fine art scanning, so I have compiled this handy guide to building your own equipment. I discovered fine art scanning when I was about twelve or thirteen. Around 97 percent of people, male and female, scan fine art regularly, and it is a healthy and normal exercise. Those that do not are usually suffering mental or physical problems, so it seems strange that fine art scanning is still seen as taboo or embarrassing these days, and the term “fine art scanner” derogatory. In actuality, the term “non-fine art scanner” should be more insulting, as it hints at a mental illness. Those that are required to scan fine art should be encouraged and commended on such a socially responsible activity.
Q. Dear Jason, sometimes I scan fine art when I am at work. Is this normal, or should I see someone about it? Thanks, Chris.
A. Scanning fine art at work is completely normal, Chris. I am currently scanning fine art as I write this. My favorite place to scan fine art is in public places, such as movie theaters and playgrounds. Sometimes when I scan fine art I like to imagine I am on stage or speaking at a conference.
Q. Dear Jason, sometimes I think about firemen when I am scanning fine art. Is this normal? Rob.
A. It is perfectly normal, Rob. I often imagine I am a fireman or army man when I am scanning fine art.
Q. Dear Jason, I have heard that scanning fine art too much can cause blindness. Is this true, or did someone make that up? Cheers, Mike.
A. Hello Mike, I can honestly say there is no truth to this rumor. I regularly scan fine art thirty to forty times a day with no negative results. Once, during back-to-back episodes of Gilmore Girls, I scanned fine art one hundred and twelve times with no adverse effects.
Q. Dear Jason, I am left handed and I was wondering if this will affect my ability to scan fine art effectively. Best, Steve.
A. Being left-handed is an advantage, Steve; I myself am right-handed but use my left, leaving my mouse-hand free.
Step 1
Take one roll of Oreo cookies out of the packet.
Step 2
Cut off the end of the packet and remove the cookies.
Step 3
Roll the end of the packet over several times until you have a smooth, rounded bevel.
Step 4
Choose a photo of someone you would like to scan fine art with. Place the packet bevel over the lips and trace around the circumference.
Step 5
Cut out the area you have drawn. Remember to cut inside of the line to ensure the right size.
Step 6
Insert the packet into the hole you have just cut until the bevel is flush with the picture.
Step 7
And there you are. Your homemade fine art scanning device is comple
te.
Scott Dunning-Kruger effect poster boy
When not appearing as poster boy for the Dunning-Kruger effect, Scott divides his time between eating and “writing” on his beige blog, attempting to prove to the world that everything I write is fake.
From: Scott Redmond
Date: Friday 17 September 2010 2:11 p.m.
To: David Thorne
Subject: Fake
Davey Davey Davey. You let the ball slip on this one. Your article about George from West Virginia calling you a foggot must be fake because you are in Australia which is 13 hours and 30 minutes ahead of West Virginia. Seeing as you would use your local time in your e-mails, this would mean George would be awake and writing e-mails at 5:21 am, 8:38am, 11:48pm, and 1:32am unless you have a time machine.
Scott
From: David Thorne
Date: Friday 17 September 2010 2:44 p.m.
To: Scott Redmond
Subject: Re: Fake
Dear Scott,
Thank you for sharing the results of your time zone research. While some might describe your behavior as obsessive, I prefer to think of you as special. Like one of those children that spins until they vomit or collects Pogs. Despite having nobody to play Pogs with. Although I am currently in the U.S., rendering your blunt point less pointy, I do, coincidentally, own a time machine.
My time machine is shaped like a closet. I discovered its capabilities purely by accident one day when I climbed in, sat there for a bit, and emerged to find myself in the future. Which is almost exactly like the present except a little darker. I was expecting to see robots and flying cars, but there weren’t any. If I had a flying car, I would fly to your house and say, “Look, Scott, I have a flying car; I would love to take you for a ride, but unfortunately, your weight exceeds that of future antigravity propulsion technologies.” You would probably become irrational with envy and attempt to catch me, but due to what few leg muscles you have, atrophied from too many hours spent on the computer researching world time zones, you wouldn’t be able to jump very high, and I would hover just a few inches above your sausage-like finger flailing.
While I have not yet been successful in my attempts to travel backward in time, only forward, if I climb into the closet backward, this will probably work. I plan on traveling back to the year 2009 to see what it was like before continuing my journey back to your grade seven class and explaining to a young Scott Mintred that while his current metabolism may be able to cope with forty Twinkies per day and an exercise routine consisting of breathing and blinking, it is patently going to catch up with him later in life. I will also attempt to explain that time spent on obsessive jealousy is time that would be better spent exploring his own capabilities. I will then give him a slap.
I have attached a drawing of my time machine should you wish to build your own in order to travel back several hours to construct a better argument, or several years, to take up jogging.
Regards, David
From: Scott Redmond
Date: Friday 17 September 2010 4:27 p.m.
To: David Thorne
Subject: Re: Re: Fake
Lolcats5000. Your nonsense and lies prove nothing. I’m easily twice as intelligent as you are, I’m not fat and at least the stories on my blog are factual. Should it make for less interesting reading, then so be it. You should do some research on time travel before you make a fool of yourself. To travel through time you need to travel faster than the speed of light. A closet can’t move. If I built a time machine I’d do the world a favor and go back in time and stop your mother from reproducing.
Scott
From: David Thorne
Date: Friday 17 September 2010 5:12 p.m.
To: Scott Redmond
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Fake
Dear Scott,
Your attempt to convince my mother not to procreate would be unsuccessful, as I would simply go back a few minutes before you appeared and tell her not to listen to men wearing elastic waistband pants. I would also hide behind a tree until you showed up and give you a slap as you waddled past.
While it would be irresponsible for me to condone your obsessive behavior, I do understand it. When I was in grade three, I was obsessed with a girl named Emma Jenkins. As neither of us knew cursive, I sought to impress her by tracing several pages of script from an old manuscript and, stating that it was a love letter and I had known cursive since the age of two, presented it to her. That night, Emma’s father rang my mother with instructions that I was not to communicate with their seven-year-old daughter again. Either socially, or via letters describing her child-bearing hips and round Victorian buttocks. Another time, obsessively jealous of the fact Bradley McPherson had been selected to play the lead role in our fifth-grade school play, I constructed a plan to make him ill. Figuring this would automatically give me his role of King of the Faeiries and someone else would take over mine as tree number two, I collected several snot-laden tissues from my flu-ridden sister’s bedside table and took them to school the next day. With a thin film of the mucus covering my hands, I demonstrated to Bradley the correct procedure for shaking hands before betting him that he could not fit a whole fist in his mouth. Unfortunately, while Bradley was fine the night of the play, I was not. Unable to find a replacement for tree number two and dosed up with half a bottle of Robitussin and several flu tablets, I managed to fulfill my role of standing still with my arms held up for about ten minutes before inexplicably deciding it would be appropriate to sing “The Safety Dance,” by Men Without Hats. Luckily, Emma, dressed as a giant mushroom, broke my fall as I passed out.
Although, going by your argument, you have just e-mailed me at 2:57 a.m., meaning your e-mail must be fabricated, I accept your critical analysis of my design and have attached a modified version incorporating your technical and personal requirements.
Regards, David
From: Scott Redmond
Date: Friday 17 September 2010 5:31 p.m.
To: David Thorne
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Fake
I don’t like Wesley jackass and you really aren’t the sharpest knife in the drawer are you, if I told your mother not to reproduce you wouldn’t exist to go back and talk to her. Coup de grace.
From: David Thorne
Date: Friday 17 September 2010 5:40 p.m.
To: Scott Redmond
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Fake
Dear Scott,
If you had managed to persuade my mother not to procreate, I would not exist to send you the plans for constructing your own time machine in which to travel back in time to persuade my mother not to procreate. Apparently, this is known as a pair of ducks. I have no idea why but assume it alludes to the fact that if a duck were capable of constructing a time machine and traveling back in time to meet itself, there would be two of them. One would probably need to wear a hat or something to avoid confusion. If I did go back in time and meet myself, I would have a good look at the back of my head. If you went back in time and met yourself, you would have someone to play Pogs with.
From: Scott Redmond
Date: Friday 17 September 2010 6:12 p.m.
To: David Thorne
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Fake
I’d go back in time and punch you in the back of your head.
From: David Thorne
Date: Friday 17 September 2010 6:15 p.m.
To: Scott Redmond
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Fake
Dear Scott,
I would travel back five seconds prior to you doing so and tell myself to duck.
Regards, David
From: Scott Redmond
Date: Friday 17 September 2010 6:27 p.m.
To: David Thorne
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Fake
I’d just go back 5 seconds before that and punch you in the back of your head before you tell the other you to duck.
From: David Thorne
Date: Friday 17 September 2010 6:34 p.m.
To: Scott Redmond
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Fake
Dear Scott,
I would travel back five seconds prior to that and tell both my other selves to duck. Perhaps that is where the term “pair of ducks” originated.
Regards, David
From: Scott Redmond
Date: Friday 17 September 2010 6:48 p.m.
To: David Thorne
Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Re: Fake
It’s paradox imbecile, not pair of ducks. For someone who thinks they are smart you are not very smart. My intellect is far superior to yours so it would be simple for me to stay one step ahead of you. Just as I always do. I’d just go back and stab you before you were born or go back to 1998 and register the name google and use some of my billions to pay for a hit on you.