Lake Bolac: The Home of Bob the Bunyip

Daphne came running over this morning, all ebullient and giggly about some "secret" she had discovered. From her manner, I thought she was the as-yet unidentified winner of Thursday's Powerball lottery! But, she was keeping "mum" about exactly what it was. She told Paris that, if she told him, she'd have to kill him, and when Farouk ambled by and asked how she was, she snapped, 'Why do you want to know?'

When they all left, Daphne drew me aside conspiratorially: 'You know the stolen Windows code?' she asked. She showed me the news article when I said I didn't.
'I think I've found it!'
'Don't be silly. Show me! And besides, what the heck would you do with it if you had?' I wondered.
'OK, look here,' she said surreptitiously opening her laptop like a kid taking the asparagus out of his salad sandwich.

On a deep black screen, wriiten in tiny system font was her dirty little webpage:

/* Source Code Windows 2000 */
#include "win31.h"
#include "win95.h"
#include "win98.h"
#include "workst~1.h"
#include "evenmore.h"
#include "oldstuff.h"
#include "billrulz.h"
#include "monopoly.h"
#include "backdoor.h"
#define INSTALL = HARD

char make_prog_look_big(16000000);
void main()
{
while(!CRASHED)
{
display_copyright_message();
display_bill_rules_message();
do_nothing_loop();

if (first_time_installation)
{
make_100_megabyte_swapfile();
do_nothing_loop();
totally_screw_up_HPFS_file_system();
search_and_destroy_the_rest_of-OS2();
make_futile_attempt_to_damage_Linux();
disable_Netscape();
disable_RealPlayer();
disable_Lotus_Products();
hang_system();
} //if
write_something(anything);
display_copyright_message();
do_nothing_loop();
do_some_stuff();

if (still_not_crashed)
{
display_copyright_message();
do_nothing_loop();
basically_run_windows_31();
do_nothing_loop();
} // if
} //while

if (detect_cache())
disable_cache();

if (fast_cpu())
{
set_wait_states(lots);
set_mouse(speed,very_slow);
set_mouse(action,jumpy);
set_mouse(reaction,sometimes);
} //if

/* printf("Welcome to Windows 3.1"); */
/* printf("Welcome to Windows 3.11"); */
/* printf("Welcome to Windows 95"); */
/* printf("Welcome to Windows NT 3.0"); */
/* printf("Welcome to Windows 98"); */
/* printf("Welcome to Windows NT 4.0"); */
printf("Welcome to Windows 2000");

if (system_ok())
crash(to_dos_prompt)
else
system_memory = open("a:\swp0001.swp",O_CREATE);

while(something)
{
sleep(5);
get_user_input();
sleep(5);
act_on_user_input();
sleep(5);
} // while
create_general_protection_fault();

} // main

I simply don't know how to tell Daphne about things like this: she's sweet and open-minded and tolerant and accepting; she's never disingenuous, cynical or sarcastic or blunt. She takes the world as she finds it, and treats people as she herself likes to be treated. She always says "hello" to people in the street as she hops by, and gets genuinely hurt when they stare and don't answer her back. AND ALL THIS TO A FAULT!

It's almost as bad as the time her Mini Minor broke down coming back from Casterton. She was on her mobile all day to Paris and me telling us we had to get a 701 plug from Hamilton and bring it out to her, because she was so 'absolutely sure that it was the cause of the problem because it was loose' that she didn't bother checking her petrol.

No mechanic we consulted had ever heard of a 701 plug. Fortunate, then, that a passing motorist had one of those new camera phones, and sent us a picture when he finally got coverage. Paris discretely "tightened" her plug for her while I poured the ten litres of petrol into her tank!

Yeah, I know it's been a week or more since I last wrote. We've just been busy: what, with Daphne's legal dilemma, Farouk's new "friend" and Paris's pranks, it's a wonder I get time to write at all.

Last night was the first time we'd all been together for ages. Daphne had us over for a meal and then showed us these "Soundboards" she'd discovered on the net. Basically, they're collections of sound grabs from famous people, assembled for one click access on a web page. There's a page for Arnold Schwarzenegger, Michael Jackson, Judge Judy et al. There are also some great examples of prank phone conversations that have been recorded by people using the audio grabs to pretend the celebrity in question was calling someone.

Did you sense a natural segue for Paris? Wrong! Although, I've never seen that side of Daphne before! One by one she called the people on her contact list as Dr Phil or Michael Jackson or Jack Black and either offended, confused or 'pranked' them all. I just hope none of the ones who hung-up read this before they call the Federal Police!

So what happened to Paris? Well, he found the link from the "Soundboards" site to a site called "Flabber" and spent hours sitting in the other corner on his laptop, cursing the vagaries of the Dutch language until becoming almost mesmerised. He seemed to be saying something like, 'Why can't they make these bloody laptop screens bigger!'

Daphne is inconsolable. I tried showing her that amazing list (yeah, I know, another list ... but I thought it would cheer her up) of the 213 things that 'Specialist Schwarz' wasn't allowed to do while on active duty in the Balkans. I especially like No. 31: "Not allowed to let sock puppets take responsibility for any of my actions". I can never read the thing without getting an uncontrollable burst of the giggles at one stage or another.

But no, doing that was entirely counter-productive: she blurted out, '45 years ago today! Richie was the youngest and he was only 17. Big Bopper was 29 and Buddy 22. If they'd gone to the Balkans instead of Mason City, they'd be in their 60s and 70s today. Why was 'Specialist Schwarz' so lucky?'

Some types of logic just don't warrant scrutiny! Some types of scrutiny are positively dangerous!