Written by Gail Farrelly
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Wednesday, 23 December 2015

image for A Rogue Computer Speaks En garde!

I don't have pointy teeth, a black cape, a bad haircut, or a see-through body. But can I be scary?

You betcha! Y'see, I'm a computer in the general reference room of a local library. A bad, bad computer. One who makes up emails and sends them to library patrons. Spooky! And fun -- to annoy, enrage, scare a lot of folks. Whatever.

Oh, you thought only humans can be scary? Get with it. This is the tech age. We machines can steal your time, your soul, your life, your peace of mind. Anything we want really.

A few days ago I spotted a fifteen-year-old bully at my station. He's annoying and cruel. This boy is known as somebody who always picks on the most vulnerable of his classmates. I took care of that meanie with a single email, "sent" from the long deceased Rocky Graziano: STOP WITH THE BULLYING OR I'LL COME BACK TO EARTH AND TAKE CARE OF YOU WITH ONE KNOCKOUT PUNCH! The kid turned pale, grabbed his books and made a dash for the library exit. I enjoyed the show! Seeing a bully get bullied. Love it, love, love it.

The next day, a pompous forty-something writer was sending out nasty emails to friends criticizing the work of a fellow author as bland and pedestrian. I tried to take her down a peg by sending her an email from F. Scott Fitzgerald: YOUR WORK STINKS WITH A CAPITAL S. WHY DONT YOU THROW IN THE TOWEL AND GET A JOB IN A BOOKSTORE, SELLING THE WORK OF FOLKS WHO, UNLIKE YOU, KNOW HOW TO WRITE. ZELDA SENDS HER REGARDS. ALSO HER SYMPATHIES TO YOU FOR BEING SUCH AN UNTALENTED WRITER.

But my target simply sighed and then shouted to the librarian, "Miss, Miss, this computer is sending me nasty messages. I think my ex-husband is behind it." LOL. She then packed up her things and left the library, muttering under her breath, "Me toil away in a bookstore? No way."

Gotta go. A 40-year-old momma's boy is headed my way. Gonna send him a message from his long-dead momma, asking why he's still not married and telling him to change his underwear and clean his apartment more often. That'll knock his socks off. Yippee!

But first, a parting word about using that computer at your local library.

En garde!

The story above is a satire or parody. It is entirely fictitious.

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