Cluttermagnet Posted April 25, 2012 Author Share Posted April 25, 2012 (edited) Internet historian Rotful LeMaow leaned back in his chair, took a long breath, and did a quick shoulder stretch using the armrests. The stresses and tensions of his sedentary work wafted away in a long exhale. He felt well satisfied with the results of his session. He had found several new files showing some aspects of the construction of the obscure "Roadie Dirk" series. This was great stuff, these snippets he had unearthed, and they supported well his theory that the Roadie Dirk creator had actually been a roadie himself... Dirk Ristdagger cut another square of French Toast, deftly speared it with his fork, and swirled it in Maple syrup. "Mmmmmm- heavenly!" he thought to himself. Everything tasted especially good today- the toast, the coffee, the potato and eggs... Louise had looked startled when Dirk declined "the usual" and had asked instead to see the menu. Today felt... different somehow. He grinned inwardly when he realized he had forgotten to look for the Rorschach in the butter and syrup. "Look for- the Rorschach ink blot..." he silently sang to himself (to the tune of "Look for- the union label..."), and he grinned even wider. Over by the coffee pots, Louise was thinking to herself "Hmmm- maybe next week would be a good time to run a special on multiberry waffles..." Historian LeMaow had gleaned through his research that the author of the "Roadie Dirk" series had struggled with things as simple as text colors and formatting. Compositional software was still relatively primitive in those years, as voice recognition software and hardware were still in their infancy, and their use not yet widespread. Everything was mostly still inputted by keyboarding at the time. A hand tapped his right shoulder. "Take a break, Rotful, power's going down for an hour- unscheduled maintenance on the generator." LeMaow got up and moved away from the Communications Circle. Like a sigh, the faint whir of the machinery subsided, lights dimmed. A small queue of Operators was forming near the Portal. LeMaow moved to join them... Edited April 25, 2012 by Cluttermagnet Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest LilBambi Posted April 25, 2012 Share Posted April 25, 2012 Awesome! So good to be reading Dirk episodes again... Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Cluttermagnet Posted October 9, 2012 Author Share Posted October 9, 2012 (edited) Roadie Dirk's mind drifted back fifty years to his childhood, remembering miles long cross-country treks through wooded farmland and gently rolling hills. It was 1960 again, a more innocent time. He walked through a slightly marshy patch where Skunk Cabbage grew as big as Rhubarb, the forest near silent and remarkably free of undergrowth, interspersed with the occasional small, sunny clearing. He encountered the hulk of a massive overturned tree which had laid on the ground for so long that the entire trunk was completely decomposed, yet largely undisturbed. Rich, spongy, and orangy brown in color, it crumbled at the mere touch of a hand or foot, eager to return to the soil and enrich the land. This tree had no doubt fallen well before his birth, resting there perhaps two or three times his own so far short decade of life. He climbed up and over a farm fence and walked a winding gravel lane, eventually coming out on the main highway a half mile north of town. Funny, he had never much noticed that lane before, rolling by in the family car- and come to think of it, he had never actually seen any farm back in there. Just as well- he was crossing private land in his quest of cheeseburger, french fries, and strawberry milkshake at the little grill in the old pharmacy. Ten year olds do not yet have as strongly developed a sense of 'property' as adults do. Perhaps the farm house was already no longer there, also fallen into disuse. Back then it was actually worth walking three or four miles for a strawberry milkshake- they still used real ice cream and milk in them... About two decades later, he would find himself driving the other direction, north out of town, when he had to brake sharply for a group of crossing deer. He didn't see the straggler, a sixth one, who hung back, then suddenly darted out in front of him. Fortunately he was going slow by that time. His car knocked the deer off its feet- it rolled over a couple of times, but got right back up, shook itself off, and ran off to catch up with its family in the woods on the other side. Dirk's front grille did not fare as well, but the 'give' in that metalized plastic grid no doubt helped lessen the impact for the deer. Yes, we humans live lives so perpendicular to the natural order, mused Dirk. "Tied her with fences and dragged her down..." The lyrics of the old Doors song drifted up briefly, out of memory. Dirk had been poring over satellite photos of the area recently, and the ugliness of the development cut across his childhood memories like a knife. Each succeeding wave of suburban tract development was uglier than the last, with the most recent one, less than five years old, looking especially like the ugly 'ticky tacky' of Levittown, PA, lamented by Pete Seeger. No character at all, as if sculpted by robots... "They paved paradise, put up a parking lot" suggested Joanie Mitchell. Yes, we have no bananas. You truly cannot go back home. They've paved it over... Edited October 11, 2012 by Cluttermagnet Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest LilBambi Posted October 9, 2012 Share Posted October 9, 2012 Clutter and Roadie Dirk are back!!!! Yea! Great start too! Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Guest LilBambi Posted October 9, 2012 Share Posted October 9, 2012 Dirk is back and telling tales again! Have to say it again!!! Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Cluttermagnet Posted April 1, 2013 Author Share Posted April 1, 2013 I'll be back... as soon as I get this doggone time machine fixed... Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Cluttermagnet Posted April 23, 2013 Author Share Posted April 23, 2013 (edited) From the archive of 'Posts That Never Made It Onto the Net', one escapes... Roadie Dirk Ristdagger refolded his copy of the King's Nose Chronicle and scanned the headlines on page 2. He took another sip of coffee as his eyes landed on several pieces which hadn't been quite good enough to be the lead story."Bathtub Flatulence Incident Leads to Arrest of Meyerstown Man" "Chowder Rapids Man Frightened by Group of Deranged Clowns at Campsite" "Town Drunk Reports Alien Sighting- Again". Let's see- Landlady Irma Wigglesley called Meyerstown PD to complain about a tennant keeping wild animals in his apartment. It turned out that the subject was keeping no pets or wild animals, but his landlady had mistaken a case of bathtub flatulence for a flagrant violation of the tenant contract and phoned it in. The tennant unwisely answered his door fully unclad and dripping wet. An argument ensued with Meyerdstown PD Officer Malloy and the tennant was arrested for disorderly conduct, indecent exposure, impeding an official investigation, and general orneriness. The tennant was released on his own recognisance and all charges were later dropped upon payment of a 35 dollar fine. Irma had a reputation of rarely getting along with tennants, yet she needed the income and continued to take in a seemingly never ending procession of convenience store clerks. Hers was pretty much the only rooming house in the valley. "I'm not staying at this crappy bed and breakfast any more," said convenience store clerk Ajayvijay Hur, who said he was returning to his native country at week's end. Actually, Irma didn't prepare meals at all. Dirk heard through Thelma that she believed Irma secretly envied the exotic aromas of Indian sub-continent cuisine that sometimes escaped the kitchenette of the little upstairs flat. Rumor had it that there was an Indian 'Frank Sinatra' who had recorded a popular song about Sweltenham, the sleepy little American town, the gist of which was "...if you can make it there, you can make it anywhere..." Strangely, the sitar background sounded a little like the melody from "NewYork, New York"... "It's going to be another interesting week", thought Roadie Dirk, as he sighed and moved on to the next article... Next Week: "I'm not sure if I dreamed it or saw it on TV. It seemed so real at the time. I didn't know clowns could be so deranged and menacing..." Edited April 23, 2013 by Cluttermagnet 1 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Cluttermagnet Posted April 27, 2013 Author Share Posted April 27, 2013 The small crowd stood in stunned amazement... Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
abarbarian Posted April 27, 2013 Share Posted April 27, 2013 But as they say " build it an folks will come " or in this case " scrawl it and folks will read ( or the educatid ones will)" Roadie Dirk Ristdagger's mussings were slowly gathering more fans. Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
Cluttermagnet Posted November 30, 2013 Author Share Posted November 30, 2013 (edited) It was a snarky, dormy night... Dirk Ristdagger looked up from his vintage 80's futurist magazine and took a sip from his now cold coffee. Catching Louise's eye, he grinned and tilted his mug, cupping it with his free hand. She smiled and a nodded. 'Warmups' were a tangible thing when it came to Louise, probably one of the best servers Dirk had ever known. Her cheerful presence made the Lincoln Diner the welcoming place it was for all the locals. "Thanks, Louise!" Steamy warmth rose to caress his face as he sipped appreciatively. He grabbed his fork and resumed his attack on the French Toast and bacon... The futurists figured that humor would eventually be written by committees of college students in their dorm rooms, mining the internet for snippets of wit and witticism, a la Rand Paul, who had mainstreamed the idea of routine plagiarism in 2013. (*) A sort of cottage industry of unpaid or poorly paid students/Senate staffers had sprung up to replace professional comedy writing, which had been largely offshored to China by that time anyway. (*) Google "Rand Paul Admits Plagiarism" One of Dirk's many favorites was an obscure thread on a popular website's forums entitled "Please don't bump old, inactive topics" He had occasionally found himself nasally spraying coffee onto his keyboard while reading the chatter in that thread- and was tempted once or twice to plagiarise from it himself. "Such behavior is dangerous, and could create a rift in the space time continuum" "I shall obey like a Stepford wife, and with a bright smile" "OK, so it's agreed- no more bumping this thread" "This is it- it stops here" "This topic has become unstable and may self-destruct" "Remember, no bumping!!!! No. Nein. Nyet. Non..." Yes, it certainly was a bit snarky in the dorm... Next week: Dirk tries to remember where he left his glasses... Edited November 30, 2013 by Cluttermagnet 1 Quote Link to comment Share on other sites More sharing options...
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