No Subject

sms, jonathan
Subject: high entertainment value


Even funnier if you've ever read any Hemingway, but amusing enough on
its own merits... Forwards off running with the bulls in Pamplona.
   -kjc

> > The MicroNews recently had a write-like-papa contest. The winning
> > entry is quite impressive, I thought:
> >
> > -----
> > Imitation Hemingway Contest Winner
> >
> > The Bug Count Also Rises
> >
> > by John Browne
> >
> > In the fall of that year the rains fell as usual and washed the leaves
> > of the dust and dripped from the leaves onto the ground. The shuttles
> > drove through the rainy streets and took the people to meetings, then
> > later brought them back, their tires spraying the mist into the air.
> > Many days he stood for a long time and watched the rain and the
> > shuttles and drank his double-tall mochas. With the mochas he was
> > strong.
> >
> > Hernando who worked down the hall and who was large with microbrews
> > came to him and told him that the ship day was upon them but the bugs
> > were not yet out. The bugs which were always there even when you were
> > in Cafes late at night sipping a Redhook or a double-tall mocha and
> > you thought you were safe but they were there and although Enrico kept
> > the floor swept clean and the mochas were hot the bugs were there and
> > they ate at you.
> >
> > When Hernando told him this he asked how many bugs.
> >
> > "The RAID is huge with bugs," Hernando said. "The bugs are infinite."
> >
> > "Why do you ask me? You know I cannot do this thing anymore with the
> > bugs."
> >
> > "Once you were great with the bugs," Hernando said. "No one was
> > greater," he said again. "Even Prado."
> >
> > "Prado? What of Prado? Let Prado fix the bugs."
> >
> > Hernando shrugged. "Prado is finished. He was gored by three Sev 2's in
> > Chicago. All he does now is drink herb tea and play with his
> > screensavers."
> >
> > "Herb tea?"
> >
> > "It is true, my friend." Hernando shrugged again.
> >
> > Later he went to his office and sat in the dark for a long time. Then
> > he sent e-mail to Michaels.
> >
> > Michaels came to him while he was sipping a mocha. They sat silently
> > for awhile, then he asked Michaels, "I need you to triage for me."
> >
> > Michaels looked down. "I don't do that anymore," he said.
> >
> > "This is different. The bugs are enormous. There are an infinity of
> > bugs."
> >
> > "I'm finished with that," Michaels said again. "I just want to live
> > quietly."
> >
> > "Have you heard Prado is finished? He was badly gored. Now he can only
> > drink herb tea."
> >
> > "Herb tea?" Michaels said.
> >
> > "It is true," he said sorrowfully.
> >
> > Michaels stood up. "Then I will do it, my friend," he said formally. "I
> > will do it for Prado, who was once great with the bugs. I will do it
> > for the time we filled Prado's office with bouncy balls, and for the
> > time Prado wore his nerf weapons in the marketing hall and slew all of
> > them with no fear and only a great joy at the combat. I will do it for
> > all the pizza we ate and the bottles of Coke we drank."
> >
> > Together they walked slowly back, knowing it would be good. As they
> > walked the rain dripped softly from the leaves, and the shuttles
> > carried the bodies back from the meetings.