Within the freight elevator, the old Mr. Pointe spends a day’s eternity. Through the wire mesh at the bottom of the shaft a maintenance man hovers over a dark wheel. Spinning ratchets and dull greased pulleys. In Mr. Pointe’s cab are the necessary items of faith. There are old Christmas lights tangled and burned beyond repair. A toy mouse with a rusty grin is affixed to a switchbox. The cab’s color is sky blue, lit by a single raw bulb. Outside the cage the subsequent dark shafts appear endless. Mt. Pointe has no teeth. His neck seems to have been broken once. There is a religious calendar with a painting of wise men in a desert. There are certain exact dates circled in red meticulously. A plastic rose is woven through the links of the mesh. A ripped picture of a beautiful young woman by the sea is taped to a small panel. The girl is photogenic but very shy. Long dark hair covers her eyes. A brown newspaper clipping without a headline flips down only secured by a piece of tape at the bottom now. The words are faded and gone. The story was about Mr. Pointe’s friends from long ago who won all that money. Mr. Pointe believes in luck. A buzzer blares from the top of the shaft and Mr. Pointe secures the stretching cab gate and bolts it down. As the ascent begins, Mr. Pointe yells to the floors above. He complains about their lateness. A camera blinks a blue eye from the far corner of the cab. It’s cool lens is docile and thoughtless, as the cab ascends up through the abysmal space.
X. F. Pine
Just dug this up. I started getting the sircam virus in my email way back in 2001. For people who do not know the mechanisms of the virus look here. It would copy information from the “my documents” folder on any Windows 98 os machine, and send it randomly to people within that person’s outlook address book. It would mask the file, with a corrupted name, and include this message. (Hi! How are you? This is the file with the information that you ask for See you later. Thanks).
When I pulled the corrupt document down on a mac to examine it, (Never try and do this on a PC running Windows) changed the extension to a .doc, and opened in MS Word as a unformatted text file I got the following messages within hundreds of pages of noise.
There is absolutely no pattern as these messages were sent without the owner’s knowledge and were organized and distributed by a unthinking virus. I started enjoying the complete randomness of the messages after a while. I have excerpted them, and do not know any of the owners.
1. This fragment appeared to be some kind of document about dentistry in Spanish. It was translated (loosely) by babelfish from Spanish.
ERUPTION. – It is the movement from the weaves that surround it until the buccal cavity, is vertical, begins within the bone to maxilar. It initiates – when already the crown of the tooth has formed, when it has matured the enamel and when formaciÛn of raÌz begins. It is classified: – preclÌnica ErupciÛn: it is the heave of the tooth within the bone to maxilar. – clÌnica ErupciÛn: it is the heave of the tooth in the buccal cavity. The speed of the heave depends on the resistance of the weaves that surround to the tooth, when clÌnica phase arrives at wing, no longer is it and its movement is but r·pido and returns to be slow when there is contact with the antagonist. Active ErupciÛn: heave in the clÌnica phase and does not finish when it finds the antagonist. Within the preclÌnica phase there is a heave within the bone to maxilar towards the buccal cavity, this movement finds resistance in the weaves that surround the tooth. In the clÌnica phase there is another heave that receives the name of erupciÛn activates Èste movement initiates since part of the tooth in the buccal cavity is seen until it finds his antagonistic
2. Cannot figure out what language this is. Turkish perhaps. It appears to be about photography.
B a g i a n F o t o – F o t o i l u s t r a s i y a n g t u r u n k e B a g . D e s a i n d i h a r a p k a n f o t o f i n a l y a n g s u d a h d i s e p a k a t i d e n g a n R e d p e l s e t i a p r u b r i k . S e h i n g g a t i d a k a d a p e r u b a h a n – p e r u b a h a n d i t e n g a h j a l a n . – F o t o s u a s a n a u n t u k i s i r u b r i k h e n d a k n y a b e r i m a g e s i z e m i n i m a l b e r u k u r a n 1 4 X 1 0 c m d e n g a n r e s o l u s i m i n i m a l 1 5 0 . U n t u k f o t o l e a d F O R U T , W a w a n c a r a , F O K U S , P r o f i l , h e n d a k n y a l e b i h b e s a r d a r i u k u r a n t e r s e b u t ( k i r a – k i r a m i n i m a l s e l e b a r 2 2 c m d e n g a n r e s o l u s i 2 0 0 ) . U n t u k k o l o m a t a u l o g o d a p a t m e n y e s u a i k a n ( b i s a b e r d i s k u s i t e r l e b i h d a h u l u a t a u k i r a – k i r a m i n i m a l l e b a r 5 c m d e n g a n r e s o l u s i m i n i m a l 1 5 0 ) . – F o t o u n t u k C o v e r b e r i m a g e s i z e m i n i m a l l e b a r 2 2 c m d e n g a n r e s o l u s i s e k i t a r 3 0 0 .
3. Construction Materials airlifted via helicopter?
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Within the freight elevator, the old Mr. Pointe spends a day’s eternity. Through the wire mesh at the bottom of the shaft a maintenance man hovers over a dark wheel. Spinning ratchets and dull greased pulleys. In Mr. Pointe’s cab are the necessary items of faith. There are old Christmas lights tangled and burned beyond repair. A toy mouse with a rusty grin is affixed to a switchbox. The cab’s color is sky blue, lit by a single raw bulb. Outside the cage the subsequent dark shafts appear endless. Mt. Pointe has no teeth. His neck seems to have been broken once. There is a religious calendar with a painting of wise men in a desert. There are certain exact dates circled in red meticulously. A plastic rose is woven through the links of the mesh. A ripped picture of a beautiful young woman by the sea is taped to a small panel. The girl is photogenic but very shy. Long dark hair covers her eyes. A brown newspaper clipping without a headline flips down only secured by a piece of tape at the bottom now. The words are faded and gone. The story was about Mr. Pointe’s friends from long ago who won all that money. Mr. Pointe believes in luck. A buzzer blares from the top of the shaft and Mr. Pointe secures the stretching cab gate and bolts it down. As the ascent begins, Mr. Pointe yells to the floors above. He complains about their lateness. A camera blinks a blue eye from the far corner of the cab. It’s cool lens is docile and thoughtless, as the cab ascends up through the abysmal space.
