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It Happened to Me

My notes from Cory Doctorow’s reading last night

Here are my notes from Cory Doctorow’s reading last night. I entered

the notes straight into my PowerBook in point form and fleshed them out

with a little sentence format and HTML last night.


The Reading

I arrived about ten minutes into Cory’s session, during a reading of what I later found out was Human Readable. Every seat in the Merril room was full; many were occupied by what The Onion

might term “high-profile Area Nerds”. Sci-fi authors Mike Skeet and

Karl Schroeder took their places near the back of the audience, while

closer to the front were Ian Goldberg (who has forgotten more about

computer security than I will ever learn) and his wife Kat. As the

reading went on, a guy sitting down in front of me drew an

impressionistic sketch into a handmade blank book. Everyone’s attention

was focused on Cory, who sat at a desk beside a large bottle of water,

looking trim (Atkins and a busy schedule will do that) in a two-tone

Blogger T-shirt. You never forget your first blogging tool.

My

timing was perfect. As soon I’d settled in and opened my laptop on top

of a low filing cabinet just behind the audience, Cory was hitting a

part of the story where two characters were conversing. One of the

characters quipped “When life gives you SARS, make sarsaparilla,” which

he took from a title of my older blog entries. As he read that line,

Cory threw me a “how do you like them apples?” glance. I must have been

beaming with pride. Later, at dinner, he would say “I only steal from

the best.” I’m honoured.

(This is the second time that my

something in my blog has served as fodder for one of Cory’s stories.

The first was the entry in which I had answer twelve essay questions

about general computer science and culture before this local company

would even grant me an interview.)

The story Cory read was my

kind of science-fiction: a hip mix of cultural references (Ethiopian

restaurants in Adams-Morgan, Star Wars, personal shoppers), mixed with

extrapolations of today’s ideas (copyright reform, Eric Bonabeau’s

ant-trails) and spiked with those little moments of human drama that

give you sense of deja vu.

On Toronto, America and Europe

  • Cory loves Accordion City! His upcoming novel, Someone Comes to Town, Someone Leaves Town is a love letter to Toronto.
  • Cory

    also loves America. He says its simultabeous best and worst quality is

    that the only industrialized country where ambition isn’t frowned upon.

    When he and I had dinner last week, he told me he suspected that

    subconsciously, the Americans realize that the Indians also have this

    ambitiousness, and it worries them.

  • In Eurpose, he says, it’s

    different. In the “Ambition vs. Commonweal”, the Euros tend to favour

    the latter. He then relates this idea in the form of a joke:

    • If

      you were to end washed up Robinson Crusoe-style on the East River and

      declare to the natives that you wanted to start a media empire that

      would grow to crush Rupert Murdoch’s and in the end do the thinking for

      most people in the developed world, the natives would gladly direct you

      to nearest investment banker.

    • If you were to make the same declaration after washing up on the Thames, you’d be laughed at
    • The

      declaration that would get appreciated in Eurpoe would be that you

      wanted to start a modest little publsihing house that published quaint

      little stories that would garner a small but elite readership of the

      type of people who hung out in the pub where Tolkien and C.S. Lewis

      gave each other wedgies.

On Wikis

Cory was asked about what he though about wikis. He said he liked them, and then went into a story about wiki ecology:

  • Being

    openly editable, sometimes people with opposing opinions turn wikis

    into little battlefields where each party redacts the other’s work.

    Someone makes an entry, someone else wipes out that entry and replaces

    it with their own, that redaction gets redacted, and so on…

  • An example of the most vicious battles of this sort are the Israel/Palestine entries
  • What edventually happens is that the hardliners start out fighting, each obliterating the others’ entries
  • But eventually, each side softens a little. One side does first, and then the other.
  • Eventually, what remains is a collection of facts that both side can agree upon, or at least can concede to the other side
  • Then both sides end up in the same camp, joining to fight off the “tinfoil beanie contingent” from both sides of the argument.

Copyright and Freedom

For

those members of the audience who hadn’t been following the story, Cory
told the story of the problems with Diebold voting machines and thge

saga of their memos. He brought up the fact that Diebold makes all

kinds of machines that spit out a paper ticket as proof that a

transaction had taken palce (for example, Diebold makes ATMs). Diebold,

for some reason, won’t do this for their voting machines (“Tell us more

about this strange hu-mon ‘paper’ you use,” he said, in a mock alien

voice). He also mentioned that the EFF is suing Diebold for abusing

copyright laws: they were never meant to allow “fradulent felons to

disguise their wrongdoings”.

He also told the story of how

Diebold tried to affect the IEEE standard for voting machines by making

the specs for their machines the official spec for voting machines (and

worse still, these specs described how the machines were built, not

what they were supposed to do).

He pointed out that the general

standards bodies is the mistaken assumption that we’re all on the same

side. The IEEE is made up of a large number of engineers who by and

large want to draft standards so that they can make things that work

and interoperate well. As long as that’s the goal, standards bodies are

great things. The problem arises when a company like Diebold tries to

use the stadards body to further their own business goals at the

expense of the common good.

“It was a close one,” Cory said, but

thankfully, an EFF grassroots campaign, where the EFF managed to

convince enough IEEE members to petition to stop the Diebold-drafted

IEEE standard from being accepted, was successful. If passed, the

standard would’ve been a major coup for Diebold because standards

adopted by the IEEE tend to be adopted by the world’s engineers. Cory

said — exaggerating only mildly: “the EFF, along with the IEEE, saved global democracy!

On Ad Hocracy (or “Shut up hippie, this is our room!”)

A

guy who’d gone to high school with Cory (they both went to SEED, an

alternative school where students had a lot of input into their

curriculum) asked about Cory’s opinion of ad hocracies, especially in

light of the one he wrote about in Down and Out in the Magic Kingdom.

“At some point,” the friend said “you’re going to get some people who

aren’t ready for an ad hocracy. Maybe it’s my inner fascist…” and

went on to describe a situation in which his students, all around the

age of fifteen or sixteen cannot be trusted to govern themselves, and

sometimes a teacher needs to step in and bring order.

Cory

pointed out that the free school they went to was an ad hocracy of

sorts, and it produced a dispropotionately high number of people who

stand out and have excelled in their fields.

He then pointed out

that it’s not for everyone. Some people need more frameworks that

others. He also said “I don’t think ad hocracy is a universal panacea.

There’s a time and place for it.” However, there are times when you

need more formal structures, otherwise you get tyrannies of the

majority.

He summed up the problem with ad hocracies by telling a

story of the Anarchist’s Unconvention, which he attended fifteen years

ago. It took place at the 519 Community Centre on Chruch Street. He

remembers going to attend a meeting which had been scheduled in a

specific room, and when they entered the room, they found a guy sitting

on the table playing the flute. The flute player objected, asking the

meeting attendees “since when was ‘booking’ the room the accepted

procedure for claiming it?”. There comes a time, Cory said, when you

have to say “shut up hippie, this is our room!”

The State of the Union

Cory

admires the US for two of its finest documents: the Constitution and

the Bill of Rights (“with the notable exclusions of the Second

Amendment. For those of you who don’t know what that is, it’s the gun

one.”)

What disillusioned him about America, which he likes at

least as much as I do, is the fact that in Ashcroft’s America, people

on work visas can be secretly arrested in detained without counsel. He

told stories about getting job offers from Saudi Arabia a long time

ago; friends would advise him: “Good God, don’t go there, people on

work visas can be secretly arrested and detained without counsel!”

He

talked for a little bit about Bruce Sterling’s address at the recent

South by Southwest Interactive Festival, summarizing it. “In an oil

state, there’s no reason to pay for a civil society. You dig a big hole

and you put a fence around it. Then you put bayonets in front of the

fence to protect that hole. Then, you wait for society to collapse

around it.” The only difference between an oil state and a failed state

is that an oil state has oil.

Plans

Cory’s plans are:

  • To move to London and live and work there for at least a couple of years.
  • Work will consist of writing (3 novels on the go) as well as being the EFF’s man in Europe.
  • One

    mission: To “completely and utterly destroy the worst elements of the

    broadcast treaty” that is under discussion there right now. They’re

    trying to give creative control of works to people whose only

    contribution to the works were providing the transmission medium!

  • To

    knock out the bad parts of the Pan European Copyright act: without

    evidence, you can claim infringement, which gives your the right to

    confiscate the accused infriger’s computers for 31 days, which in turn

    will probably be used as a legal-but-wrong means of destroying your

    competition.

  • The problem with copyright acts, says Cory, is

    that when they’re often bad, and once one place adoptes them, other

    places copy them. It is, he says, “a race to the bottom”.

  • Also plans to do some work with the BBC archives, which are being opened up to the Web
  • A goal: to get 10% of Slashdot readers to buy my books.
  • A final goal: “to find what I did that made the reviewer at The Onion hate my last work”.

Categories
It Happened to Me

FGFEB

Just a Gwai Lo” Richard writes that Dive Into” Mark Pilgrim writes:

Last weekend someone told me that there was no male counterpart to female intuition.

i.e. There was no such thing as male intuition. Which is crap. Men may

not be the brightest bulbs in the bunch, but we can sense one thing:

when we are being introduced to our girlfriend’s next lover. Trust me.

I’ve been on both sides of this.

I concur. In fact, I have mentally referred to some losers as my “Future Girlfriend’s Future Ex-Boyfriend”.

On days during which I’m feeling particularly arch, I wear an US Postal

Service workshirt that used to belong to a former FGFEB. That’s right,

I stole a girl away from a guy who belongs to the world’s most

dangerous demographic.

Balls of steel, yo. I clank when I walk.

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In the News It Happened to Me

Notes from the "The Corporation" presentation, part 2

The Film and The Book

  • Bakan called himself the content maker, giving credit to Achbar and Abbott for their filmmaking skills.
  • Tried

    to make the book less driven by dry analysis and driven more by

    stories. He wanted to draw the the points he wanted to make from the

    stories, which really serve as metaphor.

  • Some of the stories in

    the book are same as in the film, some are different. The media are

    different and require different approaches.

  • Ray Anderson is

    major in the film, but not the book. Anderson had an epiphany in 1993;

    became a “sustainable business” kind of guy. “People just fall in love

    with him” on the screen. Bakan was able to say cover his story in 2 or

    3 pages in the book. In the film he’s in and out because he’s

    “incredibly compelling”, and works well in the “emotional medium” of

    film.

  • To use him in the book as often as in the film would “seem strange”.
  • Wanted to make the book not just informative, but interesting and fun to read.
  • Joked: wished he could’ve got a “push button book” in which you can hear Ray Anderson speak.

Psycopathology of the Corporation

  • Bakan did psych as an undergrad, many psychologists in the family (both parents, an uncle).
  • In Psych 101, you learn a “psychopath” (someone with antisocial personality disorder) has these qualities:
    • Pathologically self-interested
    • Incapable of concern for others
    • No feelings of guilt or remorse
    • Relationships are limited to ones in which they use other people
    • No moral obligation to obey laws or social norms
  • In Law School, you learn that:
    • Corporations are legally required to serve their own self-interest
    • Decisions had to be made to maximize the wealth of shareholders
    • Corporations are persons in the eyes of the law (something drilled into to you on the first day of Business 101)
  • The

    corporation as a person is one that has been programmed to have a

    psychopathic personality. “We created this artificial person and we’ve

    required it to be self-interested.”

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It Happened to Me

At least I’m a cute drunk

The Redhead writes about my phoning her whilst in the middle of some serious St. Patrick’s Day imbibing (from which I am suffering no ill effects).

Don’t scoff: you’ve all made drunken phone calls before. And hey, it was to the current girlfriend.

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In the News It Happened to Me

Notes from the "The Corporation" presentation, part 1

Here’s the first of my notes from last night’s session with Joel Bakan, author of The Corporation. More later today.


Innis TownHall Theatre was packed solid, even with the extra

folding chairs that had been set up. It was decided to open the

balconies which ran the length of the sides of the theatre. Eldon and I

took seats on the atrium steps to the near the front of the theatre,

just to the right of the seats.

They first showed the trailer for the movie, followed by clips. Among the clips were:

  • The

    “Bad Apples” Sequence: A rapid-fire series of jump-cuts from news

    programs in which various interviewees kept saying that the scandals of

    2002 (Enron, Worldcom, Arthur Andersen, et. cie.) were either “just a

    few bad apples” or “not just a few bad apples”.

  • Michael Moore,

    talking about the cognitive dissonance between the products we make and

    the effects they have, citing his family’s history of working on th

    elines at General Motors.

  • Ray Anderson, president of Interface,

    talking about the epiphany he had. His discovery that his business —

    carpet tiles — was not an asset to the planet and not sustainable.

    This discovery, in his own words, was “a spear through his heart”.

  • Noam

    Chomsky, complete with the finger-wagging that is his stock in trade,

    talking about the difference between the individuals in corpoations —

    very nice people — and the corporations as entities — not very nice.

  • Commodities trader Carlton Brown, who said that he could guarantee that the first thought

    running through the mind of every trader who wasn’t in the World Trade

    Center on 9/11 was “How much is gold up?”

  • Lucy Hughes, Director of Research for AdLink (VP of Initiative Media during filming) and co-conceiver of a concept called The Nag Factor,

    talking about how her book and her studies were not about helping

    parents cope with nagging, it’s to help us help kids nag more

    effectively in order to sell more children’s products. “Is it ethical?”

    she asks, with a grin. “I don’t know.”

Origin story

  • 1997 – Bakan had just published a book about Canadian Charter of Rights.
  • He

    came to the conclusion that the reasons why the Canadian Constitution

    had little or no impact on social justice was that the rights specified

    within dealt with the behaviour of the goverment towards people.

    Corporations have more power over people these days.

  • With economic globalization, corporations do more than making products. They dictate political, economic and social conditions.
  • We need to look at and think about corporations in the same way we do with governments.
  • The Corporation was originally conceived as an academic book
  • The problem with academic books: largely inaccessible, read mostly by other academics.
  • Met

    Mark Ackbar (co-directed “Manufacturing Consent”), who said “Why don’t

    I make a film about the book?” “The book doesn’t exist.” from this came

    the idea to write the book and make the film simultaneously.

The pitch

  • 3.5 years to get funding for the film
  • Lots of pitches, many unsuccessful
  • Fortunately

    as a lawyer, he is trained in the art of persuading people of certain

    things (“often you have to do this for thing you tyourself don’t

    believe.”)

  • Pitching to TV people is similar to making a case in court
  • You

    can’t just walk to Sony or Miramax and say you want to make a film that

    says their institution is psycopathic. He talked to public companies.

  • Turned down by CBC
  • Bakan

    has two theories as to why they were turned down: the film idea was (a)

    too edgy (b) not edgy enough. He thinks that both were true.

  • Kept falling between the two poles of too/not controversial enough
  • VisionTV first sponsor; TVOntario also funded the film.
  • Raised $1.4M to shoot the film
  • The

    film couldn’t have been made in the US where public broadcasting is

    heavily funded by corporations. Testament to the value of public

    broadcasting and the public sphere.

  • Trying not to focus on the “bad execs”, and not just “bad corporations”, but a larger topic: the corporation as a generic entity

The “Bad Apple” Jump-Cuts in the Film

  • Mark

    Ackbar got a sattelite dish and taped news channels in the wake of the

    Enron/Worldcom scandals for source material for this sequence.

  • 80% of the pundits said it was “just a few bad apples”, 20% said the opposite.
Categories
It Happened to Me

Heard at the convenience store yesterday

Two girls in Catholic school uniforms were purchasing a two-litre

bottle of ginger ale while I was buying beggies for salad at the

convenience store at Queen and John. From their conversation, they were apparently plotting some sort of clandestine alcoholic get-together.

I get the feeling that The Passion of the Christ is a popular meme

even with teens; one of them said to the other “Dude [yes, girls these

days call each other “Dude”], if my Mom finds out that I’ve got booze,

she’s gonna beat me like Jesus!”

Scourge, scourge, scourge. Maybe the movie should’ve been called The Bashin’ of the Christ.

Either that, or they should make Jesus a new character in X-Men 3. He can heal people, alter molecular structure and he’s got a much better healing factor than Wolverine!

Categories
It Happened to Me

My most linked-to article of 2003, part 1: Blogs Save Lives!

What happened to me and the new girl (or, “The girl who cried Webmaster”)

At

least a couple of readers of this blog guessed that something was wrong

when the “Ten Cool Things About the New Girl” blog entry from last week

got yanked. They were right, but they probably had no idea how wrong

things went. I’m going to tell the story — with names changed and a

few non-essential details omitted. I’m trying to balance telling my

story with protecting people’s privacy. Hopefully, I’ve succeeded.

Then

I’m going to take a week-long holiday from this blog. I’m annoyed and

exhausted, I have a considerable load of work to take care of, and

after you’ve read what appears below, you’ll probably agree that I’ve

earned it.

The email warning

Among the cool things listed in the “Ten Cool Things About the New Girl” entry were:

  • She went to high school at the hoity-toity Trafalgar College in Montreal
  • She graduated from University of British Columbia with a degree in computer engineering
  • She worked as a webmaster at Alliance Atlantis

A

day after I posted the entry, I received an email message from someone

who claimed that everything I knew about New Girl was wrong,

specifically:

  • She did not graduate from computer science at UBC
  • She did not go to high school at Trafalgar College — she doesn’t even have her high school diploma
  • She does not work at Alliance Atlantis nor is she a Web programmer
  • There’s a long line of people who’ve been lied to or taken advantage of by her

I was shocked. In a year and a half of writing The Adventures of AccordionGuy in the 21st Century,

I’ve never received any kind of crank message related to a blog entry.

“She’s not the person she claims to be” sounds more like a line of

dialogue from a Hollywood thriller, not real life. In spite of my

incredulity, I couldn’t write it off as some kind of prank. Whoever

wrote the letter knew too many details about New Girl to just be some

random person playing a joke. Was this person telling the truth, or was

this someone with a personal vendetta against New Girl?

As luck would have it, I know someone in the Web department at Alliance Atlantis. I gave her a call.

Me: This may sound strange, but I need to know if someone works in the Web department.
Friend: That doesn’t sound so strange. What’s this person’s name?
Me: It’s {New Girl’s name}.
Friend: Never heard of her. Is she new?
Me: She’s worked there since sometime last year. She told me that she couldn’t bear to see The Two Towers because she worked late nights on the site for three weeks and just sick of the whole thing by the end.
Friend:

I’ve never heard of her. Look, let me check the company

directory…nope. There’s only person with her first name, and she’s in

Finance. Who is this person?

Who is this person, indeed.

For

the first time in a very long time, I experienced that Horrible Sinking

Feeling. Someone — either New Girl or the author of the email — was

trying to con me. Worse still was the fact that so far, the facts

favoured the stranger.

I must have read and re-read the email

at least a half-dozen times before coming to a decision. I knew that I

was too deeply involved to be objective and decided to make a sanity

check. I phoned my friend Leesh in New York. She’s a dear friend whom

I’ve known for ten years and has seen me at my best and worst. I

figured it would be best to call a friend with loads of common sense

who was far removed from the situation to be impartial and unaffected

by any fallout from the situation.

“The thing that bothers me most,” I said after I telling her the story, “is that one of them is trying to screw me over.”

“Look at it this way,” she replied, “who has more to gain from it?”

Good point.

I

decided to go ahead with my plan. I emailed my informant, whom I’ll

refer to as Whistleblower, asking if we could meet in person. It would

be one thing to make these claims in a faceless medium, but something

completely different to do so face-to-face. If that person was lying, I

figured my schmooze-fu would be good enough to spot it.

I got a

quick reply. Whistleblower was willing to meet me, and even provided a

contact phone number. This was good news and bad news: good because it

lent more credence to the possibility that Whistleblower was not

yanking my chain, bad because it meant that the claims about New Girl

were true.

Meeting Whistleblower

I arrived early at the

agreed place and stood near the entrance so as to be easily spotted.

Whistleblower, being a reader of my blog, knew what I looked like, but

I couldn’t say the same.

This is such a spy movie thing, I thought. I’d laugh if the reason for all this wasn’t so craptacular.

Ten

minutes later, Whistleblower arrived and we ordered drinks. I didn’t

know about Whistleblower, but I knew I’d need at least one.

The

story Whistleblower told me meshed with New Girl’s, but in all the

wrong ways. Whistleblower, it turned out, knew New Girl from the days

when they both lived in another city. While in that other city, New

Girl was taking courses towards getting a high school equivalency

diploma. She didn’t complete them.

Then Whistleblower followed

with a series of identity theft stories. New Girl would steal online

photos of various gothgirls and claim to be them in various chat rooms,

chatting up gothguys and in some cases convincing them to fly up to

meet her. One poor guy came incredibly close to doing so until the

person whom she was posing as managed to warn him.

Then there’s this little matter:

Whistleblower: Has she shown you photos of a niece and nephew?
Me: Yeah, I’ve seen them. Cute kids.
Whistleblower: They’re not her niece and nephew, they’re her son and daughter.
Me: (sounds of choking on Guinness)

For

an hour and a half, I listened to Whistleblower, all the while trying

to keep my calm-even-during-a-crisis demeanor despite the fact that it

felt as though icy daggers were being shoved into my heart. . I won’t

go into the details here, but New Girl left for Accordion City two

years ago, and the kids were put in the care of Children’s Services.

Whistleblower

recited a list of people whom I could contact to double-check these

claims. There seemed to be a long line of people whom New Girl had

screwed over in one way or another. In the terms of Cory Doctorow’s Down and Out in the Magic Kingdom, New Girl has serious negative whuffie.

Whistleblower

also told me that a number of friends reported seeing me and New Girl

— “Isn’t that New Girl, making out with the Accordion Guy? Does he

know?”

The accordion might have saved my bacon again.

Whistleblower

must’ve seen the look on my face — geez, I must’ve looked pathetic

just then — and decided change the topic after a pause. “So…you play

accordion, huh?”

“Yeah,” I said, “you wouldn’t believe the kinds of things it gets me into.”

At

the end of our meeting, I paid for the drinks. Whistleblower objected,

but I said “Hey — you’re a complete stranger, and still you stuck your

neck out for someone you know only through a weblog. You could’ve

stayed uninvolved, and you could’ve decided not to meet me, especially

during a snowstorm. Thanks. I owe you big time.”

Whisteblower

left and I went to use the washroom. Afterwards, as I left the bar, the

waitress stopped me — I was so unnerved that I’d forgotten my umbrella

at the table.

Pull it together, I thought to myself, there’s serious business to attend to.

Confrontation

I

arrived at the cafe where New Girl had gone to meet some mutual

friends. She greeted me with a kiss, after which I said “Could I have a

word with you…alone?”

We took a table in the quietest

spot I could find. I told her that I’d met with Whistleblower. At the

mere mention of Whistleblower’s name, her face darkened.

New Girl: Whistleblower doesn’t know a thing. Whistleblower gets the so-called “facts” from someone who has a grudge against me. That person will say anything to make me look bad. I can’t believe that you’d take the word of a stranger over your own girlfriend!
Me: Your photo album: are those pictures of your niece and nephew, or are they actually your kids?
New Girl: What kind of lies has this person been telling you?!
Me: Do you work for Alliance Atlantis?
New Girl: Of course I do! I’m a webmistress there!
Me: Not according to my friend who works there. She’s in the Web department, and has never heard of you.
New Girl: It’s a big department.
Me: Come to think of it, didn’t you say that the Two Towers

dev team was just you and some other guy? That’s a small one for such a

serious project. If it was just two people for such a big movie, I’m

sure she’d know them.
New Girl: She could not know me. Who is this person? Maybe it’s because I was a contractor and not a full-on employee.
Me: She checked the company directory. You don’t exist there. And c’mon, a contractor? Then how can you be on sick leave?

Sick leave, I thought, a perfect excuse for not having to go to a non-existent job. I’ve been played.

New Girl: I can show you proof. I’ve got pay stubs. I’ll show you tomorrow.
Me: Prove it to me now. Are you a Web programmer?
New Girl: Yes!
Me (very calmly): What’s the difference between HTTP GET and POST?
New Girl (taken aback): …uh, what?
Me: GET and POST. What’s the difference?
New Girl (looking somewhat rattled): You…You’ve got to be fucking kidding.

Her

body language changed to a more defensive stance. I leaned forward and

smiled. At this point, even after all the evidence that had been

presented to me, I still had the tiniest bit of hope that everyone was

wrong about New Girl. I needed to hear an admission — either

intentional or accidental — from New Girl herself. If I kept the

pressure on, she would either cave and admit everything or make a

mistake.

Me: I’m not kidding. C’mon, if you’re really a Web programmer, you’d know this. This is straight out of chapter one of “Web Forms for Dummies”.
New Girl: I refuse to answer this question. Such a simple question…it’s…it’s insulting!
Me:

Answer it, and you’ll shoot such a big hole in Whistleblower’s story

that I’d have to believe you. And trust me, right now, the evidence

makes you look like the liar..
New Girl: I won’t answer it! I know the answer, but you still won’t believe me if I give it to you!
Me: You know, if you accused me

of not being a programmer, I’d be dropping mad computer science on your

head. I’d be saying “Get me in front of a machine! I’ll write ‘Hello World’ in half a dozen languages!”
New Girl: But I’m not you!
Me: And you’re not a programmer. You’re a damned liar.

I guess I just dumped her,

I thought. This is not how I planned to spend Thursday night. I walked

out of the cafe. New Girl, as I expected, chased after me.

New Girl: Look! I’m upset! My head’s a mess and I can’t think technically right now! But I promise you, tomorrow I’ll get all kind of stuff from my place to prove it to you.
Me: You can wait until tomorrow to get proof? I can’t. Why not answer my question now, and save us both time and aggravation?
New Girl: Please, baby, you’ve got to believe me…
Me: I want to believe you, more than anything, but how can I? Answer the question, please. Give me a reason to believe you.
New Girl: I can’t. I’m too much of a wreck. Look — I can show you all my papers from University! I kept them all!

I decided to use a trick I’d learned from an old episode of Columbo. It was a stupid, cheesy 70’s TV detective show trick, but it was my best shot at getting to the truth.

Me: So you really did graduate from computer engineering?
New Girl: Yes I did, from UBC!
Me: And you took the Algorithms course?
New Girl: Of course!
Me: And you have all the papers you wrote?
New Girl: Yes! I kept them all, and I’ll show them to you tomorrow!

I

imagined what kind of excuse she’d have when the papers mysteriously

“disappeared” the next day. It was time to set up the pieces for

checkmate.

Me: I want to see the one we always called the “Hell Paper” at Queen’s — the mandatory fourth-year paper. You know the one, where we prove P = NP?
New Girl: I did that! I proved P = NP! I placed near the top of the class, and the professor used my paper as an example!
Me: You proved P = NP?
New Girl: Yes!
Me: Gotcha.

For those of you who never took computer science, it’s one of the Great Mysteries: no one has been able to prove whether or not P = NP (for more details, check out the best layperson-friendly explanation of P and NP that I can find on the Web.). I’d outsmarted her into lying and giving herself away, just like my childhood literary hero, Encyclopedia Brown.

I’d just broken up with either the biggest liar I’ve ever dated or the greatest computer scientist who ever lived. Somewhere, Alan Turing’s coffin was experiencing fantastic rotational torque.

It gets worse

The

next day, I decided to give New Girl’s supposed home phone number a

ring. I was beginning to get the feeling that it wasn’t actually hers.

A woman answered the phone.

“Hello,” I said, “my name is Joey deVilla…”

“The

guy with the hat and the accordion,” the voice on the other end of the

line said. “I’ve been meaning to have a word with you.”

Eek.

And

so began an even stranger conversation. The apartment wasn’t New

Girl’s, but this woman’s. The woman’s musician friends had seen me with

New Girl at Kensington Market, where I sometimes busked and performed at open mike nights.

“And there was night you were at Grafitti’s with her…”

“Last Thursday.” How is it that everyone but New Girl can provide evidence to corroborate their stories?

“So the stories about her fat cats and the noisy birds…they’re not her pets, they’re yours?”

“Right.”

She then told me about how she and New Girl met, at rehab meetings. Rehab?!

And later, since New Girl had no place to stay, she let her stay on her couch. They grew closer and became lovers. Lovers?!

And then came the story about how New Girl tried to hide her pregnancy. Pregnancy?!

Apparently

there was a third kid, born shortly before I met New Girl. The kid was

adopted a few days after its birth. A couple of weeks after having

given birth, she was flirting with me. I felt ill.

I spent that night drinking copious quantities of Irish Stout.

Enough already

“Dude,” said my old buddy George the following day, “you were saved by your blog!”

It’s

true. I posted a gushy entry about New Girl, someone saw it and came

forward to tell me the truth. Maybe the Blogger or Moveable Type people

should print up stickers and T-shirts that read BLOGS SAVE LIVES. I’d buy one.

As a programmer who used to work in the P2P world and is about to start developing software to socially connect people, I used to look at issues such as social software, trust networks, determining the truth without a trusted third party, identity and reputation in a rather abstract way, kind of like the way a non-chef watches programs on the Food Network

(“Hey, an omelette made with an ostrich egg! Wouldn’t that be neat to

cook?”). Now that I’ve experienced the real-life version of all these

concepts, I’d like to look a little more seriously into their

programmatic equivalents — might as well turn this lemon into lemonade.

As

for me, I’m unharmed and New Girl didn’t rob me. I’m really feeling

incredibly craptacular, very creeped out, and — perhaps as some kind

of defense mechanism — mildly amused at the ridiculousness of the

situation. I’m proud of the fact that somehow I managed to keep my head

mostly together during this descent into TV-movie-of-the-weekdom. I’m

also exhausted — this kind of crap is incredibly draining, even for

Mister-Play-Accordion-All-Night-Long. I’m taking a one-week vacation

from blogging to get caught up on work, sleep and life in general.

To all my real friends out there, thank you for telling me who you really are.

To New Girl, all I can say — and I mean this with all sincerity — is “seek professional help”.

To Whistleblower, I owe you a debt of gratitude. You probably saved me from a lot of misery.

And to all you ladies out there, I’m back on the market. Only those without skeletons in their closets need apply.

See you folks in a week.