Saturday mornings were so cool and always something to look forward to when we were kids. In the same tradition, we bring you the new Saturday morning dew-dew! Every Saturday until the end! Featuring more stuff for weirdos and less stuff for everyone else! Here's a rerun of an old promo for a future show (as soon as we can find the funding)!

"Night of the Snakehorse"

The economy was so bad in some cities, people up and left their homes. This was several cities. Some of the abandoned homes were fancy but most were in middle to low income neighborhoods.

The idea was planted in my head that I could just squat in one of these houses. The abandonment was big news and plenty of activist groups were suggesting the squat option enough to where it should have alerted mortgage lenders to lock these places down, but it the economic crisis in these cities was too big for the bureaucrats to act.

So I went for it. I told my boss to 'stick it' and that I slept with his wife and took a cheap bus through the South toward the emergency everyone was running away from.

There was no real plan, I just dropped everything and left to make what I could from it. Cause as they say, “it doesn't matter where you go, cause there you are.”

And let's face it; even the criminals have families, and when their standards are stressed enough to leave, than you can gauge the urgency of the issue.

I didn't go for a big house. I knew my limits and I played it smart. I found an older home closer to a main street with a round about for the panoramic view. One story, with a pool in the back. It seemed to make sense to me.

For my neighborhood pick, the streets were wide and there was plenty length of yard. I didn't let myself get too attached because I was just biding my time here and the yards needed some maintenance.

This set me more at ease since it was obvious the city wasn't worried about its image. And it was just me and my backpack full of necessities; so I could move quickly if I needed to.

When I first set foot in the house, it was perfect. The rooms were carpeted except for the kitchen, but the main room in the front took up the width of the house from front to back. The sliding doors framed the back patio pool. The kitchen was obscured by the room wall on the left and the entry way to the corridor leading to the bedrooms and bathroom was on the right.

Sunlight wasn't a problem here. The reflection of light that made its way through the sliding glass patio doors illuminated the large room enough where it wouldn't get too hot and it wouldn't get any brighter than that at high noon. The only problem was no water and no light. I'd have to get to work on that if I was going to squat there, but I thought it would be better to wait for a day to make sure I didn't draw the wrong kind of attention.

The two bedrooms were darker but I wanted to see the patio up close. I noticed the pool was empty from the front door but hadn't realized until I got closer that there was a fountain in center.

I entered through the shallow end for an even closer look to see if it was as heavy as it looked and it was.

It was wide at the base like a clam shell and it had a tower of pots stretched up from the center at almost seven feet. Towards the top of the tower branched out a nozzle head with sprinkler holes which hovered over one of the bigger pots. You could plant eight separate plants if you wanted, at the most.

I didn't want to get too distracted. Even if I'm certain that no one would show up, it would still be frightening to get caught. I would tell them that I was referred to the house by a bank. I'd have to make up a pretty good story.

And, I'd have to be sure to keep check on my surroundings.

Go check out the garage?

Go back into the house

Fat Salad Faction-announcement — Coming pronto!

Stringer Galaxy: "Port Triond"

When people say that the network would not exist we're it not for human innovation, they're right. But to make such a statement implies doubt and that the network can run itself.

This statement is also right. But the network would also not be able to run itself were it for human innovation. Humans have been working on this for some time and small steps are necessary for big change.

In the meantime, network dependency is cause by false sense of certainty. Somewhere in this area, religion is certain and so like the Cole Porter song, in the Triond lounge, anything goes.

Port Triond is the threshold into other realms and is designed for those who are weary of traveling past their level of comfort and once scarce with netizens became abuzz with activity. Stringers from everywhere descend into the port with their documents for access. Regulators send them to the right realms depending on their documents and vetting of those documents for quality.

Port access is everywhere and like any port district, it's designed for lingerers between their destinations with eateries and shops. Time is lost here as it's windowless. Large screens in sitting areas provide simulated scenes of nature for who every wants it, besides the televised entertainment in select areas aside from hand held devices. It's a climate that breeds contempt as lately there have been some opportunists who have perhaps been agitated due to this pseudo nature and the loss of time. Many of these went past lingering and have made the port their home, despite the crack down from some patrols. Already, the port began to have a reputation which was about to get worse.

Donny knew his way around the port well enough after being there for three years. His skills as a terminal tech weren't quite up to snuff when he started but then everyone was on a learning curve back then. It made for improvisation and it was probably for the best to learn what he knew in a different way.

This was made clear to him when only weeks ago, his supervisor handed him the port talismans. “Donny. We've been watching you since you've been here and you've got talent kid. Your way is now the standard here, son. You're now the gatekeeper of port Triond.”

That promotion meant he now had a team of techs and he'd be able to make the changes he'd always wanted to make. But he kept his head down and worked his way through bureaucratic obstacles with raw nerve. Sometimes he thought he might get fired for being a hot-head. But his passion and last minute improvisation got him this far.

Donny had a stay-in at the port for convenience. It wasn't any better than his analog flat but it was clear why it was modest. Comfort wasn't his focus; his focus was on the job.

As Donny was getting his coffee at a port kiosk a notif came in on his console.

“I've got minutes.” said Donny.

“We had to shut down half Unet block twelve, all thirteen and half fourteen.” said the voice.

“Why?” Donny tasted his coffee. It was perfect.

“The code was spilling over to twelve and fourteen. Not much but it was spreading from thirteen pretty fast. I couldn't ideal them fast enough to stop the spread.” said the voice.

Donny was already walking down the corridor to the administrative wing. He was aware of the sporadic code issues and while they needed to get fixed, it wasn't a big problem.

“On, tell me you didn't panic when you shut them down?”

“No sir, it seemed like the logical thing to do.” said On.

“On, keep one Unet between the infected and clean and put that clean one on idle. As soon as it's ready, get the other clean ones on-line and we can isolate block thirteen until after my meeting. That's a lot of block to take down”, responded Donny.

“I'm already on it”, said On.

(to be continued)