It was around 2000 when Hitler leveled old Berlin and started building new Berlin, or Germania as he called it. But the old berliners would never call it that. the ones forced out of their homes, the ones who only one our of every four voted him into power. To them it would always be new berlin, and most of them wanted it burnt to the ground. They were not alone of course, they were only the most recent addition to the resistance. The group of mostly french and english sent to besiege germania with bombs. 'the world will have to run out of plastic explosives before this city can be completed'
'yeah,' monica said. 'we do say that. but think about it. Germania can't be built anyway. there isn't enough resources available. with the resistance here and in russia, they can't keep up. new berlin will never be build.
'never', dante echoed
monica and dante opened the door leading down the tube. they had made it to the biggest SIM-switch they'd ever seen. fifty to sixty people were all around hand off mobiles to complete strangers. the conversation was sparse and the phones changed hands quickly. monica and dante pulled their mobiles out and began trading. after trading phones for about a minutes they left the ruins with a completely new phone. this was a good sim-switch, a big simswitch. with new blood coming into the switches the s.s. will find it tough as hell to track down who was who.
no one know who started sim-switching, it was believed to have started in england where the nazi controlled big brother tracked everyone and saw everything. but where it started was unimportant. the important thing now was, monica and dante were now going home, an entirely new place to their mobiles and anyone tracking them.
'home' was a generous title. the more technical title would be, 'the place they most commonly hid' or 'the place where they kept their coolest toys'. anything they owned, they found or stole, and it was theirs until it was stolen or 'confiscated' by the s.s. monica had various items, among her favorites was a guitar, an antique iphone, and her bot, she called mimebot.
'where have you been? i've been worried.' the mime bot whined.
'oh, have you?' monica asked.
'yes, you leave for days, you never call, your signal is lost in the cloud, i can't do this.'
monica looked over at dante who had long ago programmed mimebot to ignore him completely. he couldn't understand why anyone would waste such a nice entertainment bot by making him an annoying failed mime. but monica was french, he reminded himself. and the french are weird.
'i'll always come back for you,' monica said reassuringly.
'i had big plans for us, and things to show you, things i'd made, but now.' mimebot began to get lost in a hierarchical temporal memory loop.
'but now....' monica urged him.
'i don't exists.' he said simply. 'i have no soul.'
'maybe no one has a soul,' dante chimed in, 'you're just the only one who realizes it.'
Mimebot ignored him of course. it's not that the bot couldn't hear him, dante just wasn't there.
%^%$^#^%^$#^$%#^$#^$#^$^#%^#$%^#%#$%$%$
some say hitler died, others say he simply stopped appearing in public when his body became old and frail. the truth was, hitler was too busy. he and his ideals had been spread too thin. taking great Briton and Russia turned out to be biting off more than he could chew. people still fought bitterly all over, Russia, the UK, France, even in his own country. his own citizens, they hated him. they hated what germany had become. they hated themselves for letting this happen. they hated themselves for the mountain of work it was going to take to right the wrongs and to be able to be liked by the world again. they hated entertaining the option of leaving the country altogether taking the nationalists advice of, 'if you don't like it here, leave!'
Saturday, July 14, 2007
Monday, July 2, 2007
Monte Carlo method
He sat down at the poker table just as the waitress was coming by. Luck me, he thought to himself.
"Anything to drink, sir?" she asked.
"Yeah, I'll take a whiskey neat."
"Ok, anything for you, sir." The waitress asked a Russian looking gentleman already at the table.
"No, thank you." He replied.
She left and the two men turned their attention toward the dealer. The table was Texas hold em, $100 bet minimum. Not the high roller tables, but not to shabby.
The dealer gave the Russian a 8 of clubs and the newcomer a 4 of diamonds. This wasn't going to be an interesting hand. The next cards she dealt was a 7 of diamonds for the Russian and king of hearts for the newcomer. The Russian on the small blinds folded as did the new comer.
"You staying at the Monte Carlo?" He asked the Russian.
"Yes." He replied.
"How long you in town for?" He asked
"Just for the week." He replied.
"Business or pleasure?" He asked.
The Russian sat quietly for what seemed like forever then turned to the newcomer and said slowly, "I am here, to play cards."
"Whoa, ok, sorry I asked." He said, looking toward the dealer for some support. The dealer raised her eyebrows as if she was rolling her eyes, but she was grabbing the next cards from the shoe.
Ace of hearts for the Russian, and 4 of clubs for the newcomer. She then dealt a 7 of hearts and 8 of spades. They were both in it to see the flop even though the newcomer didn't think he had it. That's not why he was there anyway.
"Here's your drink." The waitress interrupted the operation.
"Thanks," he said to her tipping her a dollar, but not taking his eyes off the Russian.
The dealer burned a card turned over a 3 or clubs, An ace of spades, and 8 of hearts. The Russian bet $25.
"Ooo, $25, you trying to buy he pot?" The new comer asked.
"No." He said.
"Well it sure looks that way, unless you got it, do you got it?"
The dealer grew agitated, the Russian clearly didn't want to talk and it was just improper to ask other players if they 'had it'.
"Well, do ya, punk?" The newcomer asked, making reference to the movie, the Taxi.
"I am here, to play cards." The Russian said again.
"Well yeah sure, but it doesn't hurt to make a little conversation." The newcomer said, sipping on his whiskey, "I mean we're only human...right? You are a human aren't you?"
"I am here, to--"
"yeah, yeah, to play cards. I know that. Tell me something I don't know."
"Sir, if you're not going to play, I'm going to have to ask you to leave," the dealer said, trying to diffuse the situation.
"No! I don't like this guy's attitude!" The newcomer said, standing up. "C'mon buddy, say something I don't know, something original."
"How's it going?" The Russian asked.
"Uhh, pretty good, you?" The newcomer answered, slightly shocked.
"Same here," the Russian replied.
They both continued to play cards for about half an hour with nothing said. The dealers changed and still, nothing was said.
"Do you drink?" The newcomer asked.
"Well I do, but only for the special few. That doesn't include you at the moment." The Russian said.
"Well, for who then?"
"That is the purpose?"
"Purpose of drinking?" The newcomer asked confused.
"That makes sense."
"No that doesn't make sense, I asked you 'Who do you drink with?'" The newcomer asked again.
"It depends on the situation. Sometimes I like wine the best, but then other times it could be beer or spirits." The Russian said, still focusing on the game.
That was the response the newcomer was looking for. He looked up at the dealer, looking confused at the current conversation, and then looked up at the security camera in the ceiling. The newcomer nodded at the camera and within minutes security personal surrounded the table.
"Cash this gentleman out," the newcomer said to the dealer, "he's coming with us."
The next few days were spent downloading the firmware from the Russians mind try to reverse engineer how he worked, and figure out who built him. The biggest problem plaguing Vegas today is bots and it's getting harder and harder to tell who they are. Sometimes casino security has to go as far as starting a fight with a customer in order to determine their humanity. The security is undercover of course and the hotel can handle the situation and compensate the poor human for being involved in an altercation. The security professional rubbed his sore eyes. 'Where is Harrison Ford when you need him?' he thought.
"Anything to drink, sir?" she asked.
"Yeah, I'll take a whiskey neat."
"Ok, anything for you, sir." The waitress asked a Russian looking gentleman already at the table.
"No, thank you." He replied.
She left and the two men turned their attention toward the dealer. The table was Texas hold em, $100 bet minimum. Not the high roller tables, but not to shabby.
The dealer gave the Russian a 8 of clubs and the newcomer a 4 of diamonds. This wasn't going to be an interesting hand. The next cards she dealt was a 7 of diamonds for the Russian and king of hearts for the newcomer. The Russian on the small blinds folded as did the new comer.
"You staying at the Monte Carlo?" He asked the Russian.
"Yes." He replied.
"How long you in town for?" He asked
"Just for the week." He replied.
"Business or pleasure?" He asked.
The Russian sat quietly for what seemed like forever then turned to the newcomer and said slowly, "I am here, to play cards."
"Whoa, ok, sorry I asked." He said, looking toward the dealer for some support. The dealer raised her eyebrows as if she was rolling her eyes, but she was grabbing the next cards from the shoe.
Ace of hearts for the Russian, and 4 of clubs for the newcomer. She then dealt a 7 of hearts and 8 of spades. They were both in it to see the flop even though the newcomer didn't think he had it. That's not why he was there anyway.
"Here's your drink." The waitress interrupted the operation.
"Thanks," he said to her tipping her a dollar, but not taking his eyes off the Russian.
The dealer burned a card turned over a 3 or clubs, An ace of spades, and 8 of hearts. The Russian bet $25.
"Ooo, $25, you trying to buy he pot?" The new comer asked.
"No." He said.
"Well it sure looks that way, unless you got it, do you got it?"
The dealer grew agitated, the Russian clearly didn't want to talk and it was just improper to ask other players if they 'had it'.
"Well, do ya, punk?" The newcomer asked, making reference to the movie, the Taxi.
"I am here, to play cards." The Russian said again.
"Well yeah sure, but it doesn't hurt to make a little conversation." The newcomer said, sipping on his whiskey, "I mean we're only human...right? You are a human aren't you?"
"I am here, to--"
"yeah, yeah, to play cards. I know that. Tell me something I don't know."
"Sir, if you're not going to play, I'm going to have to ask you to leave," the dealer said, trying to diffuse the situation.
"No! I don't like this guy's attitude!" The newcomer said, standing up. "C'mon buddy, say something I don't know, something original."
"How's it going?" The Russian asked.
"Uhh, pretty good, you?" The newcomer answered, slightly shocked.
"Same here," the Russian replied.
They both continued to play cards for about half an hour with nothing said. The dealers changed and still, nothing was said.
"Do you drink?" The newcomer asked.
"Well I do, but only for the special few. That doesn't include you at the moment." The Russian said.
"Well, for who then?"
"That is the purpose?"
"Purpose of drinking?" The newcomer asked confused.
"That makes sense."
"No that doesn't make sense, I asked you 'Who do you drink with?'" The newcomer asked again.
"It depends on the situation. Sometimes I like wine the best, but then other times it could be beer or spirits." The Russian said, still focusing on the game.
That was the response the newcomer was looking for. He looked up at the dealer, looking confused at the current conversation, and then looked up at the security camera in the ceiling. The newcomer nodded at the camera and within minutes security personal surrounded the table.
"Cash this gentleman out," the newcomer said to the dealer, "he's coming with us."
The next few days were spent downloading the firmware from the Russians mind try to reverse engineer how he worked, and figure out who built him. The biggest problem plaguing Vegas today is bots and it's getting harder and harder to tell who they are. Sometimes casino security has to go as far as starting a fight with a customer in order to determine their humanity. The security is undercover of course and the hotel can handle the situation and compensate the poor human for being involved in an altercation. The security professional rubbed his sore eyes. 'Where is Harrison Ford when you need him?' he thought.
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