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May 4, 2016

General Apex – Shattered System

Filed under: Original Writing — Tyler @ 1:25 am

The room is dim, unclean, and musty.

Two monitors on standby rest upon a tattered wooden desk.

The light in the room comes from a red bulb next to the only door.

The door opens and the red bulb turns off.

A set of four surveillance cameras situated in each corner of the square room switch from standby to active tracking.

Each camera has three lenses, one for movement detection, one for light-oscillation analysis, and one for color sampling and focus.

The northwest and northeast cameras track a man as he enters the room. He is of small build and is wearing a large overcoat.

He removes his coat and puts it over a chair opposite to the monitors. Before sitting down, he opens a large footlocker-style refrigerator and removes two canned drinks and a tightly wrapped sandwich.

He puts the sandwich and one of the drinks down by the monitors. The remaining drink is immediately opened. Before taking a sip, he raises the beverage with a smile toward the cameras.

…to be continued…

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September 20, 2012

Unintended Recognition

Filed under: Original Writing — Tyler @ 6:54 am
What if you could hear your dog's thoughts?

What if you could hear your dog’s thoughts?

NOTE FROM EDITOR:
 
Unintended Recognition is a short science fiction story about a young man who accidentally uncovers a glitch in a new computer program. This glitch has unforeseen consequences…especially when it affects the relationship between Hank and his lovely neighbor Suzie.
 
It’s our biggest hope that you enjoy this short story. So without further ado, here’s, “Unintended Recognition” by Tyler Stansfield Jaggers.
 

Unintended Recognition

“Okay, Rex. I’ll take you for a walk in a minute.” Hank patted his Yellow Labrador on the head.

Rex followed Hank into his home office and watched him work on the computer. He rested his long snout and chin on Hank’s leg.

“Dude, Rex. Don’t drool,” Hank said. “Hey, sweet! The search engine guys finally got back to me.”

Sensing Hank’s excitement, Rex wagged his tail and knocked over an enormous basil plant.

Hank ignored the plant and read his e-mail aloud. “Thank you, Mr. Hank Dobson for your interest in joining the: Ask Fred – Voice Search Beta Test.”

Hank scratched Rex behind the ears and continued reading. “In order to receive your $500 gasoline gift card, you must send weekly error reports. They must be concise and explain how effective, Ask Fred is at giving you relevant recognized searches from your computer’s built-in microphone.”

Getting impatient, Rex whimpered and said, “Woof!”

Hank minimized his email, looked at his web browser and said, “Hmm, that’s weird.” In the search box the computer displayed: Unrecognized Search.

While scooting his desk chair closer to the microphone, Hank annunciated, “Fresh meatloaf.”

Within a fraction of a second, the Ask Fred search engine displayed a definition of meatloaf. The definition was accompanied by succulent images of greasy meatloaf covered in ketchup.

After running to the front door, Rex returned with his leash in his mouth. He dropped the leash on the floor with a thud, and said, “Woof!”

Ask Fred responded by displaying: Invalid Search…please input parameters manually.

Hank laughed and then said, “Well, Mr. Ask Fred, I’m pretty sure old Rex meant, walk.”

The search engine displayed images of people walking as well as popular hiking destinations in the Southern California area. Ask Fred displayed: Processing manual definition of sonic speech pattern.

With a metallic, “Click,” Hank attached the leash to Rex’s collar. “C’mon, Rex, let’s see if your pals are at the park.”

Before leaving the house, Hank unplugged his smart phone from its charger and put it in his pocket.

Once outside, Rex was sniffing every other bush and tree. Hank didn’t mind the lazy-paced walk. He was busy testing the Ask Fred search engine on his phone.

But when they finally got to the park, Hank saw Suzie in her short skirt and fuzzy boots. Suzie was accompanied by her small Pomeranian, “Chowzer.”

“Rex, you better not mess this up by chasing Chowzer too much, okay?” Hank said while stroking Rex’s furry neck.

Suzie waved with all her fingers moving in random intervals. “Hi Hank, how’s the basil business?”

“Actually things are going well, thanks.” Hank unintentionally used distinct and exaggerated hand gestures while speaking. Suzie’s eyes followed his hands like mosquitoes. Hank continued, “The new website is up and running and people are finally making online orders.”

Suzie extended her super-deluxe retractable leash. Chowzer used the extra room to play with Rex.

“So, can you show me your new site sometime?” Suzie asked.

Rex and Chowzer licked each others’ faces.

Hank walked slowly into Suzie’s personal space. “I got it on my phone right here.” Hank pushed a few virtual buttons and said, “Let’s use, Ask Fred to search for my site.”

But before Hank could say anything, Rex barked at the little Pomeranian, Chowzer while she ran in circles. “Woof! Woof!”

Ask Fred displayed images of dogs running and jumping.

“Hmm, that’s not right,” Hank said.

Suzie brushed her shimmering onyx hair out of her face. “You know, Hank…Chowzer really liked it when you came over for dinner last week.”

“Really?” Hank said, “Why’s that?”

“Well for starters, your fresh basil tasted great with the rigatoni pomodoro.”

Hank traced Suzie’s gentle features with his eyes. Her lips moved with uncanny pleasantness during each syllable.

After quickly looking to the side and putting a finger to his mouth, Hank said, “Wait, you didn’t feed Chowzer any red sauce pasta, did you? I read that dogs aren’t supposed to eat acidic pasta sauce like that.”

Suzie looked up at a cloudless sky. “No, Hank. I already knew that. Besides, Chowzer likes filet mignon more than pasta anyway.”

“So, you have fed her pasta.”

“Huh?” Suzie shrugged and said, “Well yeah, but with only a little butter. Hank, I was trying to say something.”

Chowzer interrupted the conversation by barking several times in succession. Immediately after the barks, Hank’s phone searched for Italian restaurant reviews in Southern California. But a half-second later, several images popped up of dogs eating steaks and stuffing their faces full of pasta noodles.

“Sorry Suzie, my phone’s acting freaky.” Hank tugged at Rex’s collar, “Say bye to, Chowzer. We gotta’ go home.”

On the way down the street, Rex barked repeatedly at the turtle in the neighbor’s yard. The, ‘Ask Fred’ search engine displayed searches in more detail: “bite that turtle” and “I’m a dog.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Hank said. He took off Rex’s leash and headed into his office.

Once inside his office, Hank picked up his ridiculously large basil plant. He paced around the room in circles. “Ok, this search engine must have figured out dog language. I mean, imagine the possible advancements in veterinary science. This is huge.”

Rex stormed into the room and chased Hank around. “No, Rex. Stop hounding me. I’m trying to think about what I’ll put into my report. This technology could be the key to unlocking dog secrets!”

While jumping in the air, Rex barked with gusto, “Woof, woof!”

Hank looked at his computer and it displayed the following search queries: “Hank is boring” and “Give me snacks now.”

Glancing back at his dog, Hank witnessed Rex rolling over in a playful pose.

After getting comfortable in his swivel desk chair, Hank began his error report. “March 14th, 2012. The, Ask Fred search engine has a serious error. For some reason, it mistakenly attempts to translate background noise…”

Once the e-mail was sent, Hank shut down his computer. He plugged his phone into the wall charger, and turned to look at his basil plant. One side had leaves that protruded out several inches. Hank wondered why it hadn’t tipped over days ago.

Sounds of office supplies clanked as Hank searched for his scissors. “Sorry, Captain Basil. But you are going to volunteer your services for a very important mission.”

With a few carefully placed snips, Hank removed a stunning piece of the plant. He then wrapped with a rubber band, and put it in a small paper bag.

The green leaves poked out of the bag, and a fresh scent filled the apartment.

“C’mon, Rex. Let’s see if Suzie will accept this as an apology for us leaving in such a huff.”

And as Hank attached his leash, Rex said, “Woof!”

Hank then knelt down, hugged his dog, and said, “Exactly.”

June 10, 2012

The Bulkhead

Filed under: Original Writing — Tyler @ 1:12 am

For I am not interested in beauty nor ornateness. Every bulkhead, every alcove of functionality shall serve a direct purpose.

Even symmetry is secondary and expendable. The design’s true beauty shall be self-evident by its versatility and power.

Empty corridors may seem superfluous and redundant. Yet the best technology utilizes an understanding of contained voids.

As the process comes closer to completion, answers will reveal themselves as nothing more than vehicles for more relevant questions.

-Tyler

 

July 12, 2011

The Relay

Filed under: Original Writing — Tyler @ 2:21 am
constellations

Constellations

It is a sad poem indeed. The one that showers dim light upon a fiery sky. The thoughts, the words, the warmth from billions of light years away, how did it get here? And why?

As I look at the night, I see not stars that are illuminated by our sun. Nay, they shine of their own light. Or do they? For isn’t their light shared between the giants in the sky? Unlike candle or bulb that radiates from a source alone, the stars burn of their own accord, and they also absorb due to their immense size and gravity.

If our small earth collects light, then so must the sun himself. And due to his undeniable size and station, he must absorb much light from others like him. For when I look into the night sky, I see light that took time to soar, time to travel.

So our sun collects light, and sends it back to us. Is it a gift? Is it a randomizing process to make each new day truly new, truly unique. With even if the same food eaten, the same paths walked, the same water drank, the same people discussed to and discussed with and discussed about…the rays are different. And different as much every time.

Like a powerful and generous king who redistributes the wealth of the land among the land, so doth the sun share the photons and cosmic rays collected from other stars upon our tiny world.

But the night is raw. Raw yet dim. The stars can only send small messages, small whispers from their cosmic relay. But to discount their effort would be like shunning a messenger who walked ninety-thousand miles to deliver a tattered note. Of course his boots have been worn to shreds. Of course his tears have been caked with sand. Of course his cloak is nothing but a collar and belt. But his message, his tiny note of a old tongue…that has value.

So not only do I accept the note, and read it. But I keep the note. I keep a thing that has such little value and little discernible significance, not because it is part of some strange and cumbersome collection.

It is kept because it has travelled far enough.

As I burn my candle late tonight. I do it so the stars have an ally, a friend of sorts. Like a dog that follows a pack of wolves, I wait to see what mountain they will stop at. What vista will catch the eye.

So I send this small note to a few, a few that are burning their candle. So perhaps they too enjoy the night. Not in an attempt to steal the joy of solitude or smother the emotions of tranquility. But to leave a frayed note, at the doorstep, at the threshold.

From one pilgrim to another.

July 12th, 2011 – 2:19AM

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