Дуглас Коупленд - Microserfs

Shaw did point out that now that we're off Microsoft's e-mail system, we're going to get to invent new log addresses.

I think when people invent their Net log names, they reveal more about themselves than their given names ever reveal. I'm going to have to choose my new name carefully.

I figure there must have been a time in the past, like the year 1147, when there was a frenzy of family-naming – Smith and Goodfellow and Green and stuff – not unlike the current self-naming frenzy spawned by the Net. Abe says that within 100 years, many people will have abandoned their pro-millennial names and opted for "Nettier" names. He says it'd be inspiring to see people use other letters of the keyboard in their names, like %, &, and 4J.

Susan asked me later how I ended up at Microsoft in the first place. I told her, "No big surprise: I was 22 ... it seemed like a studly thing at the time. Microsoft got what it wanted and I got what I wanted, so all's fair and no regrets."

I asked her: She said it was to get away from her parents and having to visit either of them because they were both trying to rip apart her loyalties in some nasty custody war.

"I wanted to go to a place where loyalty wasn't an issue. Ha! I wanted to not have a life because life back East sucked big time. So I made the choice to come here – we all made the choice to come here. Nobody was holding a carbine up to our temples. So us crabbing about our zero-life factors isn't up for debate, really. Yet do you remember, Dan – do you remember ever having a life? Ever? What is a life? I think I once had one – or at least dreamed of having one – and now with going to Oop!, I kind of feel like I have a hope of life again."

I said I remembered having a life, back with Jed and being a kid, and Susan said being a kid counted as life only sort of. "It's what you do after you're a kid when life counts for real."

I said, "I think I have a life now. With Karla, I mean. "

She said, "You guys really like each other, don't you?"

And I said – no, I whispered – "I love her."

I've never told anyone that yet – except Karla. It felt like I jumped off a steep cliff into deep blue water. And then I wanted to tell everybody.

More body talk: Karla believes that human beings remember everything. "All stimulation generates a memory – and these memories have to go somewhere. Our bodies are essentially diskettes," she says. "You were right."

"Lucky for me" I reply," my own memories tend to get stored in my neck and shoulder blades. My body has never felt so ... alive – I wasn't even aware I had one until you woke it up today. Life's too good."

Sometimes I think my subconscious has bad days, and I can't believe how mundane the stuff that I write into the file is. But isn't that the deal with a person's subconscious ... that it stores all the things you aren't noticing visibly?

I'm driving up Interstate 5. It is raining and I remember I have to pick up paper towels and decaffeinated coffee at

Costco.

And how did you feel about that?

Mom... Dad. ..

I'm okay. I am not being starved, or beaten, or unnecessarily frightened.

Dropshadow lettering

Granite backgrounds

Hand

Held

Game

This is the end of theAge ofAuthenticity.

OracleNeXT

Ampex ElectronicArts

Garage sale day.

It was a real "Zen-o-thon" – we decided the time had arrived to shake ourselves of all our worldly crap and become minimalists – or at least try starting from scratch again – more psychic pioneering.

"This is so 'Zenny'," Bug said happily, as some poor cretin purchased his used electric razor (ugh!) as well as his collection of Elle MacPherson merchandise.

Also for sale:

• Japan Airlines inflatable 747

• official Hulk Hogan WWF focus-free 110 signature camera

• antique Ghostbuster squeeze toys

• Nick the Greek professional gambling home board game

• Ping-Pong table

• shoe box full of squirt guns

• blenders (2)

• vegetable juicer

• dehumidifier

• unopened cans of aerosolized cheese food products

• M.C. Escher pop-up books

• far too many Dilophosaurus figurines

• huge Sony box full of collected Styrofoam packing peanuts and packing chunks from untold assorted consumer electronics

The big surprise? Everyone sold everything – everything – even the box of Styrofoam. Bug's right: We're one sick species.

And my car sold, too – in a flash, to the first person who came around to look at it. Wayne's World did wonders for the secondary market of AMC products.

Actually, the Hornet was such a bucket I was surprised it sold at all. I was worried I'd have to drive it south. Or abandon it somewhere.

Now I am virtually possessionless. Having nothing feels liberating.

National Enquirer:

"Loni's Diary Rips Burt Apart"

He threatened her with a gun in jealous rage. He locked her out of her honeymoon suite. He hid vodka in water bottles,

PLUS:Burt: "I wanted to ditch her at the altar." Exclusive interview on his tell-all book

I do not want this to be me.

Today we left for California and Karla did her first major flip-out on me. I suppose I was being insensitive, but I think she overreacted by far. In packing her Microbus, she buried all of the cassettes we were going to be using for the trip deep inside the bowels of luggage. I said, "God, how could you be so stupid!"

Then she went crazy and threw a toaster oven at me and said things like, "Don't you e v er call me stupid," and "I am not stupid," and she piled into the van and drove off. Todd was standing nearby and just shrugged and went back to bungeeing his Soloflex on top of his Supra. I had to take off in the Acura and catch up with her down by the Safeway, and we made up.

Karla said good-bye to her old geek house's cat, Lentil, named as such because that's how big its brain is. Nerds tend to have cats, not dogs. I think this is because if you have to go to Boston or to a COMDEX or something, cats can take care of themselves for a few days, and when you return, they'll probably remember you. Low maintenance.

Bug was like a little kid, all excited about our "convoy" down to California and was romanticizing the trip already, before we'd even left. The worst part was, he had his ghetto blaster on and was playing that old '70s song, "Convoy," and so the song was stuck in our heads all day.

Cars for the trip:

Me: Michael's Acura

Karla: her Microbus

Todd: his Supra

Susan and Bug: their Tauri with U-Haul trailers

Todd said that our "car architecture" for our journey is "scalable and integrated – and fully modular – just like Apple products!"

Somewhere near Olympia, Bug's car rounded a bend and it was so weird – gravity pulled me into an exit off-ramp. And then everyone else trickled in, too. Served him right for lodging the virus of that dopey song in our heads. It was like in third grade, when you ditch someone. It just happens. Humans are horrible.

Then we all felt really horrible for ditching Bug, and we went out chasing him, but we couldn't find him and I got a speeding ticket. Karma.

1-5 is a radar hell.