Mood: spacey
Topic: "Proxy Server Error" (4)
EDITORIAL NOTE: Evening past, Frodo spent considerable time and effort in the subject matter identified above, Upon completion, he was informed that he had experienced a "Proxy Server Error." To Frodo, this sounded something like Bill Clinton or Jeremiah Wright. In any event, he attempted to copy his creation, but found that his out-of-date printer refused to function without the input of a new color cartridge. Frodo then attempted to e-mail the creation to himself, allowing him to access the original once the surrogate or whatever was done making havoc. In the end, he lost everything he had written to the mysterious ethernet. This evening he will attempt to re-create his narrative and to ask someone wiser and more technically-proficient to explain to Frodo exactly what the computer geekies were trying to communicate with the phrase "proxy server error."
Frodo has a habit of opening packages, assembling parts, and ignoring instructions. This is, he feels, in response to the dangling participles and double negatives which characterize any product outline manufactured by individuals seeking some form of retribution for the final outcome of the Second World War. Upon receipt of his first telescope, Frodo also assumed that popping in a few lenses, attaching a viewing stand, and focusing on celestial objects was not really a series of daunting tasks. Wisely, he decided to test his finished product on the largest and brightest of the heavenly bodies.
The Moon may shine brightest in Kentucky, but it is hard to miss almost anywhere in Middle Earth. It did not take Frodo long to find that brightest of objects, and to bring a new level of clarity to its surface and his minds' eye. What Frodo was not prepared for however, were the ridges running all over the lunar geography. Not unlike the walls constructed along the Mexican border, Frodo found himself looking at distinct geographic subdivisions all over the face of the Man in the Moon. In a frenzy, he sought out Sam and issued instructions to contact NASA.
Sam was reluctant to act so precipitously. Sam advised Frodo to go back, to check his degrees of latitude and longitude, or whatever, and to take a second look at his discovery. Frodo took affront. Reluctantly, he did as Sam suggested, and was again peering into the lens when Sam asked if he still saw the ridges on the face of the Moon. Frodo said he did, but, he added, he also now had identified what appeared to be writing on one of the ridges.
"Writing!," exclaimed Sam. "What kind of writing, is it something you can decipher?"
"Yes," said Frodo sheepishly, "it says 'Philadelphia Gas and Electric.'"
Sam smiled and returned to the supper dishes, while Frodo raised his lens ten degrees in order to observe the Moon itself, and to avoid the "proxy server error" which had drawn him to the streetlight.
Many years later and on this evening, Frodo has a new-and-improved telescope and comparatively vast experience in his celestial avocation. Oftentimes Frodo has observed the North Star, Mars, Venus, and the Constelllation Orion. Here, in the mountainous ridges above Lake Lovey, free of streetlights, Frodo is able to explore the Universe while contemplating the rate of dissolution experienced by ice in a variety of libations. As he swung his "Bushnell" into action, he was startled to find a heretofore inexplicable void in the southwestern sky, just a few degrees above the horizon. "Egad," said he, "Frodo has stumbled upon the first 'black hole' ever observed from a mountaintop in Tennessee."
Frodo learned a long time ago that Sam is not an acceptable documentarian for his scientific discoveries. He grabbed his tall glass and took off afoot to the cabin around the bend, occupied by the recently retired professor from the university, appropriately dubbed "Doctor John."
"Forsooth," spake Frodo (Frodo has an Elizabethan tendency that exhibits itself as the ice melts), "Doctor John, come quickly, for Frodo has discovered something so magnificent in his telescope that considerable care will have to be given to an appropriate cognomen for that which he has just discovered."
"Oh," queried Doctor John, "and what is it that thou hadst brought forth from the unknown to share with all mankind this day, friend Frodo?"
"A black hole."
"A black hole say you," he marveled, "as in one of those objects through which gravity and light itself are unable to penetrate; where there is no intellectual life, not even any distinguishable microbic activity?"
"Aye, a black hole."
The conspirators raced back in Doctor John's personal golf cart (used in place of a motorcar whenever there is ice melting in any tall glass). Doctor John placed his eyeball upon the lens, twisting it slightly to sharpen his view of the void. Frodo danced from foot-to-foot as the academic "Hmmmed" and "Ahummed" for countless moments of examination. Finally, he looked up, and spaked, er, spoke.
"Frodo, my friend, you have, as best I can determine this evening, documented your rather persistent assertion about an actual location in which there is no intelligent life."
"What? What do you mean my 'persistent assertion'? I've never seen anything like this before, and neither has anyone else around here."
"Frodo, you are on a high point, focused due south southwest, and you have an unobstructed view of the Great State of Texas."
"Texas?"
"Yes, the place you say harbors only those who absorb all light, and who produce nothing of value. Actually, it is quite remarkable that you were able to view with such clarity that which emits very little worth noting."
"So my 'black hole' is Texas?"
"That would be my conclusion, yes."
"And you agree that Texas actually resembles a 'black hole'?"
"Oh indeed, and might I trouble you for an addition to our continuing analysis of ice dissolution?"
In his haste, Frodo accidentally spilled ice all over the deck. "Well," he said, "at least I have solved my original conundrum this evening."
"Pardon?" said Doctor John.
"I just committed a 'Proxy Server Error'."