Copyright (C) 1989 T. S. Bennett. All Rights Reserved. The Search for the .ARC of the Cove

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Copyright (C) 1989 T. S. Bennett. All Rights Reserved. The Search for the .ARC of the Coveted Virus I tell you, I'm fed up! I just cant catch it. My computer and I have visited every sleazy BBS bathhouse we could, bent over and downloaded the suspicious arcs, hoping for lots of TSR's. We've been to every computer shooting gallery, searched through piles of grungy disks, grabbing the most bent-up, and most shared looking programs to ram into the floppy drive. I had hoped that someone would care enough to put a "bomb" in my main memory. I've injected my system with every flu shot and every backyard trojan horse program, in hopes that the authors might be those "son of sam" types who would slip a virus right into their very anti-viral bitstream. Frequent checkups haven't shown anything out of the ordinary in my The most exciting thing that happened was two disk read errors on the same day last week. I was overjoyed, I thought we had been running a fever, but when "Read Error" flashed on the screen, I just about died! I called ahead to the Micro hospital and tried to make an appointment for my other half to get a full going through with special emphasis on getting the lumps of cholesterol pried out from between its FAT tables. They said," We're full up, due to the recent virus scare, and we're making money hand over fist with our computer-aids hospice program. It's all covered by self employment insurance you know! So, unless your modem has actually croaked from running too much Kermit, or your FAT tables have turned into pork rinds, we dont have the time." I was so tired of answering "personal ads" with my personal computer, that I said,"to hell with this safe computer sex campaign. I've got to have that real modem feel!" I wanted to be exposed to a lot more risk because of direct, (modem to modem, binary files and all that) contact. I thought I should get "professional" help by joining one of those nationwide franchised BBSer networks. I'd had enough of this local "massage-parlor-mentality". The "Global" net allowed more room for expansion, and less chance for tracing the source of my hypothetical infection, and that was great, cause when I was worn out from booting it myself, I had a friend boot it for me by phone, long- distance! I looked at it like a kind of health club, where I could go to get my files pumped up. Well, got to go now, I hear my data line ringing, I'm going to monitor the screen, it could be that long awaited call giving my computer an incurable disease, and making me "somebody".


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