by NANCY GONGLIKWANYEOHEEEEEEEH, Alternate Reality News Service Technology Writer
Tina Tartuffalo was a typical suburban teenager. She used the family’s Home Universe GeneratorTM to capture images of her parents doing “The Flying Wombat With Six Spines” using a stationary bicycle, four digitally enhanced crowbars and a grape smoothie. Then, she posted the images to her MySpaceBook page under the heading: “Stupid Parent Tricks.”
Typical teenager behaviour.
Except, 17 years, six months, five days, four hours and 27 seconds later, Tartuffalo, now a successful tattoo removal artist to the stars, was refused permission to adopt a Canadian baby. One of the Canadian embassy staff had found the old photos on his lunch break, and the embassy claimed that her family “did not create the proper atmosphere to raise a child. (And, can we get prints of those photos?)”
“I thought, after its oil economy collapsed, Canada was desperate to sell its babies to foreigners,” Tartuffalo commented. “I never imagined what I did 17 years, six months, five days, four hours and 27 seconds ago would make a difference. Bummer.”
Of course, this wouldn’t have happened if Tartuffalo had a copy of Fuggedaboudit version 2.3.
“Who wants to know?” asked Phil Gazpacho (say his name out loud – you can almost hear the beady eyes and pencil-thin moustache, can’t you?), a Professor of New Media and Toffee Pulling at the Knotatawl-Shadee University. After a moment of reflection, he went on: “Oh. Yeah. Right, right, right. Interview. Got it. Sorry. What was the question?”
According to Professor Gazpacho (“No names! NO NA – oh. Right. Sorry.”), Fuggedaboudit version 2.3 is a programme that does a Google name search, and then sends agents throughout the Internet erasing every trace of a person. “Names. Addresses. Photos. Videos. The lot,” Professor Gazpacho proudly stated.
“We don’t have a copy ourselves at the university,” Professor Gazpacho sniffed. “And, of course, when I say that we don’t have a copy, I mean that we do have a copy, but we only use it for research purposes. Yeah. We didn’t create it or nothing. No, no, no, no, no. The base code was actually written by a…Bulgarian.”
“No, no, no, no, no,” Bannon O’Schmirsky, a Bulgarian embassy official and part-time computer coder (“Ees just a hobby, really”) responded, waving a finger so close to my face I could have sworn he was picking my nose. “Bad theeng happen on Internet, why you always blame Bulgaria?”
I pointed out to him that Glupakt Zakrglja Kon, the name of the group claiming to have created the programme, meant “sucker round horse” in Bulgarian. The server on which the software is stored is in Vratza district, which is located in north-west Bulgaria. When you buy the software, you are asked to pay in Bulgarian Levs. Lines 1,277 to 1,315 of the code are an Easter egg: a poem by famous Bulgarian author Schlomo Schlovivicek. The music that plays while the programme is loading, “Mila Rodino,” is the Bulgarian national anthem.
“Is all seercomstantial,” O’Schmirsky argued.
However it was created, Fuggedaboudit version 2.3 is causing havoc on the Internet, where small patches are suddenly disappearing. For example, meerkat accountant Liminal Mulroney was feeling nostalgic for his high school days, but he couldn’t find the photos of his graduating class that he was sure he had placed on his MySpaceBook page.
“Why have you buried me deep in the article?” Mulroney stated. “Surely, my story is a more compelling hook than that Tartuffalo broa -“
Or, to use another example, Ronnie Expectorate, owner of the My First Concealed Weapon line of handguns and accessories for teenage girls, was surprised to find much of her company’s proprietary information missing. As best as she can tell, a disgruntled former employee used Fuggedaboudit version 2.3 to remove all mention of herself from the company’s servers, including payroll information, raw materials orders and photos from the company’s ChristmaKwaanzUkah party.
Expectorate said losing those photos would really hurt her business. “I agree with that Mulroney guy,” she stated. “What happened to us is the most important thing in the article, yet I’m only quoted five paragraphs from the end? What’s up with -“
Well, you get the idea.
“I’m innocent, your honour! I swear, I barely knew the gi -” Professor Gazpacho started. “Oh. Right. Interview. Sorry. Bad dream…flashback. It happens to me under pressure. The real problem with Fuggedaboudit version 2.3 is that it blasts through security firewalls like so much tissue paper. Even information that you thought was safe is at risk. As long as it is connected to the Internet. Private companies, the government – nothing is safe! Oh, Christ – I gotta talk to my broker!”
The American Pentagon rolled its eyes in a “What else could possibly go wrong?” gesture.
If Tartuffalo had had a copy of Fuggedaboudit version 2.3, she would have had no difficulty adopting that Canadian child. On the other hand, this article would no longer exist, so, uhh, yeah…