Assignment 02, Chess Balls
Valentine Chekov. Famous Russian Internet Chess Champion. Dead at 34.
They say that I've got bigger chess balls than Val, but the truth is he had me psyched out. We'd been playing the same game for over two weeks. My record's four weeks and three days, but this game is--was different. This was the Rocky versus Ivan Drago of net chess. We started off fast, about three moves in the first hour. Then Valentine threw the brakes on. He started chatting and trying to hack my programs.
I liked him, he wasn't trying to be funny but he was hilarious. So easy to insult. I could have been a goat herder for the number of times I got his goat. What does that even mean? Anyway, he basically let me mess with him. His hack left his own programs open and I easily backhacked him and raided his personal journals. It was so easy, that I suspected they were boobytrapped or tricky fakes, but they weren't. I got him good and spent some hours ignoring my next move in order to read up on old Val Chekov. It wasn't very good writing or reading but it told a good story. It was translated from Russian to English by an online server, which I'll be happy to provide you the record of.
So I said some stuff. Made some strange chess moves and said some stuff over the chat. Then he stopped chatting. I thought it was all an act, that he had me right where he wanted me. I really didn't think I'd gotten to him that badly. I was just messing with him. I'm sorry, detective.
Sorry, Califaz, I feel this is a weak effort on my part but it's something. I'll do better, seriously, I promise. I still plan to give Assignment 01 another try too.
They say that I've got bigger chess balls than Val, but the truth is he had me psyched out. We'd been playing the same game for over two weeks. My record's four weeks and three days, but this game is--was different. This was the Rocky versus Ivan Drago of net chess. We started off fast, about three moves in the first hour. Then Valentine threw the brakes on. He started chatting and trying to hack my programs.
I liked him, he wasn't trying to be funny but he was hilarious. So easy to insult. I could have been a goat herder for the number of times I got his goat. What does that even mean? Anyway, he basically let me mess with him. His hack left his own programs open and I easily backhacked him and raided his personal journals. It was so easy, that I suspected they were boobytrapped or tricky fakes, but they weren't. I got him good and spent some hours ignoring my next move in order to read up on old Val Chekov. It wasn't very good writing or reading but it told a good story. It was translated from Russian to English by an online server, which I'll be happy to provide you the record of.
So I said some stuff. Made some strange chess moves and said some stuff over the chat. Then he stopped chatting. I thought it was all an act, that he had me right where he wanted me. I really didn't think I'd gotten to him that badly. I was just messing with him. I'm sorry, detective.
Sorry, Califaz, I feel this is a weak effort on my part but it's something. I'll do better, seriously, I promise. I still plan to give Assignment 01 another try too.
posted by McCormick at 5:01 PM
2 Comments:
I was laughing. Good shit. Remember, it's all about the practice. Bukowski said that good writing occurs like a "Good Beershit." You can't plan it. It just happens. And afterwards, you stare down into the toilet, and you're proud...
We gotta do this everyday. The writing has go to get better.
Word. Thanks. I recall once I took a photo of a beautiful green beershit, and I was ridiculed for it.
At least I now know that Bukowski would have praised me for it.
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