Innovation
Tuesday
Tuesday 1/04/2003I spend the first half of the day on a train travelling between Edinburgh and London, and am thus safe from April tomfoolery. I normally campaign for something silly to appear on the site -- very dodgy for a news organisation, so has to be done with great care and no subtlety whatsoever.
Tuesday 1/04/2003
I spend the first half of the day on a train travelling between Edinburgh and London, and am thus safe from April tomfoolery. I normally campaign for something silly to appear on the site -- very dodgy for a news organisation, so has to be done with great care and no subtlety whatsoever. This year, though, the war and the general gloom conspire against such japes, and I don't have the spirit to come up with anything. And besides, I'm on a train. Which is just as well. In a small town called Sturgis, somewhere in the vast middle of the USA, seven young men called Kirk, Kyle, Carl, Dustin et al, were at work. They printed up a load of posters saying "All Your Base Are Belong To Us And You Have No Chance To Survive, Make Your Time" and stuck them around the place -- banks, the post office, stuff like that. The local plod notice this -- you have to get up pretty early in the morning to pull the wool over Sturgis' finest -- and decide that terrorists are at work. The FBI are alerted, and in a daring swoop the local plod nabbed the gang. Nobody in the force, needless to say, has ever heard of the video game from which the lines famously come, or came across the phenomenon when it was all over the shop in the press, television and radio. "This is no joking matter," said Sturgis police chief Eugene Alli, reported in the Sturgis Journal. "During a time of war and with the present concern for homeland security, terrorist acts will not be tolerated and will be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law." The lads are out on bail, and despite Chief Euge's warnings are unlikely to spend much time in Guantanamo Bay. You can insert your own joke about war crimes here, if you like. Me, I'm starting to work on April 1st, 2004: these chaps have set the standard and I won't be happy unless I spend the night of the 1st in gaol somewhere.
I spend the first half of the day on a train travelling between Edinburgh and London, and am thus safe from April tomfoolery. I normally campaign for something silly to appear on the site -- very dodgy for a news organisation, so has to be done with great care and no subtlety whatsoever. This year, though, the war and the general gloom conspire against such japes, and I don't have the spirit to come up with anything. And besides, I'm on a train. Which is just as well. In a small town called Sturgis, somewhere in the vast middle of the USA, seven young men called Kirk, Kyle, Carl, Dustin et al, were at work. They printed up a load of posters saying "All Your Base Are Belong To Us And You Have No Chance To Survive, Make Your Time" and stuck them around the place -- banks, the post office, stuff like that. The local plod notice this -- you have to get up pretty early in the morning to pull the wool over Sturgis' finest -- and decide that terrorists are at work. The FBI are alerted, and in a daring swoop the local plod nabbed the gang. Nobody in the force, needless to say, has ever heard of the video game from which the lines famously come, or came across the phenomenon when it was all over the shop in the press, television and radio. "This is no joking matter," said Sturgis police chief Eugene Alli, reported in the Sturgis Journal. "During a time of war and with the present concern for homeland security, terrorist acts will not be tolerated and will be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law." The lads are out on bail, and despite Chief Euge's warnings are unlikely to spend much time in Guantanamo Bay. You can insert your own joke about war crimes here, if you like. Me, I'm starting to work on April 1st, 2004: these chaps have set the standard and I won't be happy unless I spend the night of the 1st in gaol somewhere.