The Last Language...
The first thing Murray noticed was that he was alive. They had always taught him to take reality in baby steps and the odds of heaven or hell being represented in his mind as the field he was currently running through were unlikely...regardless of any ancient Greek myths.
The second thing he noticed was the utter lack of a shoe on his left foot. This wasn't all that unusual after one of his spells but it was something that he would have to address eventually. Murray made a mental note, "Obtain left shoe, size 9, ideally black." He would prefer to not to buy a new pair, Murray hated breaking in shoes.
He continued to run, not quite sure where he was heading but fully conscious of what he was attempting to leave behind. The package trap had failed, he would live to see another day. His spirits were lifted with this realization yet fell slightly when he remembered an earlier time. A time when it wasn't always like this.
He had a stable life once. One with relationships, one without assassination attempts, one with a job. An unfulfilling job sure but that was because...
It was because of something but they had treated him well enough. His job was at one of those mega-corporations that is forever attempting to trick the public into a voluntary amnesia of how truly powerful it is. You know the type, you use them everyday. The ones that always have fantastic pieces in the Times about how they've "done away with cubicles", or their open minded flextime program, or how they'll let their employees work on side projects so long as their primary responsibilities are completed. That was what had attracted Murray to them. The freedom to use resources beyond his means to do whatever his imagination could picture. And Murray had one hell of an imagination.
Murray had a problem (Murray knew he had tons of problems, but he liked to think this one was the root of all them). He never fully understood when he bought a computer, or phone, or car, or sewing machine (not that he did) why they always came pre-loaded with an operating system. He was aware that most people viewed them as a necessary evil since humans didn't speak machine language (well, not naturally). Yet to buy this hardware and then install a filter on it (which was what an operating system was to Murray's mind) that would prevent you from fully using and pushing the limits of the item you had just legally purchased.
So Murray began to tinker at work after-hours. He had modest goals at first, just an intelligent program that was based on an extensive questionnaire. It was half psych evaluation and half end user profile. Once completed the program would then build your very own operating system. It would be tailored for you from the type of mouse you perferred (no buttons, four buttons?) to the file architecture used and the device driver languages favored. In short, it would erase everything the manufactureer installed on it and give you the complete freedom to use it exactly however you wished. And who wouldn't want something like that?
The second thing he noticed was the utter lack of a shoe on his left foot. This wasn't all that unusual after one of his spells but it was something that he would have to address eventually. Murray made a mental note, "Obtain left shoe, size 9, ideally black." He would prefer to not to buy a new pair, Murray hated breaking in shoes.
He continued to run, not quite sure where he was heading but fully conscious of what he was attempting to leave behind. The package trap had failed, he would live to see another day. His spirits were lifted with this realization yet fell slightly when he remembered an earlier time. A time when it wasn't always like this.
He had a stable life once. One with relationships, one without assassination attempts, one with a job. An unfulfilling job sure but that was because...
It was because of something but they had treated him well enough. His job was at one of those mega-corporations that is forever attempting to trick the public into a voluntary amnesia of how truly powerful it is. You know the type, you use them everyday. The ones that always have fantastic pieces in the Times about how they've "done away with cubicles", or their open minded flextime program, or how they'll let their employees work on side projects so long as their primary responsibilities are completed. That was what had attracted Murray to them. The freedom to use resources beyond his means to do whatever his imagination could picture. And Murray had one hell of an imagination.
Murray had a problem (Murray knew he had tons of problems, but he liked to think this one was the root of all them). He never fully understood when he bought a computer, or phone, or car, or sewing machine (not that he did) why they always came pre-loaded with an operating system. He was aware that most people viewed them as a necessary evil since humans didn't speak machine language (well, not naturally). Yet to buy this hardware and then install a filter on it (which was what an operating system was to Murray's mind) that would prevent you from fully using and pushing the limits of the item you had just legally purchased.
So Murray began to tinker at work after-hours. He had modest goals at first, just an intelligent program that was based on an extensive questionnaire. It was half psych evaluation and half end user profile. Once completed the program would then build your very own operating system. It would be tailored for you from the type of mouse you perferred (no buttons, four buttons?) to the file architecture used and the device driver languages favored. In short, it would erase everything the manufactureer installed on it and give you the complete freedom to use it exactly however you wished. And who wouldn't want something like that?