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Got the XboxOne and Destiny

Sat, 10/11/2014 - 11:19 — Bee

I told myself I wouldn't do it, but I couldn't help myself.   When I imported my GT to the one, i used the wrong email, new gt=Bee Silver (old xbox silver account).  Please add it or whatever it is you do on the xboxone, looking to just do some missions and take it slow, I already feel like I'm drowing in deep water on the game, don't really get it yet.

Good writing, or simply terrifying?

Fri, 08/15/2014 - 10:38 — Bee

I found this on reddit, true or not this is one captivating story.  Hopefully they follow up.  I just stumbled across this on the front page and I'm fairly new to reddit (I know, I know... I need to get with the program), so I'm sorry if this is old news.

*Edit- Okay I just realized this is fiction writing.  This is the description of the subreddit: NoSleep is a place for authors to share their original horror stories. Both nonfiction and realistic fiction are allowed.

Anyhow, I still think it's entertaining and plan to look for further updates by whoever posted it.

 

stillrunning wrote:

 

 


 

Before I get into this, I need to make something clear.

This isn’t happening right now. I’m not going to beg for advice or help, because I’m beyond any of your help. I’ve had to give up everything in my life that ever mattered. This happened more than 9 years ago, and I’m finally taking the risk to share it. World events are seriously scaring me, and I have more…personal reasons that I can get into later.

To post this, I’ve driven around town for forty minutes before I found an unsecured internet connection. I’m not risking posting this from my own. I made a throwaway account, which has no ties to anything related to my life.

I’m well and truly fucked, and it’s all because of an email that I should never have received.

In the summer of 2005 I thought I had everything I ever needed from life. I had just finished grad school and begun teaching English at a local community college, had married the love of my life that January in an awesome and geeky ceremony, we had moved into a fix-it-up bungalow on three acres of land, and we had just rescued an Elkhound puppy from a local shelter. Life was good.

Looking back, I wish I had enjoyed those days more.

My wife (I’ll call her Fay, not her real name) and I had just finished working outside one night in July, and we were relaxing with a beer on the porch. Fireflies were doing their little “I glow, you glow, we all fuck like rabbits” dance, and our puppy was gnawing on a pair of my socks I had tied into a knot for him. I asked Fay if she would mind if I checked my email before we went to bed; I was expecting a notification about the classes I was going to teach in the fall, and was looking forward to actually using my degree.

Fay went up to bed, and I logged into my work email account. There wasn’t an email from my department chair, but there was a new email entitled “Progress of EBOV-7x.” I figured it was spam, but I impulsively clicked on it anyway.

The email’s intended address was literally two letters off from mine, and it came with an attachment named “E-7x results and suggestions.” It was addressed to a man named Mark, and it read as follows:

"Mark,

Attached are the prelim results from the last batch of tests on EBOV-7. The x-generation seems to be holding up much better to the modifications. Remember this is EYES ONLY, so don’t print this out or anything. You’re new here, and we all think your help is really what’s gotten us off the ground on this. If you have anything to add, let me know ASAP.

Provided this gen holds up, we’ll have a much better quarterly report for the bigwigs than we did last time. Don’t wear the tie with the mustard stain on it, OK?

Reagan"

I had no clue who either of these people were, and I didn’t recognize domain name of the email address. The only part I could make out was “Detrick.” Just as I finished reading it, Fay called and asked if I was ready to head to bed. I told her I would only be a minute, the cursor hovering over the download link for the PDF file. Every reasonable part of me said to just delete the email, to pretend I never saw it…but, as you can probably tell, I was youthful and impulsive. I clicked the download link, and after a few seconds, the downloaded file popped up in my downloads. I opened it, fully expecting it to be password locked – I mean, from the tone of the email, wouldn’t you?

It wasn’t. Fuck, I wish it had been.

After it opened, I was bombarded with sentences so thick with scientific lingo that I had difficulty even parsing them out. I was a Liberal Arts major, for fuck’s sake. There was one diagram I recognized, though, from having a friend in undergrad who majored in epidemiology.

It looked like this: http://i.imgur.com/DLcrT80.jpg.

For those of you who don’t know, that’s Ebola.

I skimmed down, until I finally found a paragraph that summarized what I had been struggling to read:

"With the iteration of EBOV-7x and the hiring of new personnel, we believe we have finally addressed the main desires of the client. EBOV-7x contains the following alterations from the base EBOV-0:

A) Increased incubation time of 12 to 40 days as opposed to EBOV-0 incubation of 2 to 12 days.

B) Suppressed the lack-of-appetite common in EBOV-0, thus removing one of the major diagnosable tools.

C) Increased durability of the virus, allowing it to remain hot for up to 8 hours outside the human body (See Test 100BA for applicable data).

D) Decreased rate of fever increase by 20%, allowing for upwards of 35% more time before patient becomes immobilized."

I pushed my chair away from the computer and simply stared for a minute. I rubbed my eyes, and reread the paragraph over and over again. I couldn’t believe what I was reading – what would be the point to this? Who would want these changes to an already deadly virus?

Taking a deep breath, I forced myself to relax. I wasn’t an expert on anything related to Ebola, but one of my strengths had always been an ability to think outside the box and move past my own internal assumptions. I asked myself, what purpose would these changes have? What would be the goal behind it?

As I asked myself that, the answer came to me quickly. It wasn’t about making a vaccine, or wanting to remove the danger from the virus.

Someone was altering Ebola to make it less noticeable, to make it less easily diagnosable.

Someone was making a version of Ebola that wouldn’t burn itself out.

A version of Ebola that COULD be a pandemic.

Holy Shit.

Holy.

Fucking.

Shit.

On pure autopilot, I copied the file onto a USB stick and put it in my messenger bag I used for work. I marked the email as unread and deleted it, then went upstairs to bed. As Fay snored beside me and the puppy curled himself into the crook of my neck, sleep did not find me. I had no clue what to do. Should I go to the police? The news? Should I just forget it ever happened?

Eventually I fell asleep, and got up the next morning. I debated telling Fay about the email – I had never kept anything from her for the four years we had dated – but I decided against it. For all I knew it was nothing, and there was no reason to worry her.

I drove to work, and tried to forget about it. I worked on getting my office situated to my liking, and was about to call Fay to meet me for lunch when two men in dark suits knocked on the open door.

“Yes?” I asked.

“Dr. George?” they asked. (No, that’s not my real name. You won’t find my real name.)

“Yes?” I repeated.

“This is Mr. Rein, and I’m Mr. Frol,” one of them said. If you asked me now, I wouldn’t be able to tell you which was which. They were both middle aged white men, brown hair, clean shaven, and wearing dark sunglasses. “You may have received an email from our company server by mistake last night. Did you?”

OK, I’m gonna have to cut it off here. The family whose WIFI I’m ripping off have looked out the window four times at my car, and now someone has a phone in their hand. I’ll have to be more careful next time. I’ll be back as soon as I can. Stay safe.

I'm hooked to a facebook game

Mon, 08/04/2014 - 22:43 — Bee

There, I've said it.  I feel like a weight has been lifted off of my chest.

Every now and again when I get some free time I'll crank on the Xbox and poke around in some games.  Often times I'll hook up with old 2old2play friends who still haven't deleted me off the old friend's list, and they always ask me the same question, "Where in the Hell have you been?", or "What's new with you?".  I usually respond with a generic 'busy with school' excuse. 

The truth of the matter is that I'm neck deep in a Facebook app called Realm of Empires.  I stare endlessly at an overhead view of a map that changes very slowly over time.  This map just looks like a random bitmap of purple, green, red, and grey to the average person who walks by and sees it on my screen.  Every now and again the view will change as I select every village independently, and there looks to be just a picture of an old town with numbers ticking down above certain buildings.  That's what they see...

I see something different entirely.  I'm like the guy from Pi, there is a pattern in this madness.  I see allies in need, enemies to be conquered, and oppurtunity to grow my empire all around me.  I see troops heading into battle at my whim, and enemy troops coming in waves.  This is not a game for the feint of heart.  No, this is a game for those strong in their resolve.  This game will not be be won over a night, and who defines over?  This game could last for years.  So you like sim city, you like collecting points and climbing the leaderboards do you?  Well how about I just come in and smash your city and take your points like a burglar in the night.  Oh, you've been building this village for a month?  Sit and spin brother, this isn't about collecting points and upgrading buildings.  This is about war.  This is about teamwork,  strategy, espionage, and weeding out the moles.  Nobody can survive alone in this world, you must find people you can trust.  That's where you come in...

So there's my pitch, I'm looking for some people that I can trust, you can find me in the depths of Realm 52, and you can sign up for the game here:

https://www.realmofempires.com/

Searching for roots

Mon, 01/24/2011 - 16:57 — Bee

Thought I would give this blogging thing a shot, and thought what better place to share than with you guys. I've never been one to openly discuss my private business in an open forum. Recently I had some events transpire that I have an overwhelming urge to share. Not really sure why, maybe it'll help guide someone who is in the same situation I was in.

I grew up not knowing my real Father, and never got real clear answers from anyone about him. As I got older I pressed my Mother for some info on him, and always got the same answer. "He's probably dead or in prison, you're better off for not knowing him." This was her recurring answer to me, to which my Grandmother agreed. When I was around 18 my Mom first told me the story about him. She was young and in high school, she met my father at a Bad Company concert, and was attracted to him because he was a "wild child". He was a couple years older than her, rode a Harley, dealt drugs, robbed, got in barfights all the time. Your basic menace to society. She also gave me a name, John. Or "Big John" is what everyone knew him by. She also said that soon after they were together she found out that he was married, and that she didn't find out until she was already pregnant. So she hid the pregnancy from him, and cut all ties. I did some searching for him in the white pages at the time, but never found him.

The subject never really came up again until I was 28, I was on the phone with my Grandmother and she asked me if I ever tried to find him. I told her that I made a small effort but nothing real serious, I couldn't find his name and even doubted if my Mom gave his real name or not. She told me that she didn't make up the name, and told me that she knew my dad's mother and gave me her name. I got online and did a search for her on one of those people finding websites really not expecting to find anything. I was very suprised when the name had a match with about 7 other known family members, but none of them had the name John. I got the phone number it provided,and after gathering some courage i called. Nobody answered, and I didn't leave a message. About 5 minutes later I got a call back from the same number, but couldn't bring myself to answer. I was honestly afraid of being disappointed and decided from that moment on it didn't matter.

Well over this last Christmas I was having a talk with my 5 year old explaining to him that his Grandma was my Mom. So then he asked me "So who's your dad?" It caught me off guard, and I told him "I don't have a dad." Wrong answer to give a 5 year old, lol. So he basically grilled me, he did not understand how it was possible and I didn't know how to explain it to him. After that talk, I decided it was time for me to find my roots, good or bad and get some answers. I did a search again, but didn't want to call before I was sure if this was the right person or not. I got the names of the family members and went on to facebook and started to do some searching. It wasn't until I checked the last of the names on the list that I came across someone that matched with the name Paul, and lived not to far from me. I went to his page, and it was a guy in a wheelchair. I went through his pics, and saw that we shared some traits, but wasn't sure if it was my mind playing tricks on me. Could this be my dad? I grabbed the phone and called the number.

A younger woman answered the phone and then the conversation went something like this:

"Is this Betty?"

"This is Betty's phone, but she's not here. Who is this?"

"I know this might sound kind of strange but I think she was my Grandmother"

"Oh..." I hear her talking in the background to Paul, that's when I knew I had the right number.

"I think you have the wrong number, Paul doesn't have any children."

"Well, I'm not saying Paul was my father. The only thing I've been told is that his name was John."

"Big John?" the line goes quiet for a minute and I can hear her and Paul talking in the background.

"Honey, are you talking about Billy? Everyone called him Big John"

"Yes, that's right, my mom said he went by Big John"

"I'm sorry, but he's dead. He died last year in prison. He'd been there the last 25 years."

So that was that. We swapped some pictures, and after seeing his picture there was no doubt. I also found out that he has another son the same age as me, so that's going to be next on my list. All this transpired 2 days ago, and it's still trying to sink in. If I had have found him just a year earlier there would still be the chance that I could have talked to him face to face, but now I'll never get that chance. I'm sure this is just the way it was meant to be, but if I could do it over again, I would have searched sooner. I'm still not sure what he was in prison for, but I plan to find out, one of his brothers has been trying to contact me, so I'm giving him a call after I get done here.

R.I.P. "Big John"

 

Searching for roots

Mon, 01/24/2011 - 16:57 — Bee

Thought I would give this blogging thing a shot, and thought what better place to share than with you guys. I've never been one to openly discuss my private business in an open forum. Recently I had some events transpire that I have an overwhelming urge to share. Not really sure why, maybe it'll help guide someone who is in the same situation I was in.

I grew up not knowing my real Father, and never got real clear answers from anyone about him. As I got older I pressed my Mother for some info on him, and always got the same answer. "He's probably dead or in prison, you're better off for not knowing him." This was her recurring answer to me, to which my Grandmother agreed. When I was around 18 my Mom first told me the story about him. She was young and in high school, she met my father at a Bad Company concert, and was attracted to him because he was a "wild child". He was a couple years older than her, rode a Harley, dealt drugs, robbed, got in barfights all the time. Your basic menace to society. She also gave me a name, John. Or "Big John" is what everyone knew him by. She also said that soon after they were together she found out that he was married, and that she didn't find out until she was already pregnant. So she hid the pregnancy from him, and cut all ties. I did some searching for him in the white pages at the time, but never found him.

The subject never really came up again until I was 28, I was on the phone with my Grandmother and she asked me if I ever tried to find him. I told her that I made a small effort but nothing real serious, I couldn't find his name and even doubted if my Mom gave his real name or not. She told me that she didn't make up the name, and told me that she knew my dad's mother and gave me her name. I got online and did a search for her on one of those people finding websites really not expecting to find anything. I was very suprised when the name had a match with about 7 other known family members, but none of them had the name John. I got the phone number it provided,and after gathering some courage i called. Nobody answered, and I didn't leave a message. About 5 minutes later I got a call back from the same number, but couldn't bring myself to answer. I was honestly afraid of being disappointed and decided from that moment on it didn't matter.

Well over this last Christmas I was having a talk with my 5 year old explaining to him that his Grandma was my Mom. So then he asked me "So who's your dad?" It caught me off guard, and I told him "I don't have a dad." Wrong answer to give a 5 year old, lol. So he basically grilled me, he did not understand how it was possible and I didn't know how to explain it to him. After that talk, I decided it was time for me to find my roots, good or bad and get some answers. I did a search again, but didn't want to call before I was sure if this was the right person or not. I got the names of the family members and went on to facebook and started to do some searching. It wasn't until I checked the last of the names on the list that I came across someone that matched with the name Paul, and lived not to far from me. I went to his page, and it was a guy in a wheelchair. I went through his pics, and saw that we shared some traits, but wasn't sure if it was my mind playing tricks on me. Could this be my dad? I grabbed the phone and called the number.

A younger woman answered the phone and then the conversation went something like this:

"Is this Betty?"

"This is Betty's phone, but she's not here. Who is this?"

"I know this might sound kind of strange but I think she was my Grandmother"

"Oh..." I hear her talking in the background to Paul, that's when I knew I had the right number.

"I think you have the wrong number, Paul doesn't have any children."

"Well, I'm not saying Paul was my father. The only thing I've been told is that his name was John."

"Big John?" the line goes quiet for a minute and I can hear her and Paul talking in the background.

"Honey, are you talking about Billy? Everyone called him Big John"

"Yes, that's right, my mom said he went by Big John"

"I'm sorry, but he's dead. He died last year in prison. He'd been there the last 25 years."

So that was that. We swapped some pictures, and after seeing his picture there was no doubt. I also found out that he has another son the same age as me, so that's going to be next on my list. All this transpired 2 days ago, and it's still trying to sink in. If I had have found him just a year earlier there would still be the chance that I could have talked to him face to face, but now I'll never get that chance. I'm sure this is just the way it was meant to be, but if I could do it over again, I would have searched sooner. I'm still not sure what he was in prison for, but I plan to find out, one of his brothers has been trying to contact me, so I'm giving him a call after I get done here.

R.I.P. "Big John"

 

Bee

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