Franks Parabola: Becoming an Intercept

...For a few seconds the room was so quiet only the faint electronic buzz computers make could be heard. (Even in the twenty- third century computers "buzz") Then the Boss spoke. "Whats going on boys?" he inquired in a condescending tone. Frank stole a quick look at Art, who had shoved the cell phone in his pocket and now looked positively wild.

...Since it was evident that Art either wouldn't or more likely couldn't speak, Frank cleared his throat. "I must say you gave us a bit of a start sir, we just talking about um- you!" Art made a slight sound, something like a fish out of water. "You were talking about me eh?" asked the Boss. Frank only hoped the last of his and Arts conversation had not been overheard by his Boss as he launched into an impromptu speech. "Yes, and a marvelous topic it is sir! I must say you run a tight ship around here; the floors are always spotless, the desks are immaculate, the windows well washed, the staff punctual, your picture on the wall perfectly reflects the establishment, Oh and the floors are really clean-quiet immaculate"- "Yes Frank", the Boss interrupted, "You already said that but I appreciate your approval. However you are rather quiet today Art."

... Franks head whirled, he had to intercept the Boss before Art gave them both away. From the way Art looked at that moment, Frank was sure it would only take a short second of eternity to send them both packing if he but opened his mouth. Frank saw the problem something like this.

...Imagine a coordinate graph; on it a parabola has been set in motion by the Boss between Y-intercept Frank, the vertex Art, and back up to Frank as an unknown coordinate. Now Frank would rather not find out what his other coordinate might be if the Boss met up with Art at the Parabolas vertex. In fact it is a good thing for Frank that this situation is not an algebraic equation because the answer looks messy. For now all Frank had to do was make sure that he was the vertex, not Art. (Math people will get what I'm talking about, the rest may want to pull out their dusty algebra books and review the section on Parabolas)

...Intercepting the Boss would be tricky, but Frank had to try! Art was looking more and more like a cornered cockroach and less like a respectable employee every second. "Er sir, Art is not doing so well today-yeah I think these peanuts were too roasted or something." The Boss looked incredulous "Peanuts too roasted, I've never heard of that." Frank nodded vigorously and tried to look sagacious. "O yes, there was an article about it in the International Geographic last week. In fact I'm not feeling so well myself." Frank rubbed his stomach for added effect- hoping the Boss would forget about Art.

...It worked, the Boss grew concerned. "Wow, I wonder if its serious- you know I eat peanuts myself- could I see the bag?" he asked. "Sure" Frank said handing him the package. "Oh my, the same brand! I really should go see about this" the Boss exclaimed laying his hand across his own stomach and inching toward the door. For a moment Frank wandered if he had missed his vocation, perhaps he should have been an actor. "You do that sir, I wouldn't take any chances!" he called after his Boss.

...Then he and Art were alone again. "Oh my gosh Frank, that was too close! And you were marvelous!" cried Art, speaking for the first time. "Yeah well", Frank said and was about to boast a bit about his incredible acting talents when Art jumped up. Seizing him by the shoulders Art exclaimed "Lets not waste anymore time, come on!" Frank found himself being whizzed down the hall and out the door. "where are we we going?" he gasped. "No time to talk, you'll see!" his impetuous friend cried. Art was definitely an unstable vertex.


A note to the side: I am not a "math person", at least I'm not brilliant in it :) But nor am I a "math hater", I do enjoy new mathematical concepts when they are properly explained to me. I believe I am a writer; at least I love to write! Because of this I enjoy seeing parallels between the mathematical world and real life situations.

Paranoia and Cell Phones: The Problem with Art

...Several weeks had passed since Art had begun reading the "blog". He and Frank had not discussed the matter further, and to tell the truth, Frank was not overly concerned. What Art did was arts business, he wasn't about to get involved. (That would be an expensive expenditure of precious energy)

...But today the matter was brought up again in a way which rudely jolted Franks complacency and drained his carefully reserved energy supply. Frank had just walked into his office, a bag of salted peanuts in hand, when a knock sounded on the door. "Come in" he said. The door opened and Art came in so quickly all Frank saw was the passing blur of his white face.

... "What's wrong?" Frank asked in surprise, pausing in the middle of putting a peanut in his mouth. "I just had a close call", his friend replied, "The boss thinks I'm taking too long editing the blogs I'm assigned." Art plopped down in his chair, mopped his forehead, and held out his hand for a peanut. Frank raised his eyebrow as he gave him one and sat down in his own chair, "So what?" His friend looked at him in disbelief, "So what? What kind of question is that!" The disheveled Art cried. Suddenly he looked up and scanned the ceiling, "I think the room may be tapped" he whispered.

...Frank felt himself choke on a peanut and when he recovered he could only stare at his friend. "You think the rooms tapped?" he finally blurted. "Yeah" Art said, still whispering. "Why on earth would anyone want to listen to anything you or I have to say?" Frank questioned further. Art looked a bit sheepish as he rolled his purple chair next to Franks orange one again. "Remember Frank, I'm reading the blogs!" he said in the softest voice he could muster.

...Again Frank could only stare. The seemed to be getting hot and something red flashed before his eyes as he became angry. (An unusually strong emotion in these days) "You've been reading Blogs" he cried, the small goatee on his chin quivering. "I thought you were only going to check out one Blog, now your saying Blogs plural!" Franks friend tried to hush him, "Keep your voice down Frank before someone hears you!"

..."Why should I care if someone hears me?" Frank continued even louder. "I'll tell you what I'm going to do, I'm going to march over to the Boss' office and spill the beans!" Art cried out in horror, "No Frank, don't do that!" "And why not?" Frank asked trying to calm down because he was feeling so extremely uncomfortable. "Because I've found something important, worth investigating, and if you give me away I'll never get to the bottom of it." Art said.

..." How important, what about?" Frank asked, not sure he wanted to know. "It's been passed down in my family for generations-just two words" Art began, while rolling his chair away from Frank. He opened a drawer of his desk and began rummaging through stacks of paper and candy trash. Frank had never seen the inside of Art's drawers and could not help but make a mental note that his drawers were better organized. Absent mindedly he opened up one of his own drawers for a peak and felt a glow of satisfaction that his drawers were indeed tidier.

..."Ah ha!" Art cried suddenly, and Frank jumped while slamming his drawer closed. " Here it is Frank" Art said rolling his chair over yet again. Franks friend held out an antique cell phone, well preserved for its extreme age. (People do not use cell phones anymore, they use brain cell phones which are implanted above the ear for permanent use.) " I procured a charger for it off of X-bay and keep it juiced" was Art's explanation as he flipped it open and turned it on. Frank wanted to laugh at the stupidity of its design, imagine the inconvenience of having to flip it open to use it. Art had gone to the text message screen and pulled up something. He now held it up for Frank to read the two words displayed on the screen. "Christianity Undercover".

..."What does it mean?" Frank asked. "I'm still not sure" replied Art, "But I came across a link in that blog on blogeology I showed you last week". Frank shook his head, "Why does it matter?"
"It matters to me Frank, that message has been in my family for years and no one knows what it means" Art said. "When I found a link about something similar I came across a trail, I think I'm on to something!" Art was excited now. "I can't stop reading the blogs!" he cried.

...A slight noise at the door caught there attention and they turned with their hearts in their mouths. The door swung open and there stood the boss.....

Episode 3: A Higher Integer Order

...In the twenty third century school many subjects were taught, but they were mere shadows of their former prestige. When Frank was a school boy he had been briefed on many admirable subjects, whose sole worth was in their title; such as "Algebra", "Calculus" or "English Literature", what a ring they had! But that was the end of their worth for Frank. He had fumbled through "Algebra", for example, without really understanding it, or even trying to. But at least he had the satisfaction of saying he had done it! The school world was divided into two groups; those who studied so intensely they forgot why they did so and knowledge became something of an elusive god; and those who could care less, didn't really "know", and otherwise became the majority of society. Frank fell into the last category.

...But Frank's friend Art did not. At least in Franks opinion, and he ranked Art in the "Higher Integer Order" while putting himself in the "Lower Integer Order". You may be wandering what integers and algebra have to do with Franks thought processing, but these two terms are quite possibly the only things he remembers from his algebra class. When the teacher had held up her enlarged palm pilot pointer towards the projected chalk board and announced "Today we shall look at higher and lower integers", Frank thought she had said intelligence orders. And even he was corrected on the point by a friendly classmate. he could not stop thinking of it in that way.

...Now this is not to say that Frank felt inferior to Art. In fact he secretly was proud of his own uncommon good sense, relaxed lifestyle and easy personality. Someone like Art could be tiresome, dangerous and not all the way there at times. It is at such a moment we find them now.

..."I say Frank, come have a look at this blog", cried Art from his comfortable work chair. Frank wandered if it would be worth getting out of his comfortable work chair to have a look, but Arts repeated demands caused him to get up with a sigh. Pushing a wisp of unruly brown bang out of his eyes he leaned over Art to read the blogs title, "Blogeology". Frank looked at Art who looked back at him. "Well", Frank said shrugging his shoulders. "Don't you see the date on the last post!" Art exclaimed. Frank looked down again and read the bold date at the top of the page, it read, "2008". It was odd, even Franks dense perception could gather that.

..."I thought Blogeology didn't become a branch of service until 2180" he said with a puzzled frown. "Odd! I say its more than odd!" Art exclaimed, spluttering with excitement. "Don't you see Frank, this is a fabulous find. Someone in the twenty-first century had the idea of blogeology before it was ever invented!" Franks impetuous friend said with more spluttering. " Well, I'm glad you find interest in it Art. But it looks like a normal blog to me, we are always finding this sort of thing you know" Frank answered while edging back to his seat.

...Art just sat there, stairing at the screen. Frank shook his head, here was another fine example of the downsides to being a higher integer. "Frank" Art said softly. "Uh huh" Frank answered absent mindedly, while returning to his editing of the 2008 election campaign. "I'm going to read this blog, it looks interesting" Art said. Frank snapped back into reality with a rude jolt. "What, read the blog!" he cried aghast. (For those who do not know, TSB's used a computer program which highlighted the areas to be deleted or "fixed". The program did most of the "reading" and TSB's were under solemn oath not to read the blogs if at all possable)

...Frank stared at his friend in disbelief, "You could lose your job or worse!"Art turned around to face him and wore a strange expression on his face. "I know, but I can't help it. There is so much I want to know, and no one will give me the answers. I feel its in there somewhere, just waiting for me." Frank cleared his throat, Art was in one of those moods. " Please don't tell the agency, okay Frank?" Art pleaded. Frank felt stuck, he could tell the agency, but then he would lose his only friend.

..."Alright Art, I won't tell this time but its not happening again" he said. Art smiled, and Frank went back to his work. If Frank had not been wearing his ipod delux, the size of a flea, and turned up high, he would have heard Art mutter "We will see".