The Digital Man
Historical Fiction

I'll start it a little something like this because it's just a good way to start a story. (I just hope I don't put myself to sleep.)

Once upon a time, in a land not before time, but certain not at a time we care particularly a lot about either because we didn't know that it happened, or that there was such a time if time as such even exists in the same for that we know it today. For all I know, this could have happened yesterday or last week, or next week (if you choose to believe in time as non-linear. And you might. you just never know). Anyhoo, there was this guy. His name was Rick. He lived in a small suburb of the Kingdom of Lister. (I don't think you would be able to find Lister on a map, so don't even try. It's not even on this planet....well, it could be, but just because I don't want you pre-occupied with wondering how to drive there, or if Reno Air flies there, we'll say that it is (or was, as the case may be) not on the planet Earth) The suburb was named Askew. In this suburb, Rick had a small shop in the strip mall (what's a suburb without a strip mall?). In this shop, Rick made watches. He made analog watches and clocks for the entire kingdom. (This was, of course, in a land w/out lawyers, so a small shop owner could easily setup a monopoly without fear of retribution (well, other than perhaps having you shop burned down and perhaps maming some family members as was the case in feudal times even on other planets)) Rick was exceedingly good at his job and he loved it very much. he could craft the smallest of gears with the smallest of instruments by touch. He could tell if the timing of good or bad just by listening even amid the clatter of all his wall clocks, alarm clocks, gradmother clocks, grandfather clocks, cat clocks, dog clocks, everywhere a tick-tock.

On one sunny Greenday afternoon (they didn't name their days the same as ours, of course), while on a stroll through his lands, the King of Lister, the good Kind Alton, happened past Rick's shop around noon when all the clocks were going off. Drawn in by the din, King Alton commissioned Rick to construct him a clock that made no noise for it was well known throughout the land that the good king, albeit kind and benevolent to all, enjoyed his peace and quiet and wanted nothing to disturb him whilst he was at rest in his home. Not even the quite whirring of the smoothest running clock. It was rumored, and at one point found to be true, that the king actually had a stable of men who were in charge of standing next to an ornate, but gutless, clock face, and manually turned the hands for each minute. Even the silent movement of the rotating hands seemed to disturb the king's slumber.

The King was having his birthday on the fortnight (that's 2 weeks to any non-Shakespeare readers out there), so this was the deadline to produce this so improbable of gifts at the setting of the 2nd sun.

So Rick, never one to refuse a challenge, especially one from the King, set forth on his design. He rode throughout the land enlisting the services of bards, philosophers, sages, luminaries, and other professional thinking persons to assist him in this greatest of tasks.

The 2 weeks had past, and none of the suburb of Askew nor Kingdom of Lister had heard nor seen Rick since he set out on his quest. Everyone in the kingdom as well as many from across the land and neighboring kingdoms came not just to celebrate the King's birthday, but also out of curiosity to see what the chonographer could produce that was quieter than his already most precise and quiet creations. Right on time, (as you might expect from one who is so fanatical about making watches) Rick came walking through the door carrying a small yet elegant box lovingly crafted as a conveyance for a gift fit for a King. The tall doors of the large hall closed quietly behind as Rick stepped through and proceeded down the corridor of thousands of people all silently fighting for a glimpse of this gift.

Rick stopped and kneeled before his King offering up his prize. The King received the gift and opened the box as everyone heald their breaths to see if it was ticking. There was no sound. To his empirial joy, he was holding an independently accurate watch that made no noise displaying only numbers without mechanical movement on a field of gray.

"How did you accomplish this feat? Is this some sort of which craft?"

"No, your majesty. 'tis magic harnessed from beyond the great canyons of Jordan. A method taught me by an enchanter named Tim. It is something he calls Digital."

And yay, the King was happy, and the people did feast and party and throw up 'til dawn. Rick was given a Knighthood and his choice of cool cars and a room in the palace as Court Chonographer.

And that's how digital watches came to be.

So, kids, what'd we learn today? Well, we learned that we should never let Dave have access to email when he is ill, sleep deprived, and near a poster with the 1997-1998 Blazers squad on it.

 

09/26/02