True Confessions from the Hacker-Time Bloggersphere.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Three years ago, I was on assignment. My job was to monitor traffic. Specifically, “A-1’s” communication on Twitter. A-1 is the code name that identifies “Ass-Hole-Number-One.” He likes the designation. He doesn’t know what the word “mnemonic” means. He can’t read.
My bosses face reddened. He jumped up. He lifted his right hand and rolled his eyes to the ceiling flinging his coffee mug, shattering shards of fragments off the white board back towards the front of the table. I ducked and put my hand over my face.
“What in the name of democracy is happening? He’s a god damned mother-fuckin’-cock-sukin’ idiot!” he bellowed.
“He tweeted it, boss.”
I really wasn’t sure.
“He sent the doomsday code word out in plan text, in a fuckin’ Tweet? You’re telling me he Tweeted? Cov … Tweeted????? When in the fuck did that happen?”
I handed Matt the transcript. The date-time stamp was a few minutes after midnight.
“I guess he wasn’t fuckin’, Boss.”
“Don’t say anything. Don’t blink. Don’t move. Don’t react. Don’t breath it … Don’t ever even think about that word again, ever … never!” Matt scowled. “There’s too much shit going on right now and there’s bound to be other shit and more shit after that and with so much shit on top of shit and shit going on, and this shit … and … “
“Shit!” He exploded, stomped out of the conference room, slamming the door, muttering. “He’s fuckin’ idiot! A god-damned fuckin’ idiot!!!”
“Toilette paper,” I whispered under my breath. “I guess I better go buy some … “