Former reputable journalist Bud Buck is now set up as a news aggregator, re-writing and putting his personal spin on stories that were initiated elsewhere. It’s a form of imaginary journalism, somewhat like blogging, but Bud pretends he’s more legitimate by earnestly quoting the people whose voices he hears inside his head.

I’ve been deleting most of his e-mails of late, but this one was too interesting to pass up:

Massive E-mail Address Spill Threatens to Spoil Internet for Everyone
by Bud Buck

The cyber-theft of a record number of names and e-mail addresses has caused customers of some of America’s largest and most respected companies to treat certain e-mails with suspicion and even disdain. And it may have the long-term effect of changing the supportive, trusting atmosphere of Americans’ online experience.

While no account, social security or other vital numbers were compromised, online security experts warn that this incident could lead to an increase in the number of fake targeted e-mails that attempt to draw important personal information out of gullible customers. Privacy consultants recommend that people ignore any such request.

But if that attitude takes hold, it could lead to a sudden change in behavior by those who thoughtlessly and regularly share too much information.

“That’s it,” said Susan Owlish, a schoolteacher. “I loved the internet because it offered what felt like a warm embrace from companies that I previously thought of as aloof and uncaring. These criminals are going to ruin a beautiful relationship that was developing between me and Vast Bank, which holds all my checking, savings and retirement money in accounts that now total something more than 200 thousand dollars!”

“I just normally assume any e-mail that asks for my checking account number comes from somebody who really needs it,” said Derek Bloomer, a freelance writer. “I mean, that’s a lot of seemingly random digits to deal with. My number, 9456-000159, is so boring I have to look it up every time I need it. So what’s the harm in sharing it? If I can’t remember what the number is, won’t they forget it too?”

Bloomer admitted that he would be more suspicious of such e-mails in the future, but he also questioned the veracity of the entire address-theft story.

“Why aren’t they telling us exactly how many names were stolen?” he asked. “I want to know if I just lost my first and last names, or my three middle names as well – Arthur Westly Cornrow. And do they know about my inheritance?”

Derek Arthur Westly Cornrow Bloomer also wondered out loud if the whole story might be just another kind of a scam. And there are signs that this sort of distrust may be spreading among those who are habitually free with their own details and with the private information of others.

“I used to believe everything I saw on my computer screen,” said bus driver Lorna Bunion. “After all, it was in print, and I grew up with great respect for the printed word thanks to my parents, Robert and Sophie Bunion, who are rare book collectors living at 8823 Johnson Circle in a small house without deadbolt locks. I was also raised with a great respect for gold and other precious metals, but I probably shouldn’t tell you why.”

And so, the chill descends.

This is Bud Buck!

How do you decide what to delete, and what to read?

I was standing in front of the house the other afternoon, reaching for a string of Christmas lights that had become dislodged from the roof, when I heard the familiar sound of jangling metal behind me – Bathtub Safety Officer Rafferty was briskly walking up the driveway, a massive collection of keys slapping the side of his leg as he shouted:

BSOR: Halt! Don’t touch that! You could suffer a terrible injury!

Me: What makes you say that?

BSOR: Power cords are dangerous. Glass is perilous. And ice is potentially lethal! Any one of these alone can deliver massive amounts of pain and suffering!

He had a point. The lights were the kind with the large glass bulbs. And I admit it – I was standing on an icy patch.

BSOR: Also, I know you’re thinking about getting out the ladder.

I hate it when he does this. I WAS thinking about the ladder.

BSOR: Gravity plus electricity plus glass plus the absence of friction at ground level. That’s what you get when you give in to the crazy pressure society puts on all of us to remove holiday lighting displays before the conditions are completely safe!

Me: But it’s April! You can’t say I’ve given in to pressure to take down the lights too early when the holiday was over three months ago!

BSOR: Why the rush? I always dismantle my festive display starting at 5 pm on the Fourth of July. By then the snow has melted, the footing is good, and there’s plenty of daylight left to finish the job. Plus, because of all the illegal fireworks being launched throughout the day I know the local emergency rooms are staffed and supplied with everything they need to treat horrific injuries should something go terribly wrong for me.

Me: Wow, you really have thought this through, completely!

BSOR: And if I wind up being hospitalized that evening, I can make good use of the moments when I’m conscious to scold the other patients around me for playing with explosives!

Me: So you really do visualize all the possibilities and expect the worst!

BSOR: I have a good imagination.

Me: Well I can’t wait until the Fourth of July to take down these decorations. This particular string of lights has detached itself from the house and is swinging by the front door. I could get sued if somebody gets whipped in the face when they come to … I don’t know … deliver the paper?

BSOR: Is that the best you can do? I’ve seen the guy who delivers your paper and he doesn’t get anywhere near your house. He throws the paper at your front door from a moving car in the street. A much more likely scenario is that the person standing by this swinging string of lights would be some sort of sales agent. Or a police officer, come to issue you a citation for having a dangerously detached festive display!

Me: Gosh, I hadn’t thought of that.

BSOR: Or worse, your Congressman, come door knocking! They’re lawyers, you know!

Me: That’s not too likely.

BSOR: And what if one of the bulbs breaks and he gets whipped in the face by the cord AND the jagged edge of shattered glass!

Me: Ugh.

BSOR: And after the glassy shards of your busted lights embed themselves his skin, the string of lights gets wrapped around his neck and he slips on the ice and falls off your front stoop but the string isn’t long enough to allow his feet to touch the ground?

Me: That’s gruesome.

BSOR: And don’t forget – this is still plugged in. Sparks could be flying everywhere and it might take down the grid!

Me: That’s implausible.

BSOR: All the commotion might even draw radiation through the wires from that damaged nuclear power plant in Japan!

Me: Ludicrous.

BSOR: Maybe it’s ludicrous to you and me, but this is a member of Congress we’re talking about now, right? In their imaginations, anything is possible. The National Guard would be deployed. This whole neighborhood would have to be quarantined for thousands of years, and you’d go to jail for at least that long, just because you HAD to take the lights down today!

Me: Everything you just described is completely and utterly impossible.

BSOR: And you are surprisingly weak when it comes to picturing the worst thing that could happen.

Me: I know. That’s why I’m able to sleep at night.

Do you expect the best, or the worst?

There’s a lot of excitement about new photos from the hot planet Mercury, and the news drew a response from an old friend in the enhanced food business – Dr. Larry Kyle of Genway, the supermarket for genetically engineered foods.

Greetings, virtual space travelers!

I’ve been waiting over six years for the Messenger spacecraft to arrive at Mercury, thinking all the while about the ways we can take parts of our natural world and blend them with equally natural parts of other worlds!

Yes, I work in a grocery store, but why should I let that limit my thinking? We can draw inspiration from anywhere, and the universe is full of useful ideas if only we will allow ourselves to dream and not be deterred by nagging questions like “why”?

Look at this amazing photo that was taken just two days ago!

A rare close up of the planet Mercury orbiting an angry sun?

Good guess, but No! It’s Genway’s new EXTREME Cantaloupe!

The cantaloupe is a wonderful melon – golden like squash but sweet like candy, it’s easy to love and fun to eat. But so limited! After you cut it open, scoop out the seeds and cut it into slices or chunks, there’s little left you can do with a cantaloupe except make a cold soup. And I hate cold soup!

Inspired by the Messenger mission, I decided to create a craggy bit of spherical produce that was up to the rigors of outer space, particularly the type of scorching heat and intense cold endured by Mercury in its slow rotation so close to our intense and merciless sun.

I combined normal cantaloupe DNA with genes taken from deep-sea creatures that live near boiling steam vents in the intense cold of the lower depths of our vast oceans. The result? A sturdy fruit with a tough outer shell that that can be tossed in the freezer or the bonfire, with delicious results!

Finally, an easy way to make HOT cantaloupe soup. Here’s how:

Ingredients:

1 Genway EXTREME Cantaloupe
1 sprig of mint

Tools:
1 pair Welder’s Goggles
1 Industrial Blast Furnace
1 pair Insulated Tongs
1 Impervious Robot with Remote Drilling Capability

Take the EXTREME cantaloupe, and using welder’s goggles to protect your eyes from the glare, open the door to the raging blast furnace and toss in the fruit.

Leave it in there for ten full minutes, or until the rugged surface of the melon appears hopelessly charred and totally unable to support life as we know it.

Using insulated tongs, remove the EXTREME cantaloupe and set it on an insulated, ceramic surface.

Making sure that you are more than 20 feet away from the EXTREME cantaloupe, instruct your Impervious Robot to drill a hole in the rugged crust. A jet of sweet, superheated steam will erupt, filling the room with a golden warmth that may also fuse exposed parts of your robot together into a single, useless mass.

If the robot is still operational, have it pour the bright golden molten contents of the EXTREME cantaloupe into an asbestos bowl.

Periodically touch the surface of the soup until it does not raise blisters on your skin.

Toss on the sprig of fresh mint, and Enjoy!

On the drawing board – Saturn Squash, surrounded by rings of butter!

Share a recipe or a story about food that is Too Much Trouble to make.

Dear Dr. Babooner,

They say it is the custom to disguise one’s identity when addressing the great Dr. Babooner, but I am not afraid! My greatness and your greatness can stand side by side because there is something about your face that tells me we are like a brother and sister.

As my sister, you will already know that I do not ask for advice – I share my wisdom with the people. What I have for you today is this – when you are told you must leave a place, especially if it is a place where you have been comfortable for quite some time, it is best to be defiant! Yes, one could pitch one’s tent elsewhere, but the world is unkind to those who are easily dislodged. Jet lag, for example, is God’s vengeance on the weak-willed. Boldly express your insanity and make your critics move instead!

I have no question other than this: How magnificent am I?

Irrationally,
Moammar

I told Moammar he did not appear at all on my personal magnificence chart, but as a provocative, incoherent ranter he is right up there with Charlie Sheen. Saying fatuous, inexplicable things is a well-trod path to getting attention in the world today. However, a publicity-seeking person taking the crazy dictator approach should know when to cash in and move on. Given what I’ve heard about his personal situation at this point, if offered a slot on a reality show, Moammar should take it. Donald Trump’s “The Apprentice” would be a perfect vehicle for him. Perhaps the next season could also include Mr. Sheen for a guaranteed ratings bonanza in the first week at least. But it would be wise to get paid in advance.

I did allow that he might have a point about jet lag.
But that’s just one opinion. What do YOU think, Dr. Babooner?

I’m trying, with mixed success, to get back into the routine of writing every day. Even though the heavy lifting has just begun, it can help to catch your breath, so today I’m turning the blog over to Tamara Kant-Waite, Past President Pro-tem of the Future Historians of America.

I believe she has an inspirational message for us all!

Dear Prospective Primary Sources,

You may think you’re a dull nobody today, but once you’ve become part of the unalterable past, you and your things will turn into objects of fascination for historians of the future.

For example, on the lower east side of Manhattan, there’s a wonderful place called the Tenement Museum where the lives of poor immigrants of the 19th and early 20th century are immortalized through conservation of the building where they lived and worked. You can visit the dingy, crowded apartments that generations struggled to get out of! The people who lived in these tenements would no doubt be flabbergasted to see well-fed tour groups shuffling down their narrow hallways.

And I’m guessing when Elizabeth Taylor was 17 years old, in love, starring in the movies and writing ten page long gushing mushy letters to her fiancée, she wasn’t thinking about being dead and having those letters published in national newspapers and sold to the highest bidder.

But there you go. That’s what time will do – it magnifies everything. Whatever purpose you had in mind for that mundane thing you just did, you can be sure history will see it as a fascinating window into another era.

So remember, anything you touch today could become an artifact! Be attentive when you interact with things because that cherished object of yours could have a glass case in its future. Tomorrow’s archivists have just one request – be sure to develop a story about your object and by all means write that story down.

And please, for the sake of historians and auctioneers of the future, use paper.

Yes, e-mails are easier and they supposedly last forever, but the history that impresses us most has to do with things we can pick up and hold, carry around, frame, encase and send on tour. Nobody would buy a ticket to see King Tut’s blogs.

That reminds me – if you ever get the chance to completely cover something in gold, do it!

And remember – these historic objects and artifacts will need to be categorized by curators. That’s honest work for Future Historians of America, a group of people who are mostly unemployed at the moment, and in many cases not even born yet. So do something good today for the economy of tomorrow – write a crazy love letter to someone who you think would be shallow enough to sell that honest expression of devotion to an auction house.

Make it something special, and the scholars of nexter-year will make sure it lives forever!

You’re a dead celebrity. What have you touched or produced that collectors will want to buy?