In real life, Norman has few hobbies. For a while, he was harvesting overnight Coffee-Mate crystals from his coffee cup and forming these into small but elaborate sculptures which he still keeps in a bonsai sand garden on a shelf above his desk. Norman discovered that the secret to growing a compelling crystal was finding the correct balance of sugar and Coffee-Mate and leaving only a small amount of coffee unconsumed. The best crystals form as the liquid evaporates over a long weekend or extended work from home.
This all changed when Norman's employers, or rather Norman's employers' health insurance provider instituted a new worker wellness program involving a new longevity plan known as "Biome in a Cup," which required employees to opt out from product-usage if they had health concerns, which Norman had not for a variety of reasons.
Biome in a Cup is a supplement you add to tea or coffee. It contains a number of essential vitamins and nutrients which provide various benefits for employees, which allows a reduction in overall cost of coverage. BiaC also contains a mix a prebiotics and probiotics which result in a healthy interbiome comediation between employees - resulting in less sick days and interpersonal issues. The only downside for Norman was that the BiaC program was introduced simultaneous with removal of all Coffee-Mate products from staff kitchens, for reasons on "non-synergy."
He had at one point been on a task force on related subject matter, but he had stopped attending, and so he never raised an objection, but this did spell an end to his hobby.
Chapter 3
Norman was a victim to a combination of homeostatic inclination and degradation and Moore's Law: the more things changed, the more they stayed the same, but they inevitably got more complicated, and smaller.
And so it was that Norman found himself carrying around a laptop bag containing a smart phone, a tablet, and a bluetooth keyboard. As far as he was concerned, Norman might just has well have been carrying around a compact and a lipstick case. As far as Norman was concerned, this was a "man purse".
But the laptop case was still the badge of the contractor-consultant, and he carried it with some pride; although, he acknowledged that he was a victim.
And that, you see, is the thing of it all. The more things change... plus-ce que le meme chose or something like that; because that is how it always happened. Things got smarter, things got smaller, but in the end, they always got more complicated. More difficult. This was why contractor-consultants were always in demand. As soon as a process, technology or methodology started to become simple, a new one - smarter and smaller - came along and disrupted it.
And so it was that Norman found himself carrying around a laptop bag containing a smart phone, a tablet, and a bluetooth keyboard. As far as he was concerned, Norman might just has well have been carrying around a compact and a lipstick case. As far as Norman was concerned, this was a "man purse".
But the laptop case was still the badge of the contractor-consultant, and he carried it with some pride; although, he acknowledged that he was a victim.
And that, you see, is the thing of it all. The more things change... plus-ce que le meme chose or something like that; because that is how it always happened. Things got smarter, things got smaller, but in the end, they always got more complicated. More difficult. This was why contractor-consultants were always in demand. As soon as a process, technology or methodology started to become simple, a new one - smarter and smaller - came along and disrupted it.
Chapter 1
When Reki Carson had new business cards made up, she chose the only description that truly captured her work: "Troll-Hunter". She had been tempted to add "Extraordinaire". In the early days, Reki had played multiple roles: SEO, PR/PMP, MVP etc. She would consult pretty much anyone on anything,and v. versa. Her plan at the time was to always have an answer.
Unfortunately, not everyone recognized the value of the answers Reki provided. In monetary terms, least of all.
You can actually survive quite well on gratuities and gratis, if you do it right, relying on trade and payment in kind. For a while. Sort of.
And so. when one of her co-creators (Reki shared a communal working space with a collective of like-minded independents) - when one of her co-creators, a local entrepreneur, asked her if she'd like a full-time gig, she jumped at the opportunity.
"Not likely, I have too many commitments as it is."
"Well...
"Doing what, anyway? Pestering people all hours of the day? I know your kind of work, Brit."
One of this entrepreneur's latest ventures was a small privately owned group of Infestation Consultants passing under the name Dial-a-Pest. The idea was simple. For some people, life was just too good. They worked religiously, brought home massive paychecks, but lead soulless lives.
Brit's company supplied these people with something they were lacking: something to hate.
For a fee, a trained specialist would follow you, learn your habits, likes and dislikes, then find a way to move in to your life. Next door. Whatever. They would irritate you. They would make your life miserable, and you would pay for it because that was what was missing from your life. "Life too good? Dial-a-Pest" was their tagline.
Stop paying and the service goes away, as specified in the terms in the EULA. But people didn't stop paying. People wanted more.
"I'm diversifying. Getting into the internet."
"You have a web presence, don't you? I helped you develop it..."
"Deeper than that. I mean, think about it..."
"Just tell me what you're thinking."
Conversations with Brit typically wound round and round like this. He could spend 15 minutes asking you if you'd like to put on a fresh coffee pot.
"Trolls."
Traditionally, trolls live under bridges. If they see sunlight, they turn into stone. And they can regenerate lost body parts. But these trolls, they live in internet forums, and much like gremlins, you should never feed them.
"Trolls, Brit? Trolls?"
"As I said, I'm diversifying. You like, we put a pest in your home. Some people though, personal troll. That's what they want."
"And me? How would I fit..."
"I want you to find them for me... message boards... forums... join them, get to know them, then recruit me the best damn trolls the internet can provide. I'll make it worth your while. And theirs."
This had been several year's back. Since then, Brit's business had flourished, due largely to Reki's aptitude for finding and promoting the best. Troll hunting was now her primary gig, and she'd be the first to admit: she loved it.
Unfortunately, not everyone recognized the value of the answers Reki provided. In monetary terms, least of all.
You can actually survive quite well on gratuities and gratis, if you do it right, relying on trade and payment in kind. For a while. Sort of.
And so. when one of her co-creators (Reki shared a communal working space with a collective of like-minded independents) - when one of her co-creators, a local entrepreneur, asked her if she'd like a full-time gig, she jumped at the opportunity.
"Not likely, I have too many commitments as it is."
"Well...
"Doing what, anyway? Pestering people all hours of the day? I know your kind of work, Brit."
One of this entrepreneur's latest ventures was a small privately owned group of Infestation Consultants passing under the name Dial-a-Pest. The idea was simple. For some people, life was just too good. They worked religiously, brought home massive paychecks, but lead soulless lives.
Brit's company supplied these people with something they were lacking: something to hate.
For a fee, a trained specialist would follow you, learn your habits, likes and dislikes, then find a way to move in to your life. Next door. Whatever. They would irritate you. They would make your life miserable, and you would pay for it because that was what was missing from your life. "Life too good? Dial-a-Pest" was their tagline.
Stop paying and the service goes away, as specified in the terms in the EULA. But people didn't stop paying. People wanted more.
"I'm diversifying. Getting into the internet."
"You have a web presence, don't you? I helped you develop it..."
"Deeper than that. I mean, think about it..."
"Just tell me what you're thinking."
Conversations with Brit typically wound round and round like this. He could spend 15 minutes asking you if you'd like to put on a fresh coffee pot.
"Trolls."
Traditionally, trolls live under bridges. If they see sunlight, they turn into stone. And they can regenerate lost body parts. But these trolls, they live in internet forums, and much like gremlins, you should never feed them.
"Trolls, Brit? Trolls?"
"As I said, I'm diversifying. You like, we put a pest in your home. Some people though, personal troll. That's what they want."
"And me? How would I fit..."
"I want you to find them for me... message boards... forums... join them, get to know them, then recruit me the best damn trolls the internet can provide. I'll make it worth your while. And theirs."
This had been several year's back. Since then, Brit's business had flourished, due largely to Reki's aptitude for finding and promoting the best. Troll hunting was now her primary gig, and she'd be the first to admit: she loved it.
Timebox 1: "Don't Feed The Trolls"
In which some characters are introduced, at least two worlds are aligned, and some gaps are established. The characters, for the most part, will have to fend for themselves.
You should mind the gap, and you should most definitely never feed the trolls.
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