Woooooooooooooo it’s the month of the pumpkin! And just to keep the Tron Halloween Special on people’s radar, I am submitting for your perusal the prologue to my intended Tron Halloween story:
Fidelity - prologue
The average adult human male masses between 70 to 80 kg. The skin alone can be 9 kg - outweighing the brain six times over - and most of the cells in the body don’t even contain the human genome; gut flora outnumber somatic cells at a ratio of 10 to 1. A single body might contain 10x10^13 cells, or 10x10^26 molecules, or 7x10^27 atoms …
A lot of data to keep track of.
An atom misplaced here or there - one in a few billion-billion-billion - doesn’t mean much to the body. Most of it’s just plain water anyway - nobody notices the loss of an H20 molecule or five. Even the odd wayward signaling molecule - a hormone, maybe a neurotransmitter - could be overlooked, if it doesn’t happen in great number or frequency.
Even something more vital, perhaps a phosphor in a DNA backbone, only MIGHT end in more dramatic consequences. If it doesn’t immediately result in cell death, the body’s self-regulating mechanisms usually catch up to the damage.
The cell itself could be a simple fat cell - the destruction of which could arguably be desired rather than mourned - or part of muscles, bones, or a single taste bud upon the tongue.
Or it could be part of the heart. The liver. It could be neurons in the brain.
How much of an orange can be lost before it ceases to be an orange?
How much can a man lose before he ceases to be himself?
Greetings Programs! While working on a tumblr theme, I found I needed to make a few gifs, and among the first of them was Bit! They all have transparent backgrounds so feel free to use them as emotes and as you will!
I’ve got the Tron feels and I’ve got the Halloween feels. (Even already bought the pumpkin for the season’s first pumpkin pie! \o/)
I’ve also already outlined a story I plan on putting together for October 31 - and wondered if other folks would like to join the holiday spirit. :D Something spooky, something funny, something mysterious, something adorbs … I want eeeeeeeeeverything. Arts, fics, you name it - Halloween sometimes gets short shrift with Thanksgiving and Christmas chasing after it, but let’s give it a proper welcome this year!
You know, I always thought it was a fanfic writer’s euphemism when they said that Rinzler’s “purr” was like the rattle of a hard drive going bad. But today I turned on my backup server for the first time in ages and I hadta suppress a flinch and a reflexive look over my shoulder BECAUSE NOPE IT AIN’T JUST A EUPHEMISM and boy is it not enough that I’m already half-terrified that the server’s gonna croak at any moment now before I can back everything up but now I’m also suffering from Rinzler-related PTSD? :( TRON SAVE ME
“Aren’t you afraid you’ll ever be replaced with computers?"
“Because I can do something computers can’t: I can make mistakes. And in those mistakes is my best work. In those mistakes, in those little variances, in those little bursts of creativity. Now, of course computers are being taught to think… But can you teach a computer to make mistakes?”—Cindy Morgan (aka Queen of my heart)
Tronblr, arise! Troncon 2013 is coming soon, programs! Mark your calenders for July 9th!
In March of this year, 4PM Designs began a Kickstarter campaign to develop custom Tron-themed Bicycle playing cards based on Tron Legacy, a sequel to their popular The Grid deck. The new deck, titled Grid…
Awww, those decks were amazing! Also - YAY TRONCON! CAN’T WAIT! \o/
For Winzler, who wanted something with bits in it (and not the naughty sort):
The un-fired clay form was perfect in every line and angle, and Sam had to wonder if maybe Quorra’s original digital nature was what allowed her that level of precision. “That’s … really amazing,” he said honestly as she applied the final coat of glaze, then beamed happily at the polyhedral form resting on the table before her. “You did that all by hand yourself?”
Before Quorra could take more than a breath, the sculpture abruptly trembled with an odd, muffled electronic blat. Sam stared as - was that a crack that had suddenly fissured down one of the valley edges? But before he could lean closer to check, Quorra abruptly swept the sculpture up. “Hey, wait, that’s not dry yet is it - ” he protested, staring at her wild-eyed expression. No … no way, she couldn’t be hiding inside it a -
"That’s-okay-I-need-to-leave-it-somewhere-else-to-dry-anyway!” Quorra blurted, fleeing. Beneath the over-loud exclamation … had that been yet another electronic bleat?
Sam tried, for a moment, to figure out how a bit would resolve into the real world, and finally gave up when his brain decided on the mental equivalent of a NaN. “Beer … ” he mumbled as he turned for the kitchen. “I think tonight’s a beer night … “
Sorry, sorry, it’s not a real chapter! But man, people were so awesome in responding to the last chapter, that I felt really bad that I wouldn’t be working on the next one in a timely manner due to some personal projects. So, here, hopefully people will find this fun … this was written almost since the beginning of The Sea, but I decided I couldn’t fit it anywhere and so it became an AU of an AU.
I am feeling ranty today so I’ll put this here to unburden my soul, then be done with it. I am also aware that this is a minority opinion so please don’t feel called to defend your like of the stuff I dislike. We’re different, it’s okay. I won’t even tag it.
Here’s why I vastly prefer the original film’s approach to the digital domain and its residents than anything that came after, particularly Uprising: they actually acted, however campy or cheesy the script, like something out of a computer.
The air in the club buzzed with reprocessed energy and the music diffusing from the MP4s in the corner. Programs shuffled around, solitary or in small groups. There were mostly Basics tonight, but the program at the bar was pretty sure the two in the middle booth were ISOs.
The bartender collected the bits he’d laid down and replaced them with his second energy of the night. He was working on a slow night, not looking to get overcharged when he had an early shift next cycle. He just wanted to nurse this last drink and then head back to his circuit to process it before work.
The bartender had tapped a new shipment, from the taste. Pulled from the Eastern Outlands, if the program had his guess. He’d been found there during the Purge and he’d survived the Restoration following the return of the Users long enough to recognize the taste.
He took another pull from the long glass and caught a look off of an admin program coming in from the door. Her brown skin was flushed from the high wind outside and some of her hair had escaped the bun she’d pulled it into. Her eyes had an odd cosmetic patch - fully white, which no break that he could see. He’d never seen anything like it before, and held the look until a word processor stumbled between them on his way to discharge.
I remember, years ago, reading an article lamenting the passing of species that could have benefited mankind, but which were now extinct. One of the prime examples it quoted was exactly the frog mentioned above - a frog that could turn off the gastric/digestive juices in its stomach to safely incubate its brood before turning them on again for normal life function. There had been some small hope that studying this process would allow scientists new ways of controlling and treating stomach-related issues such as ulcers or heartburn … but, of course, the frog was no more and couldn’t be studied anymore.
I never thought that, one day, I’d be reading about its potential return!
I’m very sorry it’s a day (and a half) late. :( Work and real life has been insane lately. But hopefully the fact that it’s been delivered by Christmas eve will help. \o/ Hope you enjoy, and happy holidays!
The blubbery sound was the only preface to the trespasser launching itself at Tron. This time, though, he did not attempt an attack, aborted or not - in fact, he was lucky his disc had not simply slipped from his fingers. As fresh sobs began to rise from the leg it had attached itself to, Tron stared down in mute horror and croaked, “SamFlynn?”