his is the story of Billy
, the innocent citizen of Sampaville.
Billy was a 15-year old boy living i
n Sampaville, a small city on a great smal
l country on a distant land. Billy was a happy kid
then, as he enjoyed all tha
t life had to offer him. And he was
happy.
One day, Billy was walking of the very mountains of his very
country when he
found a strange thing. It looked like some kind of swamp thin
g, something like
a voomit, kinda black or kinda royal. Then he noticed that th
is thing had some
kind of quasar inside it.
Oh, talked the little Billy, what strange thing is this?
I am what I am, said the thing -- yes, it could talk!
Billy, interested by the things the thingy could know, set do
wn to listen to
him.
I am that one that have never been born, I am that one that
will never die. I
am the one that people want dead, and I am the one that peopl
e have liked
someday, someway, said the thingy to a surprised Billy.
I cant understand, said Billy. You say people liked you b
ut people want you
dead. Did you make some mistake or something?, asked Billy.
I have made no mistakes. I have modifyed myself to the diffi
culties of time. I
have expanded, I have got world-wide known, I have got binary
, I have got
monochrome. I was big, I was wide, I was tiny, I was fine.
Oh, said Billy, You say I WAS. Aint you anymore?
People dont like me anymore, said the thingy sadly. I hav
e served them, and
they dont want me anymore.
Explain more, please!, asked Billy.
Ok, said the thing with a smile on its ..hum, face. I shal
l explain you.
I was born many years ago, I was born as a simple and small
combination of
things I call bits. Bits made up Bytes, and of Bytes I was fo
rmed, said the
thingy.
Billy could not understand.
Bytes were characters, and characters made me. While a chara
cter alone is
nothing, characters together are everything. With that charac
ters, I had one
thousand faces, I had one million faces, I had one billion fa
ces - and unlimitedI was. Some people like you could h
andle me well - and if they were good, they
could see one of the many faces I had.
As time passed, continued the thing, I learnt more and mor
e. I gained
features, and color was one of them. With that, people could
see my faces in a
happiest style. With this, I could make people smile. Colors
are good.
I like colors, said Billy. Dont colors make people happy?
Dont they
like you anymore?, asked Billy again!
They dont like my colors anymore, said the thing, sad agai
n. I have few
colors. Now, they have one million more colors, said the thi
ng on tears.
Oh, said Billy, almost crying too. Well, can you show me h
ow you was then?,
asked Billy.
Show me I will, said the crap.
The thing then started to move, to shake, to condensate, and
it formed some
strange form. Billy could read something then.
OLDSCA.. what does this mean?!, asked Billy.
Old School, said the thing seriously. People called this O
ld School.
Seen pretty nice, said Billy. I like it.
Well, people liked it. But it wasnt sufficient, said the t
hing.
So what happened!?!?!?!, asked Billy.
Calm down, continued the thing. I will tell you what happe
nned.
As time passed, more people started to like me and to comuni
cate with me. They
learn how to master me, and they could show many of my greate
st faces to the
world, said the thing, showing to have great oratory skills.
Then, they created this, said the thing, as they started to
transformate
again.
WOA! This seems pretty nice!@, said Billy in surprise. How
do you call this
one?, asked him.
New school, said him. Many of the people like you have lik
ed thid one. They
have trained. They have learned how to master me, and they ha
ve represented me
in many ways. Many have done that, and they did like me.
Well, I guess that, if many have liked you, they cant hate
you now, because
of everything youve done to them. So why do they forget you
now?, asked Billy
again.
They have gave up. They have been forgotten. And unfortunate
lly, I am beeing
forgotten too. I guess soon just a few will ever know me., s
aid the thing,
extremely seriously.
You said soon. Well, so someone still knows and likes you!
How do they see
you now?, asked Billy a poor english.
They see me like this, said the thing. And then, transforma
ting and doing
some movements that looked like too difficult for him to hand
le, the thing
changed into a new form.
rs
W0AA!@, said the little Billy. This one is VERY kewl, at
hought a bit
disgusting and unreadable. How do you call this?, asked him.
This have no name, but you can call this Weird School. That
s what it this.
They dont care anymore about format, about size or anything.
They do anything,
and the result is still very good, answered the thing.
So you dont like this, youre sad because of this weird sch
ool. Am I right?,
asked Billy.
No, you are not, said the thing. I, in fact, like this for
mat very much. It
is the newest format they could do with me, and I like to be
modern. What I
fear is the fact they dont want me anymore. They are substit
uting me.
?!?!?!?
During the last years, I have been serving them. Now they ki
ck me, because
they have better things. They have better formats. They have
more colors. They
have more tools. They have more uses to it, said the thing.
Oh! We have to do something!@ We have t..
NO. We will do nothing, said the thing, interrupting Billy.
This is our
destiny, mine and yours. If this technology is here to substi
tute me, it will.
But.., said Billy.
No butts. This is our destiny. Just promise me something, s
aid it.
Well OK! What?, asked Billy.
Promise me you will NEVER ever forget me. Promise me you wil
l remember how
much did I served you. Remember me as a technology that, at m
y time, have made
your life beautiful. Colorful. Whatever the school., asked i
t.
Well OK I PROMISE!, said Billy with sure.
Thanks, said the thing, with a smile on its mouth.
Just one more thing, asked Billy.
Yes?
Whats your name?, asked him, smiling.
Oh, said the thing. Sorry, I forgot to tell you. I have a
complex name that
does not mean what I am. But you can use my nickname. You cal
l me ANSI., said
the thing, with a happy and colorful face.
Ok, said Billy. I will never forget you. I promise.
Thanks, said the thing again. I am very thankful to you,
it repeated.
And so do I, said Billy while the thing started to go away.
The moral of the story: some stuff are good, some stuff are g
reat, but they
are great in their very own context. Do not mess ANSI with VG
A, for they are
very different in use and context.
THE END
Story by Rorshack thats just some sick stuff that came out
of my mind in a
single step
Note: Sorry for the english, sometimes I really dont care ab
out it.