The Great Tech Party

One infernal night, the world’s leading social media websites came to life. And this is what happened next…

December 2012 ended up being the month of delayed tech launches. From the iPhone 5 in South Korea to the Unha-3 rocket in North Korea, from the Grand Theft Auto 5 to the Xbox 720, the festive spirit had obviously slowed things down. Things were no different at USA (Ulhasnagar Spurious Applications), the hotbed of duplicate products.

A deadly trio was to be launched before the year ended - Acebook, a networking site for friends and family, Interest, an online photo-sharing site and EuTube, a video sharing site. And the plan was simple - to overtake the current favourites - Facebook, Pinterest and YouTube - and become the choice of a billion. The delay had been a deterrent, but if the plan could work in December, it could work in January as well, right?

"So what’s this plan?" asked Interest. "Simple," growled Acebook, "We'll bring them all together and then unleash a deadly virus that'll finish them all." "How about inviting them all to a party?" enquired EuTube. "I like that," said Acebook, showing the thumbs up sign. "But what kind of party? We missed the New Year bash."

"Let’s have a great tech party - the kind the world has never seen," replied EuTube, changing channels. "But we've got to keep it young and happening - wouldn't want those 30-plus relics like PC, Mouse and Floppy to land up." "I'm pinning my hope on you guys to do something about it," said Interest. EuTube thought for a while. "Let's have 30 years as a cut-off – only those under 30 will be allowed entry." "Fantastic - I wish I could share this," mused Acebook. And so the day was fixed, invites were forwarded - and the crowd began to land up.

As expected, GooglePlus, Picasa and GMail hung out together. Flickster and MouthShut were huddled in a corner, discussing movies. "Where's Geni?" someone asked. "Sorry, no family types allowed in this party," guffawed EuTube. GoodReads walked in, but left in a huff when Pink Floyd's 'We Don't Need No Education' was blared across the dance floor. LinkedIn felt a bit out of place as it was not a party for the serious types. 

DeviantArt's entry was greeted with sniggers from Instagram and Flickr. "Here comes the arty type," they whispered. MySpace and Orkut stared into their empty glasses, sighing from time to time. "At least, it's not all gloom and doom for us," said Orkut pointing at another corner where Google Buzz, Google Wave and iGoogle were crying into their kerchiefs. "What's that crowd there?" wondered Digg. "Oh, those 140 characters out there? That's Twitter," said Blogger enviously.

EuTube, Acebook and Interest quietly retreated behind Acebook's wall. "Now," Acebook whispered, "let the virus loose." "I already did," Interest whispered back. "Then why is nothing happening?" Acebook wondered aloud. "What could have gone wrong?" asked EuTube, tears streaming down his face in real time. Interest looked around, rapidly capturing pictures of everyone around. "Hey, where's Internet? He's not to be found. All I got was a 404 message..."

EuTube rapidly went through the video footage of the evening. "Hey look, he was here, but the security didn't let him in." "So that's why the virus didn't spread," Acebook commented, "because there was no Internet. And they all got away." "But why didn’t the security guys didn't let him in?" wondered Interest. Acebook turned blue in the face. "Things would have been different had we been launched in December 2012.” “Why?” enquired EuTube.  

“Don’t you know? Internet turned 30 on Jan 1st this year."

The Mayan Job

The secret behind why the world didn't come to an end on 21.12.12 - finally cracked by technology.

The wizened Mayan Chief rubbed his eyes and woke up. D-day was here. The Montes Azules Biosphere Reserve seemed to vibrate with a kind of energy he had never experienced before. He quickly logged into his laptop - he had to send a farewell message to his brothers in the Yucatán Peninsula. His Facebook account came alive –and he stared at the first post on his page with disbelief. 'The end of the world, which was scheduled for 2012, has been postponed due to some technical glitches. You are hereby ordered to carry on with your life until further notice.'

"By the might of Maximon," he roared, invoking the Mayan saint, "I'll have to get to the bottom of this. Get me the Mayan calendar. And somebody who can read it." His deputy looked at him shocked. "I keep going in circles when I try to decipher it," he muttered. "Someone who can interpret codes, perhaps?" his deputy suggested helpfully. "Nah!" the Chief sneered. "There's only one that the world knows of and you saw what he did to the Louvre and the Vatican. Get me someone who can crack computer programs, but has his values intact." "Ah, you mean an ethical hacker," the Deputy quietly sniggered into his Tzute when the Chief wasn't looking. "But why a computer professional?"

"Because," the Chief's voice grew into a whisper, "the ancient Mayan calendar is actually a representation of the world's first analog computer - the Antikythera mechanism. See the concentric circles, the gears and the wheels – while the former is carved in stone, the latter is made of metal." The deputy's jaw dropped onto the fine hand-woven Zapotec rug. "Ok, I'll get on the job," he agreed and was back a few hours later with a man who looked like a Hollywood star.

"Meet Seth Green," he introduced the visitor. The Mayan Chief surveyed him from head to toe. "Is he a certified hacker?" "I don't know about his qualification, but you should have seen him in the movie, The Italian Job. He hacked into Los Angeles' automated traffic system and created..." The Chief cut him off. "What else can he do?" "Well, according to him, he's the real Napster, so he’s the guy we should be thanking for all those years of listening to ‘The Final Countdown’ online in anticipation of the end of the world.”

The Chief nodded sagely and looked at Seth squarely in the eye. "Help us and I'll produce the sequel to The Italian Job for you. I know that the script – The Brazilian Job - has been in cold storage for a while now. But,” he paused, “a tactical change has to be made..." Seth jumped at the offer. "Chill, we’ll call it The Mayan Job from hereon. So what do I need to do?"

"The Mayan calendar was supposed to have predicted the end of the world on 21.12.12, so why didn't it happen?" Seth thought for a while. He then took out his tablet and busied himself with some calculations. "I got it," he jumped up. "Look, your deputy told me that the Mayan calendar was actually a representation of a computer. So you should have looked for the inscription of the date in binary, not as whole numbers. So, 21.12.2012 is written in binary as 10101.1100.11111011100. Since binary has no decimals, you get 10101110011111011100, which when converted to whole numbers is 714716, or 7.1.4716. So the end of the world is not until 4716, which is 2703 years away. Now, could we discuss the budgets for The Mayan Job?"