92 lines
3.4 KiB
HTML
92 lines
3.4 KiB
HTML
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<!DOCTYPE html>
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<title>vague posting</title>
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<header>
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Sometimes I just want to complain about everything.
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</header>
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<style>
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body {
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display: flex; flex-flow: column nowrap;
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justify-content: center;
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align-items: center;
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width: 100vw; min-height: 100vh;
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margin: 0; padding: 0;
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font: 18px/1.5 sans-serif;
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}
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header {
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max-width: 70ch; height: 100vh;
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padding: 1ch;margin: 0 auto;
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font: italic 118px/1.5
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"Lucida Handwriting",
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serif;
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}
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p { margin: 1em 3em; }
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#i{position:fixed;top:0;right:0;color:gray;
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font:12px monospace;
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background: white;
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padding: 1em;
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}
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#i::before{content:"<"}
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</style>
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<p>
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There is a store in the mall outside of town
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called <q>Complainers</q> that sells these little cheap rubber toys
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that cry when squeezed, real, salty tears.
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Nobody knows how the tears come to be inside the toys,
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or how they keep generating the tears,
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and nobody really wants to ask.
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<p>
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There's a vague idea going around that someone in south Asia
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cried, hopefully while watching a sad movie,
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hopefully not during any period of actual duress,
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into the Complainer toys, though the regenerative nature of the tears
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pokes holes in that theory.
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<p>
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There's another thought that there's witchcraft or something involved,
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but everyone's decided that's altogether too silly to be seriously considered.
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Everyone knows magic isn't real;
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if anything, the company, which is a subsidiary of a tech giant,
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has used the Complainers to test new and emerging teleportation technology
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which transports the tears from the faces of whoever's crying them
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into the toys in real time.
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There are some strange hard knobs in the toys that lend credence
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to the teleportation theory,
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but no one can figure out why a company would demo a new technology
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in this way.
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<p>
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Adding to the sense of intrigue and mystery surrounding the Complainers
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is that none of the employees have ever been seen,
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except for the eccentric General Manager, Rusty Waters,
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who gives occasional press conferences that cannot help but call to mind
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the opening factory scenes of <i>Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory</i>.
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Of course, this has led to rampant speculation that there are Oompa-Loompas
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or similar people working in the factories,
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but of course, that theory can also be dismissed out of hand
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under the same general ideas as can the theory about magic.
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<p>
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Of course, none of the theories mattered after
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the Complainers started oozing acid instead of salty tears,
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burning the hands, arms, bodies and faces of hundreds of thousands of
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children, many of whom had begun sleeping with their Complainers
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to have something to blame when they wet the bed.
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The public was incensed by the health crisis,
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and demanded the heads of the heads of the FDA, the company,
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the company that owned the company, the countries where Complainers were made,
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the countries where they were sold, and all the retail stores that carried
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the now-caustic toys.
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<p>
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Of course, the governments and the Complainers company worked out a deal:
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a fine was paid.
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Promises were made.
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Wrists were slapped.
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The product was removed from shelves.
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The world sighed a collective sigh of relief,
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none quite so large as the managers of the company,
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who'd never expected their prototypes to become as successful as they were,
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and who now had a lucrative business manufacturing bootleg Complainers
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to sell to the thriving collection market online.
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<a id=i href="index.html">return</a>
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