My machine is getting smaller. I don't even know what it does.

I know what it is, it's an RBU 188.

An RBU 188.X, actually. That X is thought to make a big...a significant difference.

Thought by me. No-one has ever actually told me it makes a significant difference, or what that difference is, but one can read the signs. I mean, they don't put an X after a period for no reason, do they? They're not a bunch of college professors or something - money's involved. Ergo, X makes a difference. It's not rocket science.

Well, maybe it is rocket science. The company...the entity...that makes my machine could be involved in rocket science for all I know. If not now, then potentially. In the future. I mean, the machine could probably be used in some aspect thereof. Why not?

Whoooooosh!

But the thing is, it's getting so small it's becoming hard to read the little messages. French radio rewrite man. Now, that can't be the message, can it? See what I mean. I mean, there's no such function, or if there were, why would it be on my machine? No, it's just a question of eyesight, human eyesight. Maybe I should be smaller...smaller and more focused.

Soon I'll have to dive down into the kingdom of the ants to navigate this thing. The King of the Ants will be looking down at me.

No, I'm giving way to defeatism. I'm programming myself with self-defeating messages.

What did that say? User Norplant Select Keypads?

Wasn't that the birth control device they stuck in your arm? Can't be right.

I'm beginning to think I don't have a future here. I mean, how small can it get? Maybe I can get a job as an information consultant with the King of the Ants.

There...what did that say?

Whoooooosh!

g.farnum@french-rogers.com