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A Grad Student Who Knew Too Much

Berkey, at the start of our daylong interview.

On a brisk October morning in Brookline, a graduate student announced that he was an expert at something, to the total  indifference of his friends, peers and vague associates.

The student was reported to Chronicle.SU by a local informant and subsequently identified by spiteful classmates as first year Benjamin Berkey. Berkey, an enthusiast of the dark witch house music scene, tacitly agreed to make a phone statement to me by making dozens of unsolicited calls to the office of The Soviet Chronicle.

“I’ve read many thick tomes so, like Prodicus, I’ve become adept at choosing words. Often I finish sentences for other people in more exact ways than they ever could have expressed themselves. So, I’ve decided to go on a mission for total exactitude in language. Any time anyone strays from the Oxford Dictionary definition of a word, I will correct them in public in an elitist fashion. This will have innumerable social benefits.”

Berkey then invited me to watch him do his work across town to his sparsely furnished Allston apartment. I spent the next eight hours watching him gruel over a footnote, intermittently taking breaks to masturbate and troll the Internet with obscure semantic and grammatical criticisms.

“Work is hard, but I spend every second of every day knowing that I’m making a difference and growing intellectually. I’ve got a bright future and will surely finish my program with a good job. Not many people can say that these days.”

He then agreed to show me his favorite local coffee shop, where he ordered us espressos only to reject them several times due to “the quality of the crema.”

The barista eventually gave up and told us to fuck ourselves. We took a seat in the back of the checker-floored bar, next to a group of bicycle messengers playing bones.

One of the messengers from the group next to us.

As we sat down, one of the dudes among them, a pierced courier wearing a Brooklyn cycling cap, put the finishing touches on a lengthy monologue.

“…and that just begs the question, ‘Is McInnes libertard or not?'”

“Excuse me, sir,” interjected Berkey, “but I believe that you’ve made a mistake. The expression ‘begs the question’ does not in fact designate something that raises questions, but instead refers to an instance of circular reasoning. Be warned.”

The messenger looked over at him and his septum piercing flicked a little spark of a glint in the light. A pug-faced drunken crusty messenger appeared from among the group.

“Why you gotta be a bitch, man? Nobody asked you, faggot. Nobody spoke to you.”

The altercation deeply shocked Berkey, who became horribly insulted. He began to shake and then suddenly walked out of the coffee bar and refused to answer subsequent calls to his cellphone.

I never heard from him again.

RIP, Benjamin Berkey

Update: Several weeks after our encounter, The Boston Globe reported that Berkey had disappeared without a trace. Even more strangely, authorities declined to open an investigation into his disappearance. His family’s attempts to sue the Boston Police Department were bizarrely dismissed in a similar fashion. And in a final twist, my dumbfounded reading of the report to The Chronicle office occasioned a smile in our editor, Kilgore Trout.

“Yeah, the sergeant at Boston PD actually clued me in weeks ago. Benjamin Berkey was administratively arrested as part of a law enforcement operation targeting known gang members and associates.”

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Law Technology

CHRONICLE.SU EXCLUSIVE Interview With Topiary – From Prison

Topiary
Topiary offered Chronicle.SU a chance to set the record straight on why he has turned himself in.

San Francisco — Topiary, who recently turned himself in, awaits trial inside Folsom Prison. The “face of LulzSec” continues to speak from behind his twitter account, but inside sources report anyone speaking on behalf of LulzSec is only a stand-in, as they have all been arrested.

Topiary is a longtime friend of the Chronicle.SU and requested that we interview him from prison to ensure clarity and fairness are upheld as the Sec-saga unfolds.

Here with us today is Topiary, manager of the LulzSec Twitter feed, as well as the individual who wrote on The Sun’s website without their permission and crashes Chronicle.SU pirate pads “for the lulz.”

Chronicle.SU: Topiary, why did you turn yourself in?

Topiary: As you know, Amy Winehouse was recently b& from life and that’s been weighing on me. Just got tired of trolling goatse sites and reviewing the same old Shawshank Redemption .avi over and over again. Time has a way of catching up with you, ya know? My time is now. So I’m here.

.SU: Yes, Amy Winehouse’s death was undoubtedly tragic to someone. So what’s next? Do you have legal representation?

Top: Well, forwarded me a pastebin of a list of lawyers compiled by Barrett Brown, but every phone number on that list is disconnected. No, I gotta take that back. Wait just a second. The second number on that list, did point to an attorney. It was the McDougal County Public Defender’s office. Without asking who I was, he tried to wager me into his betting pool. I had someone on the outside hack me some good odds on Curiosity’s Bubble in the dog races Friday, so we’ll see what’s up. Thanks, Barrett.

.SU: So, you’ve elected to defend yourself?

Top: Oh, no worries man. Just between you, me and your readers – lol nobody reads this shit anyway right? – Just between us, I’ve got my evidence together, don’t you worry. Exhibit A is the judge’s email account.

.SU: Sounds like a good strategy. What sort of plea bargain are you looking to extort from His Honor?

Top: Probation, a little community service.

.SU: Wait, what about the cross-dressing and the sodomy you requested? You were quoted by TFI as saying, “Ima make that Casey Anthony bitch look like a passing fad.” Where will your ass-traffic come from?

Top: They’ll probably ask me to dox th3j35t3r. So far the DoJ has informed me he’s become quite a pain in their asses – a real embarrassment. Well my ears perked up when I heard “pain in their asses.” I thought, ‘Why not me? I want pain there. In my ass!’ It’s all part of the plea deal I’m writing up. You’ll see it published on the prison website after I SQL-inject that shit. So refresh hourly. And yeah, he’s a try-hard so I guess I’ll gladly oblige. I already know him, actually. We invented him, so it shouldn’t be any big deal, we’ll just deactivate the Twitter account and call it a day. He’s not even a human being. Just some AI chatbot compiled from repurposed Cleverbot coding and Yahoo! spambots designed to lure you into their camsites.

.SU: Word the fuck up to that. Well I’m glad you’re done talking about it because I was having real trouble giving a shit.

Top: Mind if I smoke a j?

.SU: Bunny.

Top: ‘Scuse me?

.SU: Bunny Lebowski… She is the light of my life. Are you surprised at my tears, sir?

Top: Fuckin’ A.

.SU: When’s the trial?

Top: Tomorrow.

.SU: You goin’?

Top: Nah.

.SU: Will you autograph my t-shirt?

Top: We’re done here. Good luck kicking the habit, guys. Send my regards to Barrett Brown, and tell him I said the same.

And at that, Topiary’s personal guard arrived with a black vibrating strap-on, already switched on, flopping hilariously with his hip movements. Carrying Topiary away, cradled like a baby, the guard whispered sacred secrets into his right ear. Topiary looked back at Old Brutus and beamed furtively in his direction, then spit up on the guard’s shoulder just before disappearing into the annals of Folsom Prison.

Categories
Law Local новости

America Finally Closes Its Borders

Close Borders NowCasa Grande, Ariz.– The predominantly white inhabitants of suburban Casa Grande paraded through the streets Friday celebrating the announcement of the closing of all the Borders in the country.

Shortly before the announcement, leader of the White Brotherhood Southern Arizona Chapter Harold Smith heard rumors of Borders closing. Harold gathered his people together in a Border’s bookstore parking lot at the mall – because it is a good place to meet, he said, and they have plenty of parking today for some reason.

Harold stood on the tailgate of his pickup truck in front of a jubilant crowd at their Patriot Rally and declared, “We will finally be free from the sub-human scum a the earth – who push our health care costs higher. I mean, shit. I might not go to the dentist, but bitch, these cheeseburgers ain’t doin’ my heart no favors!” The crowd laughed and applauded.

“He’s too much!” guffawed Stevie Hargrove, 40, a toothless overalls-clad spot-welder from Tucson. Stevie clapped at every opportunity, beaming a gummy smile up to his leader, squinting through matted, sweaty hair into Harold’s silhouette against the sun.

America finally closes its Borders

Harold continued. “And I ain’t got no insurance because Obama wanted to force me to get it and how d’you think he’s gonna pay for that? That Moslem was gon’ tax the wealthy to pay for it, that’s how; so I don’t even fucken want it!” The crowd again erupted into a frenzy of whistles and cheers just as a vein burst in Harold’s forehead, spraying crimson hate into the yawning mouths and down the throats of onlooking slack-jawed hillbillies whose thirst for identity only grew drier under the bottomless black ocean of beer-soaked convictions swirling unseen in Harold’s cold, beady eyes. A rainbow formed under the blood mist spewing forth from the man’s skull, and at the end of it sat a Confederate flag, perched in the grass, with a little sticker on its miniature flagpole that read, “Made in China.”

“And that brown uncivilized scum who keeps minimum wages artificially high by taking low pay for jobs that was originally intended for everyday Americans like me and Bo! Jobs like mopping up coffee shops, unloadin’ book trucks and washing the walls inside a the killhouses.”

At that, Smith’s crowd of white nationalists almost did not hear the news update over the ruckus of their own hate-filled fervor, as some frothed at the mouth and fell to their knees, speaking in tongues. But for those who could read, the closed captioning on the JumboTron News Report said everything [if it said anything].

A fictitious TV news program that actually broadcasts real news reported:

Because of mismanagement and glaring lack of foresight, Borders Bookstores all across America are shutting down permanently. Infamous for carrying only mainstream authors, and notorious for grossly overestimating the number of orange people willing to read Snooki’s biography – Border’s Inc. lowered literary standards faster than anyone could possibly write a book about it. Yet, here you are celebrating your racism underneath a giant flat-screen TV. Don’t act like you’re upset. Nothing changed. You don’t even read.

Dumbfounded mouth-breathers all across America stood solemnly, Budweiser in hand, making not a sound. For two minutes they stood, reflecting on their own hatred; but hatred of what, exactly, became unclear. A small child clutching a teddy bear to her chest tugged at her mother’s dress. “Mummy? You mean they ain’t relocatin’ dem filtty wetbacks?” But her mother was too grief-stricken to answer.

Good Old Fashioned Hate Rally
The only thing these rednecks hate more than non-whites is reading books.

Quietly they to stood until local pig farmer Jerry Pritchard, 48, broke the silence.

“Well,” Jerry started. “I hate books, too. I mean, shit. I like the Bible! Hell, who doesn’t. But you guys know what I mean. I mean, fucken … books, man.” Jerry’s detestation was met with groans of agreement, though many people were still visibly confused by the notion of a store specializing in the sale of bound paper.

Jerry licked his lips, picked up his courage and spoke again. “You guys still wanna…” Jerry clasped his hands together behind his back and toed a boot in a wide arc in the sand. “…Still wanna drag somebody behind my truck?”

The crowd again frothed and wriggled through the congregation of pickup trucks toward Jerry’s truck, chanting U-S-A and someone came up with “George Snorwell” which was repeated several times from within the group. Only the intellectual rednecks who got the reference laughed. The others just went along with it.

“But before we go,” Jerry continued, “I want to stop by Borders’ clearance sale. Larry th’Cable Guy’s thing is 40% off!”

G’HYUK!!