Saturday February 25, 2006
#1 on Google for Tom Haynes Two weeks ago, I was the second entry for 'Tom Haynes' on Google.com. I wrote about it in Finding Myself on Google.
Well, I'm now number one and two. The first is this blog. I've checked on and off for a couple of years - call it vanity or call it a deep rooted interest in search (a large basis of my dissertation). I've never gotten this close to the top.
Now to work on getting higher in Yahoo!, I'm only fourth there. :->
Batter Up Batter Up
by
Tom Haynes
Copyright 20003,2004,2006 - All rights reserved by the author.
Obviously this was written before the Red Sox won the world series. The story felt complete to me originally, but in looking back at it, I think it just sets up the character for later use. I don't really get the impression that Vaughn's character is set and that we know him. On the other hand, I do feel that Logan Fox in The Nanovampire is set. I understand where he is going and perhaps even where he has been. In many ways, Logan is James Bondish. He is set in his ways, comfortable with himself, and on top of the world. With Vaughn, the story is still to unfold.
One of the reasons I don't feel this story is complete is I just re-read A Wolf and his Boy. That reminded me of how I develop stories - I feel weak with dialog so I tend to develop either characters or the plot. I then go and backfill in the dialog. In cutting and pasting in the first installment, there is no dialog.
That could be because I was trying to keep the story compact and under a certain word count. I certainly had scenes in mind which could have been added or adapted for this story.
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Science Fiction Vampire Baseball
BU - ESPN Highlights Batter Up
by
Tom Haynes
Copyright 20003,2004,2006 - All rights reserved by the author.
This guy was munching down on my neck, why? Hell, I know he's a vampire,
but of all the ball players in the world, why was he feeding off of me?
I knew one way or the other my life was over. You know that old cliche,
that your life passes before you at the end, well it's only partially
true; I got the highlights. I'm thinking it had something to do with
too many late night rehashes of my life on either ESPN or the Biography
channel.
My father was weird, on the one hand he liked Joseph Heller, and on the
other, he liked Frank Sinatra, hence, my name. My mother was too wise to
"Von", but in a fit of desperation, "Vaughn" stuck. At least I didn't
have to find out in school that I wasn't who I thought I was.
Anyway, I can't carry a note if my life depended on it, but I did join
the Army for a little while. I spent four glorious years leading the
cadets on the diamond and cruising through an EE degree. I'm one of the
only people in the world who got drafted to get out of the Army. I went
in as a mediocre shortstop/pitcher and emerged as the darling of the
College World Series. Since West Point had never even won its conference,
my hitting stood out even more. My fastball was called "The Express".
The Yankees drafted me in the first round, hoping to get me out of my
commitment as an Officer and a Gentleman. While the rest of my class
were honing their skills in farm clubs, I was eating up Airborne and
Ranger training - I had gone 11 Bravo. I spent the next season in Iraq
and took a bullet to my throwing shoulder. My wound even made ESPN, but
not how I got it. Luckily, by then, the media was jaded by the whole
Jessica Lynch thing and Sammy Sosa's corking at that point. I got the
Silver Star for the first part of the action and shunted into black ops
for the second part of that action. If it hadn't been for the second part,
when I got wounded, I probably would have gotten the Congressional Medal
of Honor. To this day, the SARS virus is still the officially listed
cause of wiping out that base, and the village next to it.
I spent all of the next season training and working in Afghanistan. The
training was pretty basic, just don't feel anything as you kill your
fellow man. Anyway, they rushed me through their brainwashing too fast -
parts of it didn't stick. I'd already lost all qualms about killing,
it was the win at all costs attitude which I had trouble condoning. The
training I had gotten in the Regular Army all stressed team work and
not letting your buddies down. The CIA training was supposed to wipe
that crap out of my system.
I had been sent back to Iraq and joined up with an established unit. We
had been sent in to torture some brother of a palace guard into revealing
information that should have lead to Saddam. They strung out a platoon
of Rangers as a perimeter and told them we were raiding a "Weapons of
Mass Destruction" site. Anyway, we had barely started pulling this guy's
fingernails when all hell broke out; guess he really knew something. As a
mob of guerrillas opened up on us, the first shot went through the brain
of our prisoner. We pulled out, the Rangers, hell it was my old unit,
providing cover fire.
We got back to the LZ and the real Company man told the LT in charge of
the Rangers that their chopper was late, but on the way. We had struck
pay dirt, the first real lead on the weapons, and by the way, could they
provide a perimeter as we took off? The greenie saluted and order his
men back into the night.
As we took off, I heard the pilot ask the man if he was to go back for
the platoon after dropping us off; the other chopper had been called away
to deliver some steak to some General's party. The man shrugged and said
he wasn't wasting a perfectly good chopper on some grunts. I guess the
pilot had been doing this longer than I had, he laughed and said okay.
The .45 took off half the man's face. I swear the damn pilot must have
stained himself. I knew what was going to happen, but we still dropped
halfway to the deck. I informed the pilot of the change of plans and he
swung us back to the LZ. I got on the horn and advised Control that the
Major had been hit by a stray bullet from the ground and that we were
going back for the platoon. They tried to wave me off. I told them that
their man had left the prisoner back with the grunts and I hadn't heard
the location of Saddam. I got ordered back at that point.
The pilot wasn't happy, but I told him I could maybe walk away from
a tree top drop but he wasn't walking away from what happened to the
major. He dodged some SAMs and got us back to the LZ. When we landed,
I saw the men were pinned down. The door gunner's guts were spilling
out all over the grass by then.
I strapped the pilot's hands down and put some C4 timed for 10 minutes
behind his head. I told him if I didn't make it back, he better get
one of the Rangers to free him. I wove my way into the thick of things
and managed to bring back most of my men. We brought back the LT too,
he'd taken a nasty cut from some shrapnel.
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BFTP - Mana Bolts from the Blue Blast from the Past
by
Tom Haynes
Copyright 1999,2000,2006 - All rights reserved by the author.
Bit Brain shouted that Tenney was on the way. The traffic level and
the fact that the Johnson had radioed his pilots to leave had finally
spurred her into action. One pilot was dead and the rest were wearing
kill collars. Bit Brain had come up with the idea: couple some
explosive gel and a receiver to a collar. If the person with the
transmitter either triggered the device or failed to heartbeat an okay
signal every five minutes, the collar exploded and severed the head
off of the prisoner.
Evidently one of the pilots thought he was indispensable and was going
to obey the Johnson. After Tenney shot him and put the kill collars on
the others, she revealed to them that she was our rigger. We had to
secure a LZ and take out any AA the Paladins had in the area.
I don't know how many times I felt hell broke loose that night, but
next to C'gull's arrival, what happened next was the most
impressive. He used his reanimation trick to control that damned
dragon. At first I thought it was still alive and was going to attack
us again. Then I saw the grin on C'gull's face and I knew the
Paladins were truly fragged.
The zombie-like dragon better work, because he used up most of that
white light to bring it back to life. He started to fling mana bolt
after mana bolt at the Paladins. Not only was he trying to spend all
of the white light, I got the feeling he truly enjoyed fragging
elves. "Garbo, help me expend it. Every abomination on the face of
the planet will be drawn here. We need to get rid of it and get as
far away from here as possible."
"We've got air transport, ETA is another minute. They'll be coming
out of the south, keep the dragon and your bolts away from
them. They'll be like the APC you took out earlier, but flying." I
told him as I started to expend the mana bolts. Not knowing who else
from my old circle was out there, I was casting sleep spells. I also
diverted some of it to form some water elementals. We were far from
the nearest river, lake, or ocean, but I tapped into the underground
springs I could feel. I directed the elementals towards the
approaching hellhounds. "When the Sarge pops off some purple smoke,
the copters will land. Get aboard the nearest one."
Just when things started to look up, I heard the whine of approaching
copters. Problem was that they sounded too heavy to be our tickets
out of here. The Kid spotted them first, heavy attack
copters. "C'gull, see those ones east of us, those are not ours. Get
that dragon over there and keep them busy." I could see the raw
willpower flow from C'gull to the zombie dragon. It broke from where
it kept little brother's squad at bay and banked over towards the
attack copters.
Bit Brain signaled that the force that had been diverted to the beta
force would soon overrun us. I could see our copters approaching from
the southwest. "C'gull, the ones from the southwest, they're our only
hope out of this jam. Three more minutes and we are toast, you hear
me?" I asked him. I saw him nod his head and then he cast one last
spell, which used up the rest of the white light. I don't know what
he did, but I could feel something get ripped out of Gorgie's being. I
knew it was she as her soulless body screamed in agony. All of the
Raiders, and most of the Paladins for that matter, stood transfixed
like she was a Siren. Then she started to advance against little
brother's position. I could sense the Paladins in his elite company
melting away into the night.
The last fraggin hellhound broke through my last water elemental just
as the Sarge popped off the smoke grenade. Most of the paladins had
their heads down in case C'gull decided to cast a mana bolt at
them. They must have been scared out of their gourds at the rate at
which he had been pumping them out. How were they supposed to know
the white light had been fueling the both of us?
Also, Gorgie was sill pouring a deadly stream of lead, I think it was
lead, into little brother's formation. My senses were either so
pumped up or the high levels of mana and white light had me reaching
talents that would normally stay dormant for years to come, that I
could feel the anger and frustration radiating from him. I could also
sense the fear that radiated from the Paladins when they beheld Gorgie
storm their positions.
Finally, the dragon had taken out two of the attack copters and the
remaining two were practically dancing across the sky with it as they
dueled. I doubt the pilots knew that the dragon had died minutes ago,
for if they had, they might also have broken formation. They must have
thought it double-crossed them in some dragon scheme.
All that did not matter if we didn't take care of the
hellhound. "C'gull, the hound!" I warned him. He turned towards
the hound and Gorgie stopped her advance by spinning around. She
started back towards the LZ, spraying the hellhound with bullets. I
knew then that C'gull had meant to abandon her as a rearguard action.
Not that he wanted to insure our getaway, no; he just wanted her to
kill as many fraggin elves as she could before she was destroyed. He
must have it really bad against elvenkind.
Bit Brain was stowing the Mark VII in one of the copters and the rest
of the squad was already aboard the copters. I gave Tenney the thumbs
up and seriously thought about abandoning C'gull to his fate. He
wasn't a chummer, but I couldn't do it anyway. Maybe it was the
knowledge that he must have made a living out of revenge, maybe it was
the fear that I wasn't sure the Paladins would grease him, maybe it
was the hope he could help the Red Raiders, maybe it was the fear my
old man would get his hands on him and then me, or maybe it was the
fact that he had just saved our hoops and we owed him big time, but
whatever the reason, I was not about to leave him behind.
A mana bolt streaked out of the night and hit C'gull dead in the
chest. He staggered backwards and flipped to the ground as a second
one hit him in the neck. A fireball ripped through the night as the
dragon took out the third attack copter. Gorgie sliced the last
hellhound in half.
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NV - part 8 The Nanovampire
by
Tom Haynes
Copyright 2004,2006 - All rights reserved by the author.
The flight was pretty much uneventful, until I caught the Navy
plane dogging my trail. Turning off the lights had paid off, I had
a witness. The body had cooled, so the thermals should register only
myself. I waited until I was four nautical miles from the coast and I dove
down, juking like I was trying to loose some imagined observer. After
I had leveled out, I engaged the autopilot to take the plane west,
propped the real pilot in a normal position, and propelled myself out
of the door. The plane would crash sooner or later and the fishes could
have a meal.
I tucked myself into a cannonball, covering my bag, the contents of which
were inside several layers of garbage bags. To be honest, I didn't care
about the wealth represented by the drugs, it just made it a little easier
to get started on my own hunt for my makers. I was more concerned about
the PDA surviving the strain. I balled up in order to look more like a
large bale. I knew the Coast Guard would have a cutter here pretty soon,
so I braced for the impact and a quick recovery.
The fall hurt, I jumped about two hundred feet off of the deck, I didn't
want to risk the plane crashing too close by and it felt I was going
through concrete when I plunged into the ocean. I felt my back break,
which was my worst fear, and I just kept sinking. I had counted on them
neither seeing a chute nor a metallic echo from a tank. I'd seen the La
Quebrada cliff divers easily do the 136 feet into the surf, so I made
sure to go from a higher height. I had meant to straighten out at the
last minute, but my timing was off and I landed on my back.
My contingency plan kicked in and the mites started to work on repairing
my back. Once the numbness started tingling, I started swimming North,
I had learned to tell direction from the magnetic fields. I had practiced
in the bath tub, so I knew my friends could filter the oxygen out of
the water. I never even felt the cold.
It took me three hours until I finally dragged myself up on a beach. I'd
done better times in Triathlon events, but then I trained for weeks and
I was unencumbered. My clothes were dry and as I put them on, I felt
the shakes, I needed to eat, I had to repay my friends. I knew I should
have eaten the pilot, but I needed a body in the wreckage to throw off
the hounds.
While I can will my body to change, I have to know what the critters
can do in order to ask them. The only way they communicate with me is if
I'm in mortal danger or if they are hungry. I get the feeling they live
off of me until either they poison me for them or I run out of fuel. I'm
not so sure they can transition to another host.
It was then I found out what subsonic hearing must be like for a bat. I
stubbed a toe and uttered a "Damn!". I never heard it, but I could hear
sound reflections from the ping which went out. I quickly picked up that
I could use this sonar to augment my already strong night vision. As I
started pinging up and down the coast, playing with my new toy, I quickly
discovered a beach blanket party about a half mile to the East.
Once I knew it was there, it was easy to focus in on the camp fire,
smoldering to ashes. I drew in a deep breath and I caught the faintest
whiff of teen spirit; two couples, some beer, and finally the remains of a
fish dinner. I started jogging toward my own meal. When I got to the camp,
I almost laughed at the irony, they were necking. They looked barely old
enough to drive, but I could see the old VW bus parked off by the road.
They didn't have a clue I was here and while four was too many, I wasn't
going to leave a witness. What the hey, I picked New Orleans thanks to
all the Gothic vampire posers who flocked to the city. One of the couples
grabbed a sleeping bag, giggled a "See ya later." to the other couple, and
moved further down the beach. I waited until the closer couple relaxed,
they were waiting to see if the other two would return and surprise them,
and then I sprang my trap. I placed an iron claw over the mouth of the
one on the bottom and snapped the neck of the one on the top. As the
girl suffocated, I quickly sated the shakes that were threatening to
wrack my body.
With the edge off, I took my time to drain the girl while she was still
alive - the taste was more electric and much more satisfying. I had
wanted to land quietly, to not announce my arrival, but since I had to
feed, I had to decide whether or not to let the other two live. If I took
them, I could delay for some time my discovery. But if I let them live,
I could start the myth rolling. Someone swooped in, drank the blood of
their friends under their noses, and left.
I had to do it and I had to steal the car so they would know how long it
had been. Luckily for them, the girl morsel had the keys and it started
on the first crank. I drove off into the night and my legend was born.
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Article proofs arrived from ;login I just got the article proof to read from ;login. This was the article which was supposed to be about my experience with OpenSolaris and wont - the wonder machine. Instead it became an opinion piece about Sun and OpenSolaris.
Anyway, the latest issue of ;login had just come out and my article was not in it. I was depressed. Then I got email from Rik Farrow asking about my status on the next article, the nViadia nForce drivers for SATA are still screwy. The developers are working on a new code base and rightfully do not want to fix bugs in the old code base.
I said I could still do that article. And then the proofs arrived a couple of hours later. I am exicited.
I'm also off to Connectathon bright and early in the morning.
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Sun OpenSolaris Solaris
NV - part 7 The Nanovampire
by
Tom Haynes
Copyright 2004,2006 - All rights reserved by the author.
I needed to get as far away from the hotel as possible, so when I came out
the lobby, I pulled a cab driver out of his ride and stole it. I knew I
couldn't go far in it, but that was just fine with me. I went a couple of
miles and ditched it in the parking lot of another hotel. I crossed the
street and entered another hotel. I headed straight to the restaurant,
ducking into a restroom at the last minute. Inside, I quickly changed
into some light slacks and a loud tropical shirt.
The wallets had some ready cash and I only started grinning after I
explored the bag. Evidently the gang used it to smuggle drugs and money. I
found $10k in small bills snuggled between two uncut bricks of cocaine. My
choices were to either ditch the drugs and launder everything here in
Mexico at a loss or smuggle the stuff myself into the US. I needed some
time to think.
I didn't want to let my guard down again - the local Federales
were probably not as stupid as most Americans wanted to believe. I
had the money and the density of tourists in my favor, but I had no
documentation. I needed a place to hide for a few days while I planned
my entrance to the US. As I washed up, something caught my eye in the
mirror - the hotel was also on Cozumel.
I hopped onto one of the many buses and went down to the ferry in Playa
del Carmen. Once I got to the island, my main problem was still my lack
of a passport. But, I had been absorbing the dialect on the ferry except
for the couple of minutes I had spent in the bathroom. I had found a
mirror and I willed my blond hair to be both thicker and darker. As it
started to change, I also started on my tan and a slight ethnic fold
to my eyes. Soon, I was the spitting image of Santiago, whose Mexican
driver's license was still in his wallet.
I checked my fingernails, no sign of hunger. I knew the nanomites must
be sated, but I didn't know how much energy the transformation was going
to take. At all costs I wanted to avoid feeding on the ferry and the
island for that matter.
So I spent a couple of days lounging in the sun as Santiago, plotting my
return to my homeland. I found I still enjoyed human food, it seemed to
fuel the original body needs. I knew it was time to plan moving on when
the succulent swordfish started tasting slightly like sawdust.
My plan was simple, I would ape the vampire portrayed in Hollywood
and feed at night. During the day, I would travel and be a gentleman
adventurer. I could not hunt during the day, too many people were awake
and it would be too easy to get inadvertently caught.
My fiasco with Santiago and his buddies had taught me the valuable
lesson that while I might be next to immortal, I was not next to
invulnerable. But, I could use the vampiric myth to direct attention
away from myself.
I knew where I could get fake US identification, even down here in
Cozumel, but I instinctively knew that was a bad idea, that whomever
had created me would follow those trails. Likewise, crossing over as
Santiago was a risk I was not willing to take; I wanted some room to
breath, to get a head start on my pursuers.
So, I spent my nights in the bars near the airports until I found my
patsy, a pilot down on his luck. He ran a charter from Galveston, but
he had a wife there and one down here. Business had been good until
he took the second wife, now he was struggling. I used $5k to entice
him into a late night run to the US. He thought I was smuggling drugs,
I even showed him the coke. He could be DEA, but they wouldn't touch
me until he touched down.
When the nails started to spot, I went out and did the preflight check
with him, I told him I wanted to learn to fly. I made sure the tanks were
topped and a little bit after sunset, we took off. I let him meander
a little on the way NW and then asked him if I could try some level
flight. He tried to say no and I said I'd like to do it every time I
chartered him. That settled it, the $5k had been spent and he still had
to placate the first wife.
He turned the stick over to me and I kept it mainly level. After he
relaxed, I asked him for a drink. As he leaned over the seat to get a
cold one, I flipped the autopilot on and had a warm one. I didn't want
to leave any real forensic evidence, so I made sure not to eat him, not
even a finger. I turned the lights off, I didn't need them, and headed
in a more northerly direction, for New Orleans.
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Science Fiction
BFTP - She's Alive! Blast from the Past
by
Tom Haynes
Copyright 1999,2000,2006 - All rights reserved by the author.
A fresh wave of Paladins attacked us from the flank. I laid down
suppressive fire and called out to Bit Brain, "We've got a chance of
escaping with our lives, so either get Tenney here on the double or
bring that Mark VII back." He started to comply and then bent over
almost double, retching up his last meal. "Gas masks!" I yelled and
then felt like a dolt. We hadn't been able to restock on all our
supplies. We had cut the corner on the masks.
C'gull turned to face the flanking Paladins and began to chant. I
could not make out much of what he said, once again he spoke in that
strange dialect, but I did hear him call out to Garlen and I heard a
reference to the ancient Wyrm Wood. The roses, which up to now had
been unassuming, started to quiver and all of a sudden the bushes
started thriving into a mad pattern. The individual branches started
to flail and wrap themselves about the nearest Elf extremity. Their
blood started to weep from the sting of the thorns. I don't know why,
but the sight sickened me deep into my core. I saw it also repulsed
my fellow elves.
I heard the Sarge crashing back through the undergrowth. His eyes
were white and he was babbling. I thought it was due to the brambles,
but then I followed his gaze and I looked over were Gorgie had been.
Both halves of the body were floating two feet off of the ground. Some
of that drekin white light was hovering over the body and pouring into
the eyes. The bullets, which had split Gorgie in two, were forming
giant stitches, sewing the body back together.
Now, I've been tutored in some of the more arcane lore of magic.
Father had sent me to MIT&T for postgraduate work and then brought in
some of his oldest friends to round out my education. I even spent a
summer with Dunkelzahn. Father had me summon an eldritch spirit with
some of my blood, so I knew all about blood magic and the dangers it
posed. Then some tours of duty with the Red Raiders in the bayou,
Aztlan border skirmishes, and an extraction from Chicago had given me
more practical experience than I cared for with the darker side of
magic.
I nearly lost it as C'gull, it could only have been him, created some
sort of undead creature out of one of my oldest friend's corpse. What
he did should have been impossible and also should have damned his
soul forever. I even quickly scanned C'gull's aura and could not see
any of the tell tale signs of blood magic. There were also no signs
of cybernetic augmentation. The sword and the wand pulsed, slightly
off color; they had to be artifacts.
A gut-wrenching scream pierced the night air and the writhing creature
that had been Gorgie looked at her heavy weapon and directed some of
the white light at the fire control computer. I could barely focus on
it, but I sensed the circuitry healing itself. She stood up and
opened fire on the flanking Paladins. Some died under that opening
barrage and more broke from the sight of Gorgie charging their
position.
The rest of the white light flowed back into the circle behind
C'gull. It was about a third of the diameter it had started at. I
doubted he could go back through. In the back of my mind, I knew he
was deliberately burning that bridge behind him. For whatever reason,
he was here to stay. Knowing what I did about the astral realms, I
started to question my decision to bring him here. There were certain
horrors that I did not want to be responsible for unleashing on the
world. If he were what I feared, then Pandora would be remembered
fondly for what she had unleashed.
I calmed down a bit when I recalled his aura, he was definitely
human. I had seen Dunkelzahn in his human form and I could tell from
his aura that he was not really human. I was better at reading auras
than were most adepts - I could tell a shaman's totem by examining their
aura.
I decided to conduct an experiment, I reached out with my will and
grabbed some of the white light. As I pulled it across to me, I could
feel C'gull allowing it to leave. It felt like mana, only more
primal. Where mana felt like life force, this stuff truly felt
alive. I quickly cast the most minor healing spell I knew and thrust
the energy at the Sarge. Not only did it heal his knee, I could feel
it reverse the degenerative nerve damage the Sarge had suffered at
Cooleye Junction.
I then used the white light to whip the gas over towards the Paladins. As
I sped it along, I changed it such that it was now a contact agent and
not an inhalant. I knew the Paladins were wearing nose plugs, but they
did not have NBC suits on.
The baying of the hounds announced both their arrival and that of the
remaining two-thirds of the original force. Drek and more drek!
"C'gull, do you have any more rabbits up your sleeve?" I asked our
erstwhile savior to be.
"Why would I have a rabbit up my sleeve? Do you need it for a
summoning?" he replied. How long had he been in the other realms?
Was he asleep the whole time? What had I gotten myself into?
"Any more tricks? The sight of Gorgie advancing on them is not going
to hold back the reserves." I think he got my point. He glanced
around, taking stock of the situation. It looked like he considered
using the APC, but I think it just confused him. He then inscribed a
pentacle around himself, waved his wand, and flames starting dancing
at the points of the figure. He started chanting, all the while with
bullets dancing about him.
We were running low on ammo. I don't even know what Gorgie was using
for ammunition. She never paused to reload and any bullet that hit
her quickly formed into a stitch to repair any damage it caused. For
the most part, we were staying low, only coming out of cover to shoot
where the Mark VII directed our fire. Gorgie was mopping up their
forces, but I could feel their mages working on her.
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Before and After shots If you go to fluideffect, you can see some wonderful photo editing. Select 'portfolio', then 'agree', and then start with 'before/after'.
Honestly, I can't tell if they are adding fake 'realism' or touching things up. The William Petersen one is a good example of something I think they touched up. But when they move arms (see Tom Cruise) or remove flesh (see Nichole Richie), I suspend doubt. Perhaps that is just a sign of their skill.
By the way, I think the cowgirl is Jessica Biel. Hmm, look at her on the set of the "The Texas Chainsaw Massacre". Yes, it is she...
My wife took a recent photo of me. The glare and pores of it remind me of some of the before pictures (see the one of John Cusack). Which is in favor of the site being real.
All in all, a fun waste of some time.
Laptop is on Nevada b34 I just updated my Fujitsu P7010D to Nevada b34:
[th199096@unknown ~]> uname -a
SunOS unknown 5.11 snv_34 i86pc i386 i86pc
And this snippet is from a ssh session over the wireless ethernet!
[th199096@unknown ~]> ifconfig -a
lo0: flags=2001000849 mtu 8232 index 1
inet 127.0.0.1 netmask ff000000
rtls0: flags=1004843 mtu 1500 index 2
inet 192.168.2.4 netmask ffffff00 broadcast 192.168.2.255
ath0: flags=1004843 mtu 1500 index 4
inet 192.168.2.5 netmask ffffff00 broadcast 192.168.2.255
Okay, I probably need to update /usr/sfw and for sure I need to get off of the 1024x728 @ 60Hz. Uggh.
And I need to find a way to get the Intel 855 resolution patch into my system. Time for bed.
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