Aha! So that’s why Windows crashed every time I simultaneously used Quicksand Professional and Word for Illiterates. According to the article in Windows Wastrel, the fault lay in my browser, Microscrape’s Naviplorer. And best of all, there was a free fix available on the Internet.

So I launched Naviplorer and waited as it loaded Dial-Up Networking. After several seconds, my modem made a few noises, climaxing in a busy signal. I tried again, to be greeted by silence followed by an error message. Finally, on the third try, music to my ears: My modem and its distant counterpart screeched at each other like a couple of territorial robotic cats.

I was online.

At this point, it was a simple matter of waiting for the Web page to unfurl onscreen as text, GIFs, dancing animations, the haunting strains of the Tijuana Brass, and a new multimedia paradigm called RealJuvenile were transferred over 100-year-old phone lines at a speed that would shame an ox. Then, as the last spinning JavaScript doodad became visible, the connection went the way of Dan Quayle’s career.

I eventually managed to get online long enough to find Microscrape’s Web page, and even start downloading the 127MB patch. Then I realized that the bug fix would be out of date before I finished downloading it.

There had to be a better way. To find out what it was, I dropped in on my friend Mabel, who knows the Internet better than James Cameron understands demographics.

"Lincoln," she said when she opened the door. " I didn’t recognize you off-line." Mabel doesn’t get out much.

After the basic pleasantries and stories about her love life (her latest beau--a 23-year-old bullfighter named Antonio--turned out to be a 56-year-old accountant named Ralph), I got to the point. "Mabel," I said, "I need something faster than a modem. What do you think of ISDN?"

"It’s great if you’ve got too much money and want a 128K modem that breaks down more regularly than a middle-eastern peace talk."

"What would you recommend?" I asked.

"Well," she said, "I’ve got cable modem."

"Really? I hear that’s wonderful. Maybe I can get one."

She shook her head. "Not in your neighborhood. TCC--that’s The Cable Company--had to decide between giving you Internet access or the Leave It To Beaver Network. The Beav won."

"Is there any hope that I’ll get Internet cable access soon?"

"None. In addition to the Beaver problem, TCC is involved in an ugly lawsuit with Microscrape. It seems they signed a contract where TCC is obliged to shoot any customer caught using a competing browser. TCC has been reluctant to follow through on this ever since the FCC insisted that they not bill the customer for the bullet."

"Okay. You don’t recommend ISDN and I can’t get cable. What else is there?"

"Well, there’s always DSL," she said.

"A digital subscriber line?"

"Also known as a Dollar Subtraction Layer. It’s an interesting combination of ISDN and cable modem. Like ISDN, it’s expensive and uses the phone line. Like cable modem, it’s not available in your area."

"What is available in my area?" I asked.

She thought for a minute. "Well, the U.S. Postal Service is working on some new kind of Internet access. As I understand it, there’ll be no monthly fees at all, but you’ll be charged by units of data--some sort of packet system. You click on a link, and the Web page is delivered to your inbox within a two-day period.

"Well, hopefully within a two-day period," she added. "If you want a guarantee that the page will appear in your inbox within 48 hours, you have to pay extra $8. If you pay the $8 and it takes longer than two days, you’re entitled to get angry."

"And that’s the best there is?" I asked.

"Well, no, there’s…" She paused for a moment. "Look, you want to utilize the biggest pipeline going into residential areas, right? I’d recommend the water company."

"For Internet access?"

"Sure. Haven’t you heard of Data Access Moist Processing? DAMP is fascinating stuff; capable of pumping hundreds of cubic feet of data per second into your system."

"What about uploading data?" I asked.

"Flushing? No problem."

"How would I go about getting a DAMP connection?"

"Well, you’d call the water company and make a request. Three weeks later they’d send a plumber to your house to make the connection any time between eight and five on a Sunday night.

"The plumber would open up and hose down your computer, then insert a Saturation Online Access Kard. After testing the SOAK and closing your computer, the plumber would run a pipe from your main sewer line into your computer. Of course, like every form of Internet access, it’s a matter of garbage in/garbage out."

I wasn’t convinced. "Isn’t all that water around electrical equipment dangerous?"

She smiled. "I know at least eight people who’ve installed DAMP connections in their homes, and I haven’t heard a single complaint from any of them. Come to think of it," she added, "I haven’t heard anything from them."

"Maybe I’ll just stick with my modem," I said.

"That’s probably a good idea," she agreed, pushing me out the front door. "It’ s so much easier than having to deal with people face to face."

© Copyright 1998 by Lincoln Spector

Return to main Gigglebytes page