The Adventures Of Hax0r Man

Chapter 7

Hax0r Man goes dancing

by LateBlt

  The greeting Hax0r Man receives from a young man a little younger than
himself is abrupt, and perhaps a little startling, but not altogether
unwelcome. Hax0r Man has been sitting on a bench on the sidewalk, deep in
thought about matrix transformations of 3D wire-frame structures, when he
suddenly hears a bright voice: "Hey guy, what's up?"
  Hax0r Man turns and sees a rather lanky young fellow in loose-fitting
clothing who is either about to ask for money--which Hax0r Man has never had
any of--or so bored that he is bothering to stop and speak to a stranger who
is obviously on such a different plane of thought that he is simply going to
bore the young man further.
  "I'm fine, thank you," Hax0r Man returns, momentarily realizing that he has
answered the wrong question; he has answered the question "How are you?",
when what he really should have said was "Not much," or perhaps "Nothing," or
if he was feeling particularly humorous, annoying, or idiotic today (which he
isn't), "The sky".
  The young man appears to not notice this faux pas, and continues: "You down
for some action, bro? I know a club that's got plenty of it. Me and some buds
are going down there tonight. You look cool, you wanna join us?"
  Hax0r Man is deeply struck by how wrong a person can manage to be without
realizing it. The young man has surreptitiously eyed Hax0r Man's laptop
computer, and incorrectly deduced from this visual evidence that Hax0r Man is
a young, hip person who likes to have fun. Although this is basically correct
(except perhaps for the "hip" part), Hax0r Man feels reasonably certain that
his idea of fun is so very different from that of his new friend that they
are nowhere near comparable.
  It is perhaps not astonishing that Hax0r Man has never been to a club; at
least, not the type of "club" this young man is probably referring to. Hax0r
Man was in several computer clubs at various points of his childhood, but he
doesn't really even need to ask to surmise that this gentleman is not talking
about that kind of club.
  The question scarcely even seems to bear considering. Hax0r Man's first
inclincation is to brush off the young man the same way one would brush off a
telemarketer: As someone who you know is offering you something that, no
matter how much they try to convince you, you will never desire in any shape
or form whatsoever. But Hax0r Man realizes that this may be different. The
young man does not appear to be trying to sell anything; he is actually
doing this out of genuine kindness, a polite gesture toward someone who might
be bored and looking for something to do. Hax0r Man is neither bored nor does
he need anything else to do, but he is briefly touched by this spontaneous
display of thoughtfulness, assuming that's what it is.
  The idea of going to some dance club is, in Hax0r Man's mind, equivalent to
getting a vasectomy or going to prison in Iraq: A human tragedy and
an epitome of suffering in every possible way, yet at the same time, an
experience which some people wonder about, and imagine that maybe, *maybe*,
for just once, it might be interesting to experience it, just so your eyes
will be opened to what really happens in the world's worst places.
  "There are lots of pretty girls there," the young man adds. "You look
smooth, you might be able to find some action in that field too, if that's
what you're after." Hax0r Man is not ugly or unattractive, per se, and like
all real hackers, he is not overweight--he has no time for food. As such, he
could, in a purely physical sense, be found attractive or at least mildly
interesting by someone. However, the chances of a woman--or any person,
actually--being attracted to or interested in Hax0r Man, even as just a
friend, are approximately equivalent to the odds of Britney Spears being
sexually attracted to a fruit fly. Actually, probably even less than that,
because the thing about Britney and the fruit fly is, at least on some plane
of reality, theoretically possible.
  Even so, Hax0r Man does not want to simply turn this guy away--he seems to
believe he's doing something nice for someone, after all, and perhaps he
wants to make a new friend. This thought, combined with a certain morbid
curiosity, leads Hax0r Man to ask "Where is this club you speak of?"
  The young man gives Hax0r Man directions, and after revealing his name to
be Matt, says "I'm gonna be there with my friends around 8:00 tonight. You
wanna swing by, you're welcome."
  "Perhaps I will be at the location you describe at the specified time. If
this should in fact come to pass, my name is Hax0r."
  "Cool name, dude. Never heard that one before. Is that Slavic?"
  "I don't know. It's probably hax0rish or something."
  "Tight. Okay, see you then. Peace."
  And then Hax0r Man is alone (except for his laptop) again on the sidewalk,
feeling strangly as though he has just been sentenced to a firing squad. But
maybe that's just paranoia; maybe it really won't be so bad. Why be negative
about something you've never even experienced before, right? Hax0r Man vows
to give this new experience a shot before he dismisses it. He'll be there.

* * *

  When Hax0r Man arrives at the club that night, he finds Matt outside
speaking to some other people. Matt recognizes Hax0r Man and introduces him
to the others. The group of friends continues talking, while Hax0r Man does
what he usually does when other people are speaking and stands around waiting
for them to finish and thinking about polygon backface culling algorithms.
  "So what kind of music do you like anyway, Hax0r?" Matt asks him after a
while.
  "I like any kind of music. It's all good to me," Hax0r Man says, which is
true, or at least he believes it to be true.
  "Great stuff, man. We've got a little bit of everything here, it's a lot of
club music like you would expect, but there are usually also some hip-hop
beats and some rock if you're into that."
  Hax0r Man isn't sure what any of this means, but he suspects they are
various types of music. "Sounds good," is all he says.
  Finally, all the people who are apparently expected to show up have done
so, and the group of friends decides to go inside. There is a gentleman at
the entrance to the club who appears to be some sort of guard; he speaks
briefly to each person as they go in. When Hax0r Man passes by him, the guard
starts saying something about a "charge", which he apparently requires of
every person before they enter. Hax0r Man has a power supply built into his
shirt, but he's not sure how much of a charge the guard wants. Does he just
want a regular 5-volt DC, or is he after something stronger? He's a big guy,
so he may want some three-phase power. Hax0r Man starts to say something, but
Matt speaks for him: "It's cool, he's with me." The guard nods and gestures
for Hax0r Man to enter the building. Hax0r Man guesses that his charge is no
longer required, so he puts his power leads back into his pocket and walks
inside.
  The music in the building is rather loud and pervasive, but it's not too
bad, although Hax0r Man doesn't recognize any of it. He stands next to Matt
and his circle of friends for a while, wondering what people are supposed to
do here. Hax0r Man waits to see what people are here for, and when he is
finished doing this, he waits some more. And then some more. Whatever people
are here for, it doesn't seem like they are in any great hurry to do it.
Hax0r Man wonders why they are taking so long if the things that happen at
these clubs is so great.
  Finally, Hax0r Man asks Matt what they're supposed to be doing here. "This
is it, man! We're here to chill out. What did you think?"
  "You're here... to do this? To stand or sit in a large room and talk?"
  "Well, yeah dude, mostly. That's what happens when people get together, you
know? You should go around and meet some peeps, there are lots of them here.
Or if you really want something to do, you can go dancing. There's a dance
floor on the other side of the club, see?" Matt points, and sure enough,
Hax0r Man sees a group of people dancing in some area clearly intended for
this very purpose.
  "I don't recognize this music," Hax0r Man says.
  "No worries, man, the DJ takes requests. Just tell him what you wanna hear
and he'll put it on for you. There's also going to be some live stuff later,
that should be really good."
  "Okay. I'll talk to him, thanks."
  Hax0r Man finds the man who is apparently the "DJ" Matt mentioned standing
in front of a console of several instruments Hax0r Man doesn't readily
recognize. There appears to be a sort of computer as part of it, but there
are also several knobs and switches of mysterious purpose, and a very long
keyboard with unmarked keys, most of which are white, but there are smaller
black keys spaced at regular intervals along the keyboard. Hax0r Man surmises
that this man is some kind of wannabe, because those are usually the types
who gravitate towards these showy "unmarked" keyboards, as an effort to
appear cool because they don't need to look at the keyboard as they're
typing.
  "Excuse me, sir. I understand you take requests. Does that mean that you
will play whatever song I desire?"
  "Sure does," the DJ responds. "What did you have in mind?"
  "I don't know... This is really obscure stuff you're playing, it must be
from some new group. Do you have anything from, say, Dreamfish?"
  "Dreamfish? No, never heard of them."
  "You've never heard of Dreamfish?" Hax0r Man is amazed. "Nothing at all?"
  "Nope. Not even one song. What'd they do?"
  "Lots of pieces, they did the most-played remix of the Sanxion music."
  "Sanxion music? What's that?"
  Hax0r Man pauses to look incredulously at the DJ. "You don't know the
theme from Sanxion? You know, by Rob Hubbard?" Hax0r Man hums a few bars as
an aural aid.
  "Haven't heard that one," the DJ says. As an aid to Hax0r Man's selection
process, the DJ proceeds to list some bands that he DOES play music from, and
now it's Hax0r Man's turn to deny having heard any of these names.
  It seems that a very odd sort of music is played here at the club. If this
guy doesn't even know the Sanxion theme, one of the most frequently-played
and covered chiptunes ever made, he must be into really, really indie bands.
But Hax0r Man is into several of the indie composers from the French and
German demo scenes as well, and yet the DJ doesn't seem to carry any of their
stuff either.
  Finally, Hax0r Man says: "What about the Super Mario Brothers theme? Surely
you MUST have that one."
  The DJ laughs. "The little bleepy music from that old video game? Hah, I
remember that game and that music. If you seriously think I carry video game
music, you're dreaming, dude."
  "So what do you play?"
  "Lots of stuff. House, trance, jungle, drum and bass, hip-hop... What are
you into?"
  "I don't know what any of those are. Well, I know what a house and a jungle
is, but I assume you mean as a style of music."
  "Yeah man. Look, if you decide you want something that I actually have, let
me know, 'kay?"
  "Sure."
  Hax0r Man waits to see if some recognizable music will finally come on,
when the "live music" Matt mentioned appears to start. A man carrying a long,
strangely-shaped tool with six strings stretched across it walks onto a
platform of some kind and starts plucking the strings. There is clearly some
kind of amplification at work here, because the sound of the strings being
plucked comes out much louder than could be physically possible unless it
were passing through an amp of some kind. Hax0r Man wonders what this is all
about.
  "What's that guy doing?" Hax0r Man asks another person nearby. "Is he
starting some kind of parade with that big baton of his?"
  "Huh? That's a guitar."
  "A what?"
  "It's a musical instrument, guy. He strums or plucks the strings and it
makes music, see?"
  "That's supposed to be a music?"
  "Uh, yes."
  "But he's not even playing a real instrument. He's not playing a chip, he's
just got some box with strings on it."
  What Hax0r Man has just said is perfectly true, but the guy he's talking to
seems to think this is uproariously funny. He begins laughing too hard to
continue this conversation with Hax0r Man, so Hax0r Man gives up.
  Hax0r Man walks away from the dance floor and goes back to Matt's group of
friends. It appears the only other thing to do here is to drink (which Hax0r
Man does, getting a nice glass of water because it's too late in the evening
for something really hardcore like orange juice) and talk. Hax0r Man isn't
very good at talking, but the people he's with seem willing to help.
  "So what do you do, man? What's been going on with you lately?" asks one of
Matt's friends who tries to start up a conversation with Hax0r Man to be
polite.
  "Oh, lots of things. Most recently I designed a new differential amplifier
circuit which actually had better common-mode rejection than I've ever had on
any circuit that I've made before. I think it may have something to do with
the types of transistors I used. I'm very excited about the possibilities it
opens up."
  "Oh yeah. That sounds really cool."
  "Thank you, yes, I'm very happy about it."
  The evening wears on, and various people appear to have gotten some
impression that they shouldn't speak to Hax0r Man after all, so he ends up
standing in the middle of the floor most of the night waiting for something
to happen. Finally, he figures it's time to go home, so he says goodbye to
Matt, thanks him for the invitation, and walks out.
  "What an odd pattern of behavior," Hax0r Man muses. To simply stand around,
drinking and talking, always acting as if something great were about to
happen, yet knowing that nothing actually *will* happen. It must be a symptom
of non-hax0rdom. Those unfortunate people must be so unfulfilled because of
the lack of hax0ring in their lives that even drinking a glass of water while
listening to music must be an exciting experience. Hax0r Man shakes his head
sadly in sympathy.
  But dancing doesn't sound like such a bad idea. Hax0r Man goes back home,
and then, under a freeway overpass, Hax0r Man dances the night away to the
Super Mario Bros. theme. Going to a club wasn't such a bad experience after
all; just strange. Hax0r Man isn't sure if he's very enlightened for having
gone there, but after jamming to some chiptunes for a while, he knows it's
been a good night.