"Hollywood" Agent Brown's Journal

3:18am: Matrix "Revolutions"
Went to see film with Jones, Smith, Smith, Smith, Smith, Smith, et. all.

Couldn't enjoy most of the movie, as there was someone kicking my seat, possibly a Smith.

Went to complain to the manager, and by the time I got back I had ceased to exist. Whoops.

3:22pm: Yesterday was the Agency-sponsored kareoke night.

agent_johnson's rendition of "Beat It" was rather entertaining.

However, I think we were all disturbed by agent_smith's decision to bring Mr. Anderson on stage and sing "Tainted Love" by Soft Cell. At least he didn't insist on singing a duet with himself.

8:37am: update
Considering changing name to "Agent Willy".

The kitten from earlier continues to follow me. Have left a dish of Powerade for it in the corner of the apartment.

9:56pm: lars.exe
"The longtime opponents of Internet piracy, who sued file-swapping network Napster in federal court, are promoting downloads of their songs via Metallicavault.com, a Web site set to launch Thursday.

But the site will be free only to people who buy the band's upcoming album, "St. Anger," scheduled for release the same day. The CD inset will include a unique code that people can use to access the site's video of live performances and download newly released tracks."

Several days prior to the release of St. Anger, the agency has already commandeered all the web-based content and begun distributing it over major fileswapping networks. I expect Lars to show up at the door any minute now. Will call a clean-up crew just in case things turn ugly. He may be a small man, but he bites and kicks when he's upset. Must get the Lars executable from the archives, too, since he'll probably need to be rebooted.

Yes, the Lars Ulrich you see today is just a backup copy. Come on, people - Mr. Ulrich obviously hasn't been alive since Enter Sandman.

5:25pm: kitty
Found way to intentionally duplicate cats; have been secretly dropping identical felines in front of rebels for the last six hours. Enjoy watching them grow increasingly paranoid only to realize there is nothing different about anything around them. As soon as they start to relax again, I drop another cat in their path. Had one group of rebels convinced that there was an ambush hiding in a row of port-a-johns by the subway station. Watching them try to hold it in was priceless. Last I saw, they were trying to gain entry to the restroom at 7-11 without buying anything. Fat chance. Left several pairs of my shoes in the bathroom, one in each stall, just in case they do get in. With any luck, they'll think they are surrounded.

Considering proposing a new psych warfare division to the Authorities.

Suspect some rebels were ignoring me intentionally, as if they notice me I destroy them mercilessly. Tomorrow, I'll bring a camcorder along so I can tape their reactions. Unfortunately, one of my victims turned out to be Mr. Anderson. Called Johnson; haven't heard back from him since.

One of these young felines will not stop following me. Curious.

5:55am: wtf
agent_johnson gets all the chicks.

Must have something to do with the name.

11:28pm: V. curious about agent_jones' decision to alter program to conform to female parameters.

Perhaps attempt to reduce blowback from Christmas party incident?

V. strange.

Agency email addresses are now functional. I wasn't able to get Microsoft Outlook working, after several attempts. Not sure why Agency computers are equipped with software from a company specifically created by the Program to make humans miserable. Ended up using POP3 function of the vastly superior Opera browser instead.

8:34pm: Eliminated three rebels today during my lunch break. Had sent the Desert Eagle in to be detailed, so I attempted to asphyxiate them with the only thing I had at hand, a bottle of Powerade. Unexpected; the cool, refreshing taste along with its electrolyte-restoring powers made them very difficult to subdue. Eventually clubbed them into submission with nearby simulated poodle.

Note to all prank callers in Zion: agents do not require toilets, and if we did, they would indeed be running. Swear rebels are getting stupider. Must investigate this interesting trend. Suspect Morpheus has been huffing paint lately.

1:29am: in the Matrix, no one can hear you lag
When did agent_jones become female? agentjones better not be spawning unauthorized copies. In a giant simulated universe run by artificial intelligence, bandwidth is the most important resource, and I'm trying to get my Quake on. It may seem like a good idea to moon the copier machine, but just look what happened to Smith.

8:55pm: return
Drink more Powerade!

Forty-six new messages in my inbox, all marked 'important.'

No, I don't need a male unit hard enough to break down walls. No, I don't care that all the really trendy dominatrixes are smoking two cigarettes at a time these days. No, Dr. Chimbuwaka, I will not marry a South African princess to help you launder your 2.6 million dollars. Delete, delete, delete ... hold on.

Smith did what? I go on administrative leave to Australia for a few months and look what happens. Jumping long-haired hippie human scum on a butt-chafing unicycle. Do I have to do everything around here? Luckily, I have one thing Smith will never have: Poweraide. Time to take out the trash.

4:25am: This is Brown.

I haven't updated recently because I've been busy altering Matrix code to let Agents from the local office pick up pirate radio stations through our earpieces. Unfortunately, those damn Christmas carols are still playing on all available frequencies.

For those naive enough to believe the truth is out there, I invite you to start your search here.

3:57pm: walgreens has not been designed with enough mind-numbing minutiae
This is Brown.

I think we will soon be paying a visit to Mr. Fuck.

5:02am: This is Brown.

FROM: BROWN
TO: SMITH
CC: LUNDBERG

ERROR REPORT

Encountered a glitch that caused some core variables in bin/politics/north-america/united-states to loop around to the baseline data circa 1988. Some humans might have vague residual memories about this. Suggest retrieval of more recent data from tape backup when convenient.

Suggest investigation of other minor complications - suspect the brain-wave patterns of expended human "Senator Joseph McCarthy" might be ghosting around as a rogue AI program somewhere.

END

10:32pm: This is Brown.

Livejournal is operational. Finally.

I would've been here earlier had an imposter not taken my name. The need to destroy the human with the hacker alias Agent Brown before registering was negated by my last-minute discovery of the underscore key. "Brown" got lucky this time.

Strange. None of these livejournal stylesheets appear to have been optimized for maximum browser interoperability. Judicious code editing will ensue. In the meantime I suggest a sweep against users with overly cute mood icons. Bouncing kittens and dragons make me want to frag ignorant bystanders like nothing else.

Maybe later. Anyone for Quake?