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I've just pushed out my first version of expandable comments! They may still be a little rough around the edges, but you are welcome to try them out.

As for the nerdy details, the scripts are using jQuery to pull the raw comments in JSON format from the server. The two HTML5 slider elements control the display thresholds. Comments that are under the "Hide" threshold are completely hidden. Comments that are under the "Expand" threshold are collapsed. The rest of the comments are shown in full. Collapsed comments show the subject text + the first line of body text. You can click on any collapsed comment to expand it.

For those that prefer to be script free, I will offer an "Enable JavaScript" checkbox in the user settings page. Unchecking this option will present you with server-side-generated pages instead of the JavaScript enabled pages.

Wonder how much I would have to bribe someone to get an insanely high user number. Some number in the hundreds of billions would do. Trillions or more would be better, but it would need to be in scientific notation. Damn near NO ONE would actually count the zeros. Errr - wait - there probably are anal retentive geeks out there. Or obsessive compulsive nerds. Yeah, some few would count the digits.

Anyway - with some crazy high number, I can post from the far distant future. Infuriating nonsense, like, "Yes, Apple is still around today. They haven't innovated anything for centuries though. About all that's left of Apple, is their manufacturing facility in orbit around Mars, where they make a few specialty items for the Chinese Space Marines."

YES!! ICANHAZJOURNAL!

Of course, knowing me, this may very well be the last entry I ever make in the journal.

Chapter One
Previously...

Hangover
        I woke up with the worst hangover I had in years. Damn, that wine. I usually drank beer and I hadn't drank any at all in a few weeks.
        I didn't want to get out of the spinning bed, but I really had to pee bad. I staggered into the head and peed like forever. I wanted coffee. Damn, I was going to have to make coffee, the robots suck at making coffee. I hate robot coffee.
        I put on a robe and stumbled into the kitchen - and smelled coffee. It took a few seconds for my hungover eyes that I hadn't really used since I woke up, and in fact maybe I was still asleep, to see Destiny and two cups of coffee on the table.
        What a woman!
        "You're not hung over?" I said.
        "Hungover? I'm still drunk."
        I sipped my coffee. "What time is it?"
        The table said "The present time is..."
        "I wasn't talking to you, computer."
        Destiny laughed. "I don't know what time it is. Tuesday, maybe?"
        "Computer."
        "Waiting for input."
        Who programs these stupid things, anyway? "What damned time is it?"
        "The damned time is oh eight fifty seven."
        Shit, who programs... SHIT, I got fifteen minutes to get to the pilot room.
        "Shit!" I said. "I'm sorry, honey, I have to run."
        "Shouldn't you put some pants on first?"
        "I'm wearing a robe, I gotta go." I kissed her. "Bye." I ran to the pilot room, coffee mug in hand.
        I got there with two minutes to spare. All the readouts were nominal, which is egghead space talk for "everything is normal." At least, I think that's what it means.
        I went back to my quarters, kissed Destiny, put on some pants, filled my mug back up, and went on the morning inspection while little men with jackhammers were busy inside my head making my brain hurt.
        The reduced gravity didn't make my head less light or my stomach less queasy.
        I inspected the passengers' quarters first, since they were up front. Except Tammy's, of course. Passengers deserved privacy.
        After the little incident with the explosion I checked the rooms a little closer than I had been. Yeah, the doors stay locked but who knows what these drug-addled whores know? I couldn't even tell a whore from a real woman, look at Destiny, I thought she was a whore at first, just because she was cargo.
        I'd billeted Destiny in the closest cargo quarters to the passengers, but it hadn't mattered since she'd only went there once after the takeoff. She's been in my quarters since.
        This was the part I hated. I knocked on the door. Hell, I didn't have to since they were cargo but I don't want to be any more of an asshole than I have to. In some situations you have no choice, you got to be an asshole.
        I'm a boat captain, I'm used to being an asshole. I don't like it, but it's a shitty part of a great job.
        "Who is it and what do you want? I ain't got no drops, bitch."
        "It's Captain Knoll. I'm doing ship inspection. May I come in?"
        "No. Fuck off, asshole."
        "Door, open." The door opened and I went in. She was naked. "I don't have to be polite, dumbass. I just am. I'll skip it from now on if you prefer assholes."
        "I ain't got no drops, bitch."
        Gee, I've been hearing that a lot lately, and usually from one whore to another. "I ain't looking for drops. Just routine, damage or danger of damage."
        "I ain't got no drops, bitch."
        "Whatever."
        As I left for the next apartment two naked whores passed me, laughing. It was the two Thai chicks laughing about the fat blonde whose name I can never remember. Hell, there's two hundred of 'em and I ain't went to college or nothing.
        Lately it had gotten to where the only people on the boat who wore clothes were me, Destiny, and that Tammy girl.
        Nobody else was home, except Kathy and Dawn, who just yelled "come in" when I knocked and kept on playing with each other's pussy while I did my inspection.
        I'd skipped the infirmary and commons, I'd check them when I got back. They were between cargo and passenger quarters.
        Next was the engines, and they never had anything wrong with them. They should keep them in a vacuum, I thought, because I never once found a problem during an inspection and it didn't keep the engines on that Saturn run going.
        That Saturn run... that's why I stopped doing cargo. Lot of good my inspections did there. Jesus, that's a long time to be alone, I almost went crazy. I almost quit, but headquarters said I'd have passenger runs.
        It isn't like the boat stops moving when the engines stop. It's worse. You keep going but have no way to maneuver, you just keep going at the speed you were when the engines stop and they have to come to you to tow you to port.
        I checked out all of the shit my tablet told me to check out and walked back to the infirmary. Next time I'm on Earth I'm getting a bicycle or something, this is a big damned boat.
        "Hi, Billie."
        "Um, yeah, I am" she said, looking at the IV tube.
        "Don't get too used to it," I said. "You won't be in here long."
        "Well, I guess if I want to get high I'll hurt myself!"
        "Nope, that's up to me. Next time it's naproxin."
        While I was there I got some naproxin myself; my head was still throbbing but my stomach wasn't as bad. Now to inspect the commons.
        The commons area was huge, an eighth the size of the entire passengers deck with a full automated kitchen.
        It was full of naked whores.
        Half of them were practically begging me to have sex with them. Man, if it weren't for Destiny I'd be having a hell of an orgy right now. I hurried my ass back to my cabin when the inspection was over as fast as I could.
        Destiny was sleeping, so I figured I'd go over the inventory list. The maid would be noisy in about ten minutes.
        Right before the noisy damned machine showed up an alarm went off. Damn. DAMN! Fucking whores!
        But this time it wasn't the whores, it was a distress call from another ship. "Knolls, here," I said to the tablet. "How can I help?"
        I didn't know how far away the other boat was but it would probably take at least a minute for the signal to get to it unless it was really close. I laid the tablet down and opened a beer. Hair of the dog, you know. Halfway through the beer I decided to return the favor for Destiny; she was going to want coffee when she woke up, so I made a pot.
        The rackity machine came in and started noisily cleaning. Destiny woke up. "Damn, that thing's noisy," she said. "Do I smell coffee?"
        I handed her a cup and sat down next to her. "Thanks," she said "What do you want to do today..."
        The tablet interrupted her. "Captain Knolls? Is that you, John? Kelly here. Thank God somebody's in range. I'm about thirty light seconds behind you and one of my engines shorted out. It didn't leave enough fuel for me to make the Mars landing. I'm just coasting, so I'm going to be weeks late. Can you spare a couple of batteries?"
        Hey, it was Bill Kelly, an old friend driving one of our company boats. I'd known Kelly for years. "Wild Bill" they'd called him, even though he wasn't very wild at all.
        "Hey, Bill, sorry about your luck. Yeah, of course I can spare a few batteries, you might even have enough charge that you won't be too late. I'll go dead stop for a while so you can catch me."
        "Boat captains sure are busy," Destiny said.
        "Sorry, hon."
        I spoke into the tablet again. "Attention passenger and cargo. We will be enduring a short period of weightlessness, so be prepared. Captain Knolls out."
        "I don't think I've ever been weightless before," Destiny said.
        I grinned. "Get a barf bag, it upsets some folks' stomachs. I have to go to the pilot room. I'll be back shortly." I kissed her, threw the beer can at the noisy maid and walked to the pilot room.

This is a crude, rough draft of an upcoming book that is less than 10% finished. Continues

A lot of Slashdot refugees ended up on Usenet before SoylentNews was up and running. Many of us joined up here as soon as open registration started, but most have also continued to participate on Usenet as well. We kind of made comp.misc our home base, but we've started to use misc.news.internet.discuss as well (mostly for non-computer subjects), and some are also frequenting alt.folklore.computers and other groups.

If you haven't stopped by yet, please come check it out. If you like it here, you should feel right at home there. The easiest way to get started, especially if your haven't been on Usenet in a while (or ever) would probably be to visit http://squte.com/, which provides a Slash-like interface to all the newsgroups mentioned above (and then some).

Come check it out, and make sure comp.misc is the first group you visit!

Chapter One
Previously...

Fire!
        "Shit!" I said. "A fire! Oh, hell!" I took off running toward the burning cabin. I heard screams as I approached the door. Horrible, blood-curdling screams of terrible pain. And then, even worse - the screams abruptly stopped.
        The door wouldn't open. "Computer," I said to the tablet. "Open that damned door, there's someone in there that's hurt."
        "Unable to comply," it said.
        "Reason?"
        "Danger to the ship and cargo, crew, and passenger."
        "GOD DAMN IT!" I yelled. "There's a woman dying in there."
        "Containment in approximately two minutes." This must be a bad one for the automatic suppression to take hold – but of course, since the cabin was occupied it couldn't just let all the air out like if the engine room had caught fire.
        "OPEN THAT GODDAMNED DOOR!" I screamed.
        "Unable to comply" the computer answered programitically. God damend piece of shit computer! God DAMN it!
        A cot rolled up behind me and the door opened, air rushing into the smoke-filled quarters, its pressure already lowered but not enough to harm a person. The cot lifted the woman, who I recognized as the Billie whore, on itself. It put an oxygen mask over her face and a needle in her arm and she and the cot left for the infirmary.
        I walked around and saw what caused the fire – the stupid whore was trying to make an ancient drug called "methamphetamine". Even on Earth making that shit is dangerous, in space it's a fucking crazy menace. I guessed that since she couldn't get angel tears she figured she'd make a substitute, as if all drugs were alike or something. Dumb whore.
        My fone buzzed; it was Destiny. "Is everything OK?"
        "Yeah, sugar, just one of those stupid whores trying to get high. Blew up her quarters and burned herself up pretty good."
        I went outside. As soon as I closed the door I could hear the smoky air being blown out to space. Maids were already waiting outside the door to clean up the mess. I started walking back home. A dozen whores were coming down the hallway towards me. "What's going on?"
        "Billie blew herself up trying to make drugs," I said. "I catch anybody else doing that and they're in deep shit. Now excuse me."
        Wait! Is she OK?"
        It was that one broad, the one that was fighting with Billie the first week. Apparently they'd not only made up, but were lovers. Lesbian hookers? That don't make no sense to me, but I ain't went to college. The bunch of them went on to the infirmary and I went back to drink some wine with Destiny.
        The robots would take care of Billie.
        As I walked back to my cabin I pulled out my fone and hailed the ship's communication stuff. "Attention, ladies," I said. "There has been a fire caused by someone really, really stupid. Pay attention, now. If I catch any open flames whatever, the lady with the fire is locked up 'til we get to Mars. So if you're going to try to make drugs, you damned well better not need fire to do it. And even if you don't use fire if I catch you with drugs you're alone until we get there. So be good."
        As I passed the commons there were two naked women having oral sex with each other. "Hey, you two. Get a room," I growled. What was wrong with these whores?
        They ignored me.
        "You wanna be locked up?"
        "Fuck off, Joe."
        "That's Captain Knoll to you," I said, and pulled out my taser.
        "You're an asshole."
        "Get. Both of you. You're alone the next twenty four hours."
        They weren't paying me enough for this shit. Fucking droppers!
        Well, Destiny would cheer me up, she always did. I was pretty cheerful when I got back.
        "Took you long enough," she said slyly.
        "Oh, them whores," I said. "I had to lock a couple up."
        "What did they do?"
        "They were eating each other, I told 'em to go somewhere else and they told me to fuck off. Look, hon, there's two hundred of them and they act like feral children. They'll take over if I let 'em."
        "Feral?" she grinned.
        "You're rubbing off on me, Brainiac!"
        She giggled. "Here, I got some cheese while you were gone."
        I picked up my glass. "To cheese!"
        She laughed. "I'll drink to that. Want to watch something?"
        "Nah, put on some music and we'll cuddle."
        "Cuddle?"
        "Well, I know where cuddling goes."

This is a crude, rough draft of an upcoming book that is less than 10% finished. Continues.

I posted reruns from fifteen years ago at my slashdot journal. New material will be posted here at Soylent first.

NOTE: This is just a draft copy of my post, likely still incomplete. Once edited and reviewed, I'll post to the main index.

Ok, so first, I want to apologize that this is a few days late. Due to real life insanity (involving, but not limited to, 30 hours of flying, horrible jetlag, and seasickness), I wasn't able to get this discussion started when I promised, so please accept my deepest apologizes. Anyway, here's the moderation discussion, as promised. I've made it clear multiple times that the current algo is something of a temporary hack. I've been reading comments on my journal, and on the articles we've had discussing in-depth.

Before we begin, there are a couple of things I'd like to go into first before we go into rewriting the algorithm. A lot of people have suggested alternative moderation systems (i.e., something Reddit like, or a tag-based system) instead of trying to "fix" slash's system. While I'm not inherently object to replacing moderation wholesale, it would require someone to actually implement a new system, get it setup somewhere, let people review it, and then perhaps roll it out to the site. As the saying goes, talk is cheap. I'm personally not going to replace what I see as a "good enough" system without the community deciding that they want it, and that requires that said system exists to be evaluated. If someone is seriously interested in still perusing this, I invite them to drop by #dev, and discuss it 1:1.

*big exhale*

Right, now that we got that out of the way, I'd like to address what I've seen the biggest concerns towards moderation. I recommend that people read my writeup about the current system before diving in, as I will be referring that post considerably.

I've got some pretty graphs here that show how points are being spread through the system, and that, for the most part moderation is mostly working as adversed.

*FIXME, put graphs here*

Point expiration: Oh boy, people really have let me know about this one. I've written a fair bit about this, but to sum-up, modpoints with a short half-life *are* a good thing. On Soylent, we post upwards of 10-20 articles a day, and once an article is no longer in the "top 10" so to speak, the number of new comments essentially drops into single digits. With a smaller userbase, we need lots of mod points in circulation to make the system work, and even then, generally half to 3/4th of all modpoints expire out without being used.

*graph to points expiration table*

That's not to say that the current four hour period isn't short. My largest concern at the moment is that any large increases of mod point expiration has something of a cascading effect. At any given moment, we have a specific number of slots of people who can be moderators, and if someone doesn't bother to moderate at all, that slot is effectively taken until the points go "POOF". I'm tentatively willing to increase the duration to six hours, to relief some of this pressure, and then see how moderation spreads are affected. Any large scale increases in the expiration however means making more of the userbase eligible to moderate at a given time. I'm open to thoughts on this one.

Chapter One
Previously...

Confession
          I'd brought a bottle of wine from the storeroom and almost dropped it. "Destiny! Oh God, no! Not you!"
          "Huh?" she said with a concerned look on her face. "What's wrong, John?"
          "What's wrong? You're a dropper! Oh, God..." I was devastated.
          She looked at the dropper and laughed. "These aren't angel tears, silly, they're antibiotics."
          "Antibiotics? What, you got pinkeye?"
          She laughed. "Don't worry, I don't have any diseases. I had lens implants put in my eyes before we left. I have to put these in my eyes once a week for six months. It was three times a day for the first week and once a day for the first month. It's just to prevent infection."
          "Why did you have to get Implants?"
          "I was nearsighted, my vision was 20/40. I had a little astigmatism, too. These new lenses are great, they're like having strong binoculars and a built in microscope. I never would have believed how sharp and clear everything would be. I can see a blood cell, and the doctor said I should be able to see Earth's moon from Mars if the planets' orbits are close."
          "Wow. Did it hurt?"
          "Did what hurt?"
          "The surgery."
          "No, it's painless. You don't feel a thing."
          "Still," I said, "I'd have just worn contacts rather than let somebody stick needles in my eyes."
          "Well, I used to wear them but they said they'd get in the way on Mars. And I can see so good now... I'm really glad I had the procedure."
          Procedure. Folks who went to college talk like that. I thought of something... "You told me once you were planning on taking advantage of me. How and why?"
          "Oh, John, you're going to hate me."
          "Well, look, you already confessed."
          She sighed. "I work for the company. My job was supposed to keep the whores from taking over your ship. But I didn't expect to like you so much. Actually, at all. They told me you were an asshole."
          I laughed. "I am!"
          "Is that for me?" she said, looking at the wine.
          "It's for us. Got a screw and glasses?"
          "Robot, screw and glasses" she said. A square box with rounded corners wheeled across the room with two wine glasses sitting on top of it. I set the bottle on it and the thing opened and poured the wine. I started to take a sip.
          "You have to let it breathe," she said.
          "I gotta what?"
          She laughed. "Let it sit for a couple of minutes. It'll taste better."
          "You never did tell me why you were going to Mars," I said.
          "I'm an astronomer. There's too much light on Earth, there hasn't been a useful telescope there for a century. So it was the moon or Mars, and they have plenty of people on the moon. Mars isn't just short of women, it's short of everything. Almost everybody there is a scientist; there's no unemployment on Mars at all. It needs more robots, too. It needs more everything. It's a real frontier, I think it's really exciting, like an adventure."
          Adventure? It was old hat to me. I'd made the Mars trip lots of times. Now Saturn, that was an adventure. I'd been on my way back from Titan one trip and the damned engines quit and the robots couldn't fix them. I had to wait six damned months for a tow tug and I'd almost made it home when the boat crapped out on me.
          Mars was usually a six month trip, but it was on the opposite side of the sun and we were going to be gone a year and a half. That's a long time to put up with dropless whores.
          Destiny raised her glass. "To Mars!" she said.
          "Nah," I replied. "To us."
          She smiled. "I'll drink to that!"
          An alarm went off. It never fails. I grabbed my tablet.
          Shit! A fire!

This is a crude, rough draft of an upcoming book that is less than 10% finished. Continues...

Chapter One
Previously...

Drops
          I'd been with Destiny for a month and a half now. We were talking over coffee before I had to go to work.
          Yeah, my job is work. I have to go to the pilot room and make sure we weren't going the wrong way, then I have to inspect the whole ship, and I have a pretty big boat. You think the people part is big? It's tiny. Yeah, the cabins are like apartments but storage and machinery takes up ninety percent of boats.
          And I had to inspect all of it except the passenger quarters, and I only had one passenger. Twice a day. It's a lot of walking, believe me. Even though we only have three quarters gravity; we get the gravity from acceleration. When we get more than halfway there the boat will turn around and we'll have the same kind of weird gravity until we get there.
          Anyway, I asked her if she was really going to be a hooker. She giggled. "You're not going to turn me in to the company, are you?"
          Shit. "Uh, what? I mean, turn you in for what?"
          "You'll keep it a secret? If you can't we're done."
          Shit Shit Shit Shit Shit.
          "Yeah." Sweat was running down my cheek.
          "Ok, John, I have no intention of becoming a hooker. I just signed up because it was the cheapest way to get to Mars."
          "But your contract..."
          "Cheaper to break than buying passage. I have a pretty good lawyer, John. She teaches me stuff."
          "Well, OK" I said. "As long as nobody knows, I don't know. Kinda wish you hadn't told me."
          "I don't want to keep secrets from you, John. I think I'm in love."
          "Lets get married!"
          "Lets take it a little slower, OK, John?"
          "I guess," I said. "Better go to work."
          "See you, lover," she said, kissing me. God but I liked this woman.
          The pilot room was close to the Captain's quarters, of course. Hah! Captain! My crew were a bunch of robots and other machines, I only had one passenger and my cargo was whores.
          Shit.
          While I was walking through the boat I heard cats. What the hell? There weren't supposed to be any cats in my boat, but it sounded like two of them were in here fighting. I ran toward the sound, which was coming from the Commons.
          It wasn't cats. It was Lek and Lek, two whores from Thailand. Lek could talk English OK but Lek only spoke pidgin English. Wouldn't you know it, two people from the same country with the same names. I couldn't pronounce either of their last names.
          And they were in the throes of violence. Lek punched Lek so hard she flew all the way across the room and hit a wall. It was like some of the ancient 20th century movies me and Destiny like to watch. Of course, those movies were silly and the boat's at low gravity. So it looked really silly when that whore knocked the other whore across the room like in one of those stupid old movies.
          I'd talked to Lek before, the one who spoke English pretty good. It seems that in Thailand, prostitutes are revered for their service to humanity. I'm sure all those horny guys on Mars will agree wholeheartedly.
          I think she's full of shit.
          "OK," I said, "What the hell is this all about?"
          "I don't know," said the semi-fluent one. "She just attached me!"
          "You tenee drops! Cuen me drops! Me ow! the other one said. At least that's what it sounded like she said.
          "She thinks I have drops and she wants some. I guess she ran out."
          Uh, Oh. "There are drops on my boat?"
          "Are you stupid? Yes. Everybody got them."
          "You?"
          She laughed. "Come find 'em," she said with that twinkle in her eye that, well, I saw in most of them when they boarded.
          I gave the less fluent Lek an hour of confinement. Kids, you gotta ground 'em sometimes. I didn't have a clue what to do about the drops. I should have went to college.
          I went and inspected the engines... shit, I had no idea how they worked but I was supposed to inspect them? OK, just follow the checklist on my tablet and I don't have to have a clue.
          A robot was working on one, and I noted it. Standard procedure. Even though there's always a robot working on one, seems like.
          I was still chuckling about the Thai chick flying across the room in the boat's reduced gravity. We could do one G but the bean counters say it would cost too much, so I fly 'em like they tell me to. Times like that I'm glad gravity is reduced, that was hilarious!
          See, they tell me the gravity is from propulsion, we're always burning fuel. Or acceleration or something, I ain't never went to college.
          I walked back to our quarters. I opened the door – and saw her with an eyedropper.
          SHIT!!!

This is a crude, rough draft of an upcoming book that is less than 10% finished. Continues...

Chapter One
Previously...

Catfight
          Three days after liftoff we had docked with the ship, quarters were assigned to the women, the rocket went back down, the tube was jettisoned in a trajectory that would burn it up, and we were on our way to Mars.
        I was watching a movie, Destiny cuddled in my arm. God, I liked this woman. She was like a female me, only refined, she'd went to college.
        Of course, the tablet had to ruin the mood, damn it. I had to go to the commons area.
        Right now the commons area was a bar and the robots summoned me because there was a damned bar fight.
        I like having company but I hate being a babysitter.
        Tables were overturned, two women were fistfighting so I tasered and handcuffed both of the dumbasses. "OK," I said, "Who are you girls and what's this about?"
        "I'm Billie and that bitch called me a cunt so I hit her," the blonde with the black eye said.
        "I'm Sparkle," the other one said. "And I was just defending myself from that cunt."
        I sighed. "Look, bitches, there ain't gonna be no violence on my boat, get it? Billie, you're confined to quarters, and that means the door's locked, for twenty four hours. It happens again and you're locked up for the rest of the trip. Got it? That shit don't happen on my boat.
        "Sparkle, you get two hours and you better stay out of trouble." I escorted them to their quarters and removed their handcuffs, locked the doors and returned to Destiny.
        If I'd gone to college maybe I'd known about drops.
        As I was going back to Destiny's, Tammy walked up. Tammy, my sole passenger. "Trouble?" She asked.
        "Nope, just a couple of pissed off whores," I said. Yeah, I held this woman in contempt. A dropper whore was... well, you don't want to know one. Believe me.
        "That's what happens when they don't get their drops." she said.
        "Huh?" I hadn't known whores or droppers. But I knew I didn't want to.
        "Droppers get violent when they don't get their drops."
        "You?"
        "Best not fuck with me, asshole."
        Shit, no wonder the company gave me a raise. Droppers and no drops.
        I was in trouble.
          Or maybe not. It was a month before another such incident occurred, and was quickly quelled; I didn't have to ground the kids this time.
        When I say "babysitter" I'm not kidding. These fully grown women acted like spoiled children. It's like they weren't raised right, I don't know.
        Hey, can I go to the bathroom? Thanks.
        OK, where was I? Oh, yeah, drops.
        I knew those damned things were addictive, but I didn't know that withdrawal from them caused violence. And, it seemed, every time. I was in trouble and didn't know it.

This is a crude, rough draft of an upcoming book that is less than 10% finished. This short chapter will be enlarged for the book. continues.

Someone anonymously commented in chapter three that "I'm a sucker for spaceships in the solar system, so thanks for posting!" As he was AC there was no point in answering since he wouldn't have seen the answer, but had he been logged in I'd have said he should read "Nobots" if he hasn't already.

I hope if anyone sees any typos, misspellings, grammatical errors (unless it's the uneducated Knolls who's speaking), incongruities, or contradictions, please comment; I have no editor or proofreader. Also if you have an idea for some crazy stunt one of the droppers pulls, comment and I'll consider it.

Thanks for reading!