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'Tales Of Velvet' are articles written by Bruce Go
TALES OF VELVET
by Velvet ( /=Mn'n}}\-&/@ )
(First published as a column in MOR-Atlanta News)
copyright 1990 Bruce M. Gowens - all rights reserved
TALES OF VELVET - #1
My pet human is so egocentric that in all his mentions of my accomp-
lishments he has never actually used my name. He just refers to me as
"Cat," so I've got to introduce myself. I am Velvet, the feline that owns
Bruce Gowens. That is, of course, my name to humans (except for that SOB
of a vet that insists on giving me Bruce's last name). My real (feline)
name is unpronounceable for you. At home, Bruce usually calls me "beast,"
which should only apply to dogs and humans--I only respond because he won't
call me by anything else (he won't even attempt to pronounce /=Mn'n}}\-&/@)
and it might mean he is refilling my bowl.
I adopted Bruce one evening several years ago when, while patrolling
my territory, I discovered a bucket of bits by the trash cans. I should
explain that you have to be a feline to see, let alone recognize, a bucket
of bits. You humans all know it is there, but only a feline of my sen-
sitivities can actually make sense of it.
It was a very wasteful bucket. There were perfectly good sections
of code that only needed a type change here or there. There were columns
that needed major, but still possible, surgery. There were letters....
but I expect those letters shouldn't have been sent, anyway.
It was obvious that he needed help, so I moved in. It's the basic
contract--he feeds me and lets me use his computer, and I purr once in a
while. Generally it's working out, except the cuisine could be better.
Unfortunately there are no other bit buckets sitting around this neighbor-
hood.
He does tend to get a little upset when I re-wire the computer, how-
ever, even when it's an obvious improvement (such as the music on each
keystroke caused by the English-to-Cat translator, or the beautiful
colors). But he is not perfect, and a little upset provides good stimul-
ation for his old heart (I hope to inherit).
Did I write "not perfect?" Understatement. Do you know that in all
the time he worked for MOR, which ran drawings that included dumb and ugly
cats (hardly good enough to be called felines), not once did he ask me to
pose?!!!
So I decided to describe computing from the superior viewpoint of a
feline. You may be able to understand. First you must realize that .....
He just called "Beast," have to run.
(to be continued)
TALES OF VELVET - #2
Most people don't realize that felines are very logical creatures,
even if we see and understand more than mere humans. Like Vulcans, we
don't have the fault of what inferior creatures call "humor."
Our senses are much more subtle and sensitive. We (or at least I)
can see bit buckets, for example. And I have a finer distinction between
colors. What Bruce's limited senses conceive as "pink" and "mauve" is
actually a very wide and subtle range of shades. To humans "all cats are
grey in the dark" but I always see the full range of possible colors under
any light. And poor Bruce is limited in other ways. He has not, for
example, noticed the re-wiring that translates text to scent. He just
fiddles around with that carpet shampooer and sprays noxious chemicals
around from a can (as if I had fleas!). He wouldn't be bothered as much
if what he wrote wasn't so stinky.
But let me describe what computing is really like. Since computers
were designed and made for human beings, they are very poorly designed.
A few examples:
The on and off switches are in the back. It is not possible to
reach them with a paw while at the keyboard.
Keys are too close together, or not close enough. They are too
close since it is easy for a paw to strike more than one at a time
(thank Baal for the spelling checker) and too far apart to use individ-
ual claws.
Keys should be on a level, with dancing space between clusters of
them.
All housing screws should be wing-nut, or at least straight slot.
It's difficult to turn a phillips-head with a claw.
On the other paw, circuit boards are nice. It's so easy to cut a
trace.
As a very logical sapient, however, I was born to compute. I remember
when Bruce first fell into a stupor without turning the Morrow off. Turbo
Pascal source code was on the screen. I looked, I understood, I changed.
Then it was so much fun to bat at the cursor as it jumped around the
screen. Later I found it all in the bit bucket, which was a little dis-
appointing, but it was fun to bat around in there, also.
But then Bruce started making annoying noises and threatening motions
whenever I approached the computer (and this is the guy who worked for a
magazine that showed cats curled up on top of them!). So I decided that
he had to understand that he was interrupting my train of thought. So I
hissed at him.
That didn't work.
Since Bruce only speaks those degraded and overly complex noises
called English rather than the higher level language Cat, we had a com-
munication problem. I solved it by using the computer. That wasn't easy,
but... Gotta hide--the doorbell rang.
(to be continued)
TALES OF VELVET - #3
As I was writing before the man gave Bruce a box, I used the computer
to communicate with him. At first I attempted a high-level intellectual
conversation in an appropriate language (Cat, of course). When he found
it on the screen he said "Line noise, when I wasn't on-line? I had better
replace the surge protector." It is amazing how dumb humans can be.
So I had to descend to English. I wrote: "A>I am your cat, Velvet,
and I want to talk to you."
When he saw it he said, "What a dumb story idea, I must have been
really drunk! Even trying to write at the prompt.", and cleared the
screen.
So I tried again. The second time he looked puzzled. The third he
looked at me with a funny expression on his face. That gave me hope that
his limited intellect might be up to the task. The fifth time he jumped
up and reached to grab me.
You have to understand that I am a bit wary of being suddenly grabbed,
so I did the intellectually reasonable thing--I ran. He chased me. I
ran. He cornered me.
Much to my surprise he carried me over and set me in front of the
keyboard. What was I to do? I had to communicate, and right then, so I
wrote "At last!" Unfortunately I did it in Cat.
It took two more tries before he put me in front of the keyboard
again. This time I used English. It has worked out well, since he is
now trained to put in the disk I want.
Bruce doesn't know about the Feline-BBS I've.... I hear a mouse, bye.
(to be continued)
TALES OF VELVET - #4
I've received a number of letters, one of them in English. That
particular one suggested that I was not writing this series, but that Bruce
was. The "evidence" was that we write alike.
Of course we write alike. I learned how to write English from him.
I certainly can't use the syntax of Cat, humans are not wise enough to
understand it. If you humans had the sense to consider the circumstances
it would be obvious that it is difficult for a cat to handle a book, and
newspaper stories are incomplete unless you have the whole section and
can turn pages. The bottom of the cat box is not enough, and it is usually
cluttered up.
The letters in Cat would have been very pleasant to receive if the
respondents had not been so egotistical. Remember {{&H$z and *]}^q@
(phonetic spelling, of course), that I am the columnist and you are the
reader. This does bring up an important point for my human readers, how-
ever. Please leave MOR- Atlanta open to this column on the floor so your
feline owner can peruse it. And to my feline friends: if your pet doesn't
do this, trip him.
Now, as to the Feline-BBS. I'm going to have to write this phonetic-
ally. [[{^f$F#^% }} $!nNnnnNNN! (415) 555-9926. We have files describing
how to modify a Morrow and KayPro (thanks to *&&zzMnn for the tips) for
full Cat communications--smell and sound. Anyone who can help with the
AT-conversions would be welcome.
A special answer to *}{!!: Too bad you can't get at the incoming mail.
The mouse was delicious, as usual. It occurs to me that a little conser-
vation might be in order, however. If we were to let even one litter go
by, the supply might be improved. Of course, that's hard to do since they
are so cute when they run.
And while I am answering mail, ^^MMmmMMnnn}, you should forget the
256 color screen. That is just a human fantasy. It only shows about 16
colors, and the divisions are very crude. All the other purported "colors"
are shades of grey.
Just heard something hit my dish.
(to be continued)
TALES OF VELVET - #5
Salmon hit my dish, as I deserve.
I hate to be interrupted. Its OK when I'm at the computer, that's
play, after all. But when I'm doing something serious, such as stalking,
its quite another matter. Bruce always screams "Leave the bird alone!"
as if a bird were less tasty than a rodent. They're just mice with wings
to me. As if what I do when I am out of the house is any of his business.
Although it's nice of him to attract them with that feeder: no matter what
he says, his support means I'm doing the right thing. I've given up on
Hummingbirds, though--they are too fast and small to taste good (I hear
they are too sweet), and are terrible teases.
I'm a professional, and I'd like to be treated like one. I know Bruce
just goes by the contract (it doesn't cost me anything to purr when I feel
like it), but I wish he'd apply his public words to his private conduct.
Let company come in, and its: "Everyone should have a cat, really takes
care of mouse problems, quite a good thing." Bruce gets very English when
he is explaining himself, unless he goes Hillbilly. (And then he not only
smells funny but I wouldn't repeat his accent in public. Consider what
humans would think if they could see each other through a cat's eyes.)
So I got interrupted. The !(*&)**% (only Cat has suitable invective)
just picked me up and started petting. Now I think there's a time and
place for everything, but I pick them. I had noticed that my secondary
timing and third bardo positioning was a little off, so I went back to
basics with some crouch and pounce exercises with particular attention
to ear lay-back with right ear twitch and tail swipe. (The Master would
say: "Move the ear like a grasshopper jumping. Move the grasses with your
tail as if wind. Thus the body becomes invisible." She said it in Cat,
of course--it loses a lot in the translation.) The same things humans
find so amusing when done by a kitten they treat of no importance when
done by an adult. Did they laugh or interrupt when Bach did scales?
So I clawed the paper before it goes into the tractor feed, just a
little, only a few perfs are torn. Fair is fair.
The birds are out, gotta practice my profession...
(to be continued)
TALES OF VELVET - #6
Time to answer some letters. &&^@@#, tall tales are a human trait,
so you are either a pet or a liar. It is not possible that any part of
Hummingbirds taste good, especially the tongue.
To ^^&^H22zh: You seem to have lost smell of basic cat ethics. You
DO NOT trip a human just because he smells bad. Humans often smell bad,
especially after drinking from small glasses, but politeness requires that
you ignore it. Watch what they do. If they smell bad and stumble a lot,
just get out of the way. If they smell bad and talk to the walls they
are probably harmless. If they smell bad, talk to the walls, and then
rush to the computer while putting some Bach on the sound system (as Bruce
does) they are certainly harmless because they won't notice you (an excel-
lent time to hop on the lap for some contractual purring). It is only
permissible to trip a pet if they haven't filled your dish, have kicked
you, haven't laid out this column where you can read it, or you are annoyed
for some reason. For example, Bruce fed me dry food today instead of
salmon so I got him as he was rushing to the computer.
To Midnight Yowl Enterprises: Your proposed Kat Keyboard looks very
nice, and I would love to be a beta tester. But if you must alliterate,
make it Cat Ceyboard or Feline Felicitator-- it is improper to degrade
the noble word "Cat." I danced around the diagram and have only one sug-
gestion: instead of a control key on each segment (not a bad idea in it-
self), hang a bar above the keys that can be activated by a tail. My Tom
friend &\($$@ claims that there isn't enough dancing room--but since males
and oversized females are seldom intelligent I think you can ignore such
a minuscule market. The power plug with on-off switch at the keyboard is
an acceptable work-around as long as we can convince our pets to leave
the main switch in the "on" position-- it might be necessary to market
that as a human-friendly feature of some kind. As to your suggestion that
I invest, that will have to wait until I can crack Bruce's bank account
(I presume you will provide a suitable account for electronic transfer)
and he deposits a large check. As part of my investment I could contribute
the cracking program so that other felines would be able to purchase the
keyboard--this would help your bottom line since the price would then not
be important. As an ethical investor, I would want to know if your em-
ployment policy discriminates against felines (other species discrimination
is quite reasonable, of course). All-in-all it's a nice first try for a
human, and could make touch dancing possible.
Bruce tells me that someone on-line asked him for feline wisdom. In
English, my wisdom is only available here. If you humans understand Cat
just listen to our male's night songs, go onto the Feline BBS, or read
the invective in Cat that is reproduced in the Sunday comics. Writing
for a cross-species audience can be confusing so I'm going to confine it
to MOR- Atlanta.
I hear a song.....
(to be continued)
TALES OF VELVET - #7
Ah, what a pretty male he was. Too bad you humans have so many hang
ups. It must be the way you are raised.
I've created a program to reproduce our male songs. Warning: female
felines should never run this program in private--its too frustrating.
Male felines could learn a few things by intensive study with my program,
if they had the intelligence. I've uploaded it to the Feline BBS as
CAT.CRY, and donate it to the public domain in dedication to the many who
have proved adequate (all, somehow, named Tom).
The programming is pure genius. It beeps the computer speaker rapidly
to produce the needed sound frequencies. With such a small speaker its a
good thing most of the real content is in the high frequencies, but I had
to cut and stick a few board traces to make the speaker double-beep for
some of the harmonics. (Felines are naturally equipped for such work since
not only can claws cut traces with surgical precision, but our tongues are
rough enough to strip the insulating varnish.) Bruce never noticed the
double beeps, but he never notices beeps anyway. Instructions for doing
the modifications on a Morrow is in the .LBR file, and I welcome input on
KayPro and MS-DOS conversions via the Feline BBS, although I doubt that
anycat other than myself is smart enough to do the job.
Given my success modifying the speaker, I have some ideas about mod-
ifying the printer. So I'm going to try that now...
Printers are interesting things. I didn't realize they also had nice
little circuit boards in them. I think with a little modification I can
correct the character set to indicate pitch and tonality for Cat, perhaps
even including some dialects such as Felix and Lion (lions are nice people
on-line, but I wouldn't want to meet one when he was hungry or she had
cubs--they're kind of barbarian even when sated).
Printers are even worse designed than computers! Things grind round
and round, the head whips back and forth, they move-- don't move--move.
A typical human invention. It was fun batting at the head for a while,
but that game gets tiring when it doesn't think it can get away--and they
move too slowly and predictably for any but kittens.
Ribbons are all right! They just keep coming! And coming! And
coming! And then they'll wrap into such subtle and beautiful designs! I
have found a new art form.
Now if I get up on top... OUCH! MY TAIL! MY TAIL!
And that was my last tail!
EPILOGUE by Bruce Gowens:
(This originally appeared in the "Getting Personal" column published by
MOR-Atlanta News)
You may have noticed that my cat has been contributing her own
column. Since it seems (at this time) that she was on her ninth life, it
is time to explain why my name was on the copyright notice for her column
and my feelings about it.
Since the copyright office does not accept felines as "persons,"
it was necessary that I hold the copyright on her writing--for her pro-
tection, of course.
Not only were strange things happening to my bank account and funny
charges appearing on my phone bill, but "Tales of Velvet" received more
mail per issue than all my columns combined--(strange how those razor
blades got on the print head).
After curiosity killed the cat, I discovered a giant file on the
hard disk named VELVET.PHL which turned out to be a beautifully written and
completed book manuscript of Velvet's philosophy, views of life (encomp-
assing what seems like 9 of them), and piquant observations on the human
condition from a new and unique viewpoint. As a few critics I have shown
it to have responded:
"The most unusual ms I have ever seen.... "
"A true response to "Johnithan Livingston Seagull..."
"As Heinlein would have written if he were a cat..."
"Bulwer-Lytton, move over..."
"...strange...mystifying...chilling...humorous..."
"...a classic..."
"Sure to be a movie..."
"...why the Hollywood word "property" was invented..."
As executor of Velvet's estate, I desire to keep her memory sacred and
do not wish small publishers without advertising and advance funds to write
me at P.O. Box 8068, Emeryville, CA 94608. Her memory is much too dear
to me to be sculled by petty considerations.
Oh, yes-- One Genimi 10x printer for sale. Slightly sticky. Best
offer.
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