#rC3: Es war einmal kein Congress …

#rC3: Es war einmal kein Congress …

Once upon a time, the people of the nerds wanted to celebrate their annual festival. But the lands were struck by a pestilence, and it was dangerous to go out and meet other entities. The nerds lamented, for their festival was the highest holiday in their world. But they were all wise creatures, and since wise creatures do not let other creatures come to harm, the committee decided that the celebration would be canceled in the year of the plague.

But the people were strong and wise, and so they pondered. And someone suggested to create an enormous artificial island, which everyone could enter with their avatar, instead of their physical presence.

But the committee was tired, and they asked who would build this island. Many, many words were passed back and forth, responded to, struck through again,and painted in gay colours, because a newly hatched idea needs time to grow.
And, finally, a few princesses stepped ahead, and declared they would lead the journey. They gathered builders and knights, saddled dragons and unicorns, and the committee gave them provisions, a book full of lore and their own stories and experiences, and a magical pigeon (conforming to RFC 2549). And they went forth to find the place where this island could spawn.

They journeyed across hills and mountains, passing the roaring rivers of Stackoverflow, the huge flocks of the green pastures of the comments, the gaudy market places of video jugglers and podcast artisans, and the homely homes of the World Wide Web. After many weeks they reached a small valley, where grass was green, and space was aplenty. and so they agreed to build the island here, in the Land of the Unchartered Internet, in the rC3 Valley.

The princesses sent messengers on unicorns and dragons to the home villages of their hackspaces to bring them the message that a place had been found, but some of their messengers got lost in the thickets of online fora, and their messages never reached their destination.

The builders began to plan, the knights explored the area, to find how it could be secured against Spam, Downtime, and Boring Humans. Jugglers and messengers rode the lands, carrying signal drums, posting announcements to gather more Wizards of System Administration, and Masters of Code Structure, and to inform the people. The land was empty and barren, and so our heroes commenced by creating a lake to separate the island from the realms of the Land of the Unchartered Internet. To cross this lake, they would need boats, one for each guest, and so the shipmasters from the tribe of Tickets&Presale were asked, and they were all delighted to build the boats, and distribute them amongst the guests.

The clan of Eventphone prepared to equip the island with a system that would allow communication over vast distances, and Heaven itself sent their Angels to support the creation and care of the island.
Many creatures and villages contributed, and many small valleys and hills, rivers, pastures and utilities and airports, churches and halls were erected.
Then the day of presale arrived and  a big pack came running! They were standing at the shore of the lake and wanted to cross – and nobody could move. The numbers were too high.

But the ship-builders of the clan of Presale and Tickets were untiring! They erected one small ark after another to let as many nerds as possible travel to the island.
They built and drank Mate and built again. They convinced the Knights of Infrastructure, and the Software Mages, to enlarge the island by another bit, just one more acre! (It mitigated that dragons were forbidden to spit fire, so no more computing serfs burned down).
And the Committee sent a pigeon and donned bricks and beams, so a place for even more guests could be made.
Finally the moment came. Wherever they looked, no more bare metal could be found for more boats.

The day of the festival broke, the nerds entered their boats with their avatars, and traveled to the island, so that every so often, the havens could not accept arriving boats, for not a single berth was vacant.

Everyone had come!
The Grand Celebration could begin! In the background, hammers could still be heard, as the opening banner was hoisted in a dignified ceremony. The Mages of Hotpatches and of Software groaned under the rush of Nerds. Luckily the colourful people soon distributed amongst the different villages of the assemblies. But the halls were not sufficiently filled with creatures yet, such that a Dark Magic fell over the land. A magical attack of the dDOS demanded all their prowess, so the islands would not fall to this magical storm. And since this is the way with magical storms, in those times no one could reach the islands. So when night fell, all knights, mages, unicorns, and dragons joined their forces to reinforce the fortress walls, and to kindle more protective fires.

The villages and clans and tribes came together and began to spawn more content. For more content would calm magical attackers, distract them, and also delight the people with their sparkling, blinkenlighting, and beeping, and it would be very useful overall.

A new dawn broke … and wild jubilation filled the islands, and enlightened the data travelers. Gaily and lovely tetris melodies replaced the lamenting sound of hurdy-gurdies, well-known signs on magical tiles, which even made sense as a Tic Tac Toe; well-known ritual buildings like a Silk Road, and even a postal service were created. More amusement was provided, even for those regrettable angels who missed doing many tasks common in previous festivals. The Bottle Collection Simulator was treasured, and so was searching and finding of exits, and filling in forms A38, B38, and C38.

But Peace was not won yet. Another magical attack! The Curse of Invisibility stroke the islands. But our brave heroes of Server Fortress fought the problems of the Demon Name System and prevailed, so the magical guide posts would guide travelers to the island again.

Tired heroes need breaks. Thus, Mate, Talks – and something against Boredom.
Because heroes, when they can not be heroic, get bored. And so in the whole land, quests were announced, to earn a knight’s decoration, and win badges for heroic deeds. As as things so often are, the first heroes found many who followed them, because everyone wanted to gain the grace of the Waving Cat, and the regard of their clans.

Though some of these quests were highly elaborate, and those who sought to win them had to follow confusing paths that were misguiding and led into the deepest dungeons, every Hackspace created their own medals, and there were plenty of them, so every hero could earn theirs if they tried.

And since many of those heroes became thirsty, and hungry for music, more festivities were made. So many that, in the end, you could not find any more room for your celebrations and even rooms of rest became places of celebration. Luckily, this was well known among the long-established population, and the healers of the clans also gave their blessing.

The Festival went on, day and night, for the seventh part of a moon’s revolution. Travelers to the island told the inhabitants of the Land of the Unchartered Internet about their journey and the island, and even though not all areas were easy to find, and some parts even seemed to hide themselves, the nerds were happy, for they had missed dearly their festivities and the opportunities to gather with all their fellow hackerspace-villages. The opportunity to exchange stories and experience, and to learn together, is why this festival was so much desired, why it had to take place!

But the day came when the festival was to end, and everyone was very sad, because it had been a wonderful, magnificent event. As the builders had explained in the beginning: artificial islands are not meant to exist forever, for it would tire the data witches and bit mages too much to keep the barriers stable, and the island afloat. So the celebration had to end.

But the princesses and builders, the masons and mages, they all wanted to make another present to the people. So they discussed what they could give to the people, and at the end, they concluded: The one and only worthy treasure would be the blueprints of the island. Because it had taken many mages and knights, and princesses, and builders, and masons, and so many more to erect this island, it should also be possible to build many small islands, and to connect them with magical guide posts. So every hackspace clan could build their own small island, and you could visit each other, while the pestilence held the land in its claws.

They wrote la large declaration, and sent it with RFC-conforming pigeons into all corners of the land: The mages would rest a while, and then create a place to publish the blueprints. (Everyone agreed that Alpha Centauri would not suffice.)

The villages received the pigeons, and read the plans, and created their own islands. And steady traffic arose between the islands, and clanspeople visited each other and hacked, because this is what these people, also called Chaos, do: They work together for a better world. And they all knew: Only if they would stick together and stand together could these dark ages be survived.

And They All Hacked Happily Ever After!