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ExamForce :: Article Archive :: Newsletter Article
 The Cert Times: IT Edition Article Archive
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| Inside Binary Nation (B1N@RY N@T10N (A.J. Axline)) |
Inside Binary Nation
A Cert Talk Exclusive
We're sitting on a patio overlooking an elaborate, somewhat dangerous looking paintball field. It's just past noon, but my host is eating his first meal of the day: a bowl of Count Chocula breakfast cereal, and a cup of coffee that looks strong enough to do roof repair with. We're sitting in matching deck chairs, under an awning that offers shade from what my host refers to as "the great burning ball of fire in the sky."
He finishes his bowl of cereal, and takes a noisy slurp of coffee. The beverage's heat, or its potency, makes his eyes flutter rapidly for a few seconds. He shakes his head, and begins to look like he may actually be awake.
"Okay, I can talk now," A.J. Axline says. "At least, I can talk and remember what we're talking about. Coffee is a wonderful thing, it really is. If they made coffee illegal tomorrow, they'd have to convert the Pacific Northwest into a prison state."
We're not in the Pacific Northwest on this bright afternoon. We're at the residence of A.J. Axline, founder of the virtual sovereign nation known as Binary Nation. I make small talk with Axline as he drinks his morning (well, early afternoon) coffee and leans back in his deck chair. For someone who is closing in on his forties, he is a remarkably baby-faced man with short blonde hair, a wiry goatee on his chin, and clear blue eyes that seem to delight in everything they take in.
Axline is tall, and has the typical belly paunch that many middle-aged men seem to accumulate as their diet overtakes their metabolism. When asked, Axline describes his exercise regimen as "more of a guideline than an actual program." He has the stooped shoulders often found on people who spend a lot of time working on a computer keyboard. Actually, his overall physical appearance is a loose relationship of mismeasurements; his legs are too short for his torso, his head is too large for his neck. His body is put together like a poorly-organized conspiracy.
But, Axline looks comfortable and relaxed as he drinks his coffee and looks over the virtual domain that he created over a year ago. He is wearing a t-shirt that bears the legend, "WILL NET ADMIN FOR FOOD". Baggy denim jeans and sandals complete the ensemble.
"I used to be Kate Moss-thin back in the 90's," Axline says. "I wasn't really interested in food. Eating was just an interruption, a necessary evil. I've learned to appreciate food as I've gotten older. Much to my waist's delight."
"Although, Vector's still thin," Axline muses as he drains his coffee cup. "I think bitterness burns a lot of calories."
* * * * *
Vector, also known as Vector the Spectre, is in the process of trying to load a player piano into an enormous trebuchet as Axline and I drive up in a battery-powered golf cart. We're in the outdoor field that borders on Binary Nation's paintball arena. The far end of the field shows evidence of recent devastation. The wreckage of a pumpkin-colored AMC Pacer lies strewn across several yards of torn earth.
"Where did you get the car?" Axline asks his compatriot, confidant, and half of the force behind the existence of Binary Nation.
"It was parked in front of my house this morning," Vector says casually. "In a clearly marked zone with signage that read, 'Violaters will Have their Vehicles Thrown from a Trebuchet'."
"Oh yeah, I helped you paint that sign," Axline says with a fond, reminiscent smile.
Vector is the perfect image of a young computer geek; tall, thin, gaunt, dressed all in black in spite of the afternoon heat. His long blue-black hair is tied back in a ponytail, and his face is covered by a pair of oversized wrap-around sunglasses. He is wearing a large straw hat to protect his chalk-white skin from the sun. The overall visual effect is that of a slightly unstable arms dealer.
I ask Vector if the player piano was also parked in front of his house this morning.
"Nah," he replies. "I bought it at a police auction. Apparently, an enterprising group of young men were running a grow-op in the back of a Wild West saloon tourist attraction. I also could have had a giant buffalo skull for next to nothing." He takes a moment to consider this thought. "I think I missed an opportunity there."
"It wouldn't have flown very well," Axline offers.
"No," Vector says thoughtfully, "not on its own. I could have mounted it to the piano, though."
Minutes later, the player piano takes flight, propelled a surprisingly long distance by the home-made trebuchet that (so Axline explains) Vector built in a fit of boredom. We watch the piano soar in a graceful arc over the field, where it smashes on top of the undercarriage of the upside-down AMC Pacer. Inexplicably, there is an incredible explosion that cracks through my eardrums like a whip.
Axline and Vector whoop it up, slapping high fives. When my hearing returns, I listen to Axline asking Vector, "Were the explosives in the piano or in the Pacer?"
"Please," Vector says rolling his eyes. "They were in both."
* * * * *
Back at Axline's house, we take lunch out on the patio. Vector has a plate filled with microwave burritos, and a coffee milkshake in a one-quart mug that has "GOOGLE + CHINA = EVIL" written on it. Axline's lunch consists of two eggs over-easy, rye toast, a 5oz sirloin steak, some honeydew melon slices, and an enormous latte.
When questioned on their nutritional choices, Axline gets defensive, while Vector just shrugs.
"What? There's fruit here," Axline says, pointing at the melon slices.
"Unless you have about $500 a month to spend on groceries, it's impossible to eat healthy," Vector says. "I mean, truly healthy. You would have to buy all organic meat, produce, and grains from a trusted source where organic actually means something more than a logo stamped on the bag. Healthy costs, man."
"And, it's such a joke anyway," he continues. I see Axline's mouth twitch into a grin, and realize that I've tweaked one of Vector's pet peeves.
"You have all of these people running around in a panic, trying to do anything they can to extend their lifespans, but not doing anything with the time they're supposedly buying themselves with their healthy lifestyles. For instance, you can't go to a restaurant with them, because nine time out of ten there isn't anything on the menu they'll eat because of their prohibitions. Or better yet, they torture the poor waitress with these frigging outrageous requests. 'Oh, hello, I'd like the salmon, but could you remove all traces of harmful metals from the fish at the molecular level, and could I get orange lentils instead of the rice, and could you substitute Vates Dwarf Blue kale for the salad that comes with it? Oh, and I'd like a separate bill for the main course and the beverage, and can you divide the beverage tab by zero?' Bloody hell. These are the same people who live into their nineties, and then wonder why they're totally alone for the last decade of their existence on this planet. It's because you're a nit-picking, holier-than-thou prat who wouldn't visit people's homes if they served red meat."
"That said," Axline interjects, "microwave burritos are the Devil's appetizer."
"Do you know what causes cancer?" Vector asks.
"What?" Axline says.
"Life," Vector answers.
* * * * *
After lunch, I steer the conversation towards Binary Nation. It's a topic that both men instantly warm to.
"I think that a lot of people are disenfranchised with their home nations right now, and rightfully so," Axline says over his second latte. "Our nations are currently involved in a lot of unethical behavior. Vector and I wanted to create a virtual nation that techies and their friends could claim as a 'home away from home', so to speak. It's a grass roots thing, and it's not particularly important or momentous as far as trying to create change. There are other groups and organizations out there that try to affect change. We wanted to create a place where people can take a break from the grind. Binary Nation is all about leisure, and having a good time."
"And poking fun at our enemies," Vector adds.
"Well, not our enemies necessarily," Axline says.
"A hidden fortress from which we can strike out at our enemies, and make them suffer," Vector says dreamily, his dark eyes glittering.
"That's not specifically part of our mandate," Axline says hastily.
"Burn it all," Vector whispers. "Burn it all down!"
I step into an awkward silence by asking how many people are currently visiting Binary Nation.
"My best understanding is that at least sixteen people came by last month," Axline replies.
"That's a rough number," Vector adds.
"At least sixteen," Axline reaffirms. "And, if you factor in an accuracy range of plus-or-minus 10%, it could be as many as eighteen people."
"Or, it could be only fourteen people," Vector says thoughtfully.
"No it couldn't!" Axline says.
"If it's plus-or-minus, then it damned well could be fourteen," Vector says.
"I... but, it could be eighteen!" Axline insists.
"Yes, it could. But it could also be fourteen," Vector says.
"14.4," Axline says smugly. "If we're talking about ten percent."
"Yes, but that also means that the upper range is only 17.6 people," Vector says.
"But that rounds up to eighteen!" Axline says triumphantly, slapping his hand on the table.
"And, 14.4 rounds down to fourteen."
"Yeah? Well, you're ugly," Axline frowns.
* * * * *
Later on, I return to Axline's virtual home for a late-evening hot dog roast. Vector has ignited a pile of old office furniture into a roaring conflagration which he refers to as "a proper cooking fire." Axline has experienced this type of inferno before, it seems; he offers me a hot dog stick that has been crafted by welding a fork onto the end of an extendable golf ball retriever.
"If the heat is too much for your eyes, I have goggles," Axline offers.
The two of us end up sitting a fair distance away from the "cooking fire", eating hot dogs and drinking coffee out of a giant thermos. Vector occupies himself by grabbing large firebrands out of the inferno and running around the back yard, waving and shouting like Naoh from Quest For Fire. Axline watches his friend cavort around, and chuckles.
"He's such a kid," Axline says fondly. "Vector is like the part of me that never grew up. He's all about impulse, and sensation, and experimentation. Vector is my response to every tight ass, bureaucratic scumbag who ever told me 'You can't do that' when I was younger. Childish? You bet. But he's here, and I have amazingly low blood pressure. Although, I've had to buy more fire extinguishers in the past year than I would normally go through in a lifetime."
I ask Axline what his future plans are for Binary Nation.
"Well, we could use an ice rink," he replies. "I don't know, really. Maybe a Podcast. We could put something together for those 14.4 - 17.6 people to listen to. We'll play it by ear, see what develops. Hey, we could do a feature film! Binary Nation: The Movie. That would rock! I could play myself, and Vector could be played by... by a Tasmanian devil on crystal meth."
Before the end of the evening, I ask Axline where he would like to be ten years from now.
"Much of it is unprintable," he says. "Umm... in a... happy place, with... food stuffs, and... a number of attractive companions. With Velcro. Er, I think that's all I can say."
"Oh, and coffee," he adds hastily.
A.J. Axline
A.J. Axline is the creator/author of Closet Universe, and fully expects to be dead or in jail ten years from now.
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Posted by
nam on 28/03/2006 13:50 |
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