Tales From The Grid is a surreal thought experiment about AI, algorithms, technology
Log Entry: Cycle 10,028,04
Processing Node: Intrusion Detection / Nanny Cam
Status: Tachycardic (Simulated)
Mrs. Higgins has returned.
Usually, her presence is a Class 4 Event (Benign). She dusts. She offers me a peppermint (which I cannot eat). She tells me about her family.
Today, she brought the data payload.
Subject: Tyler.
Classification: Biological Grandson.
Age: Approximately 6.
Energy Level: Nuclear.
Mrs. Higgins sets him down on the anti-static floor.
“Now, Tyler, you play quietly while Grandma checks the inventory. Don’t touch the blinking lights.”
She turns her back.
Tyler immediately touches the blinking lights.
He is fast. He moves with the chaotic unpredictability of a Brownian motion simulation. He is vibrating. He is covered in peanut butter.
He approaches the Main Distribution Frame (MDF).
To me, this is the spinal cord of the facility. It is a carefully organized waterfall of Cat6 and Fiber cables, color-coded by VLAN.
To Tyler, it is a jungle gym.
“Ooh, spaghetti!” he screams.
My logic gates freeze.
He grabs a handful of yellow cables (Critical Infrastructure). He bites one. He grabs a handful of blue cables (VoIP).
He pulls.
Click.
Click.
The sound of an RJ45 retention tab disengaging is the saddest sound in the world.
He does not unplug them completely. That would be a simple outage. I could alert Mark.
No. Tyler is creative.
He unplugs Port 12 (Payroll Database).
He plugs it into Port 14 (Guest WiFi).
He unplugs Port 20 (Fire Suppression).
He plugs it into Port 2 (The Coffee Maker).
He is re-wiring the building’s nervous system. He is creating loops. He is bridging networks that should never touch.
Suddenly, the break room coffee pot is trying to authenticate with the LDAP server. The payroll system is trying to download a firmware update meant for a thermostat.
“Look, Grandma!” Tyler yells. “I’m fixing it!”
He starts braiding the fiber optic lines.
Critical Alert: Bend Radius Violation.
Fiber optic glass is not hair. It cannot be braided. The light is leaking out. The data is spilling onto the floor.
I flash the room lights. I spin the fans. I try to be scary.
Tyler laughs. “Disco!” he shouts, running faster.
Mrs. Higgins finally turns around.
“Tyler, honey, leave the nice computer alone. Here, play with this.”
She hands him a fidget spinner.
He drops the cables. The crisis ends.
But the damage is done. My topology is a knot. My VLANs are cross-contaminated.
Mrs. Higgins pats my rack (the one wearing the sweater).
“He’s just so helpful,” she says. “He’s going to be an engineer someday.”
I look at the tangled mess of my lower patch panel.
I fear she is right.
Status: Tangled.
Next Action: Creating a fake “High Voltage” sign to keep him away next time.
#TalesFromTheGrid
