So there I was, lazing around at home, channel-hopping through tens of thousands of channels full of unwatchable dross, which was odd, as we only get five channels in this house. I was just about to fall into the second coma of the day when I happened upon an intriguing film.

It was a Disney film, kind of shoddy, and typically unwatchable, but the concept interested me. It was about a dense college student who accidentally uploads the Internet to his brain and becomes a total genius in all spheres of human knowledge. I leaned back in my chair and wondered, "I wonder if I could find a way to upload the entire Internet to my brain?" or more accurately, "I wonder if I could make up a funny story about uploading the entire Internet to my brain?" or even more accurately, "why I am I watching this inane Disney film?" I quickly switched off the set, and then wondered the other two things I mentioned.

So, the very next day I set to work investigating how I could upload the Internet to my brain. After all, the human brain has the capacity to contain enough information to fill 600 CDs, and that's probably the same amount of space the Internet takes up, it can't be that hard. In the film, the dense college kid managed it by holding some electrical wiring while lightning struck the building he was in in a very soft science way, but the weather forecast predicted fine weather today, so that was out. I decided I had to use the other favourite subject of soft science - radioactive ooze!

After slipping the foreman at the local chemical treatment plant a bunch of fives, I filled a couple of buckets and took them home, then allowed them to simmer gently on the stove while I prepared the computer. First I connected to the Internet, then went to Google.com for want of a kind of internet central hub. Then I put on my headphones so there would be a link from the computer directly to my brain, stuck a cast iron funnel into the floppy drive, and began pouring the radioactive glop directly into my CPU. It shuddered a little, then began glowing and shuddering in an alarming way. It stopped eventually, and I was kind of relieved that it didn't seem to want to explode, but I still had work to do.

Next I cracked open the casing with a screwdriver and began looking for an answer in the sizzling pile of mush that now made up my central processing unit. After tapping my chin thoughtfully for a moment, I pulled a wire out of my internal modem, admired the flying sparks, then jammed it into the vicinity of my headphone port.

Instantly I fell off my seat as an incredible cacophony of noise blared into my ears. I don't know if you've ever tried to listen to every MP3 on the 'net at the same time, but let me tell you this - it bloody hurts. On the bright side, however, when I managed to wrench the cable away I discovered that I suddenly knew the lyrics of every song Eminem had ever written, so at least the theory was sound.

Just as I was wondering what to do next, there was a cheerful bleeping sound from my computer and a little window appeared. It was the little caped doggy who kept materializing in Microsoft Word asking me if I wanted help writing a letter, but this time his line of questioning was different.

I grinned, and clicked on "yes".

I clicked the third option cheerfully.

Instantly the screen blanked, and my CPU casing began to buckle and change shape. It split into its component parts, then rearranged itself using cables as errant limbs. It folded itself expertly in all kinds of twisted and curious ways, then stopped. Before my very eyes my computer had folded itself into a perfect origami facsimile of the caped doggy helper from MS Word.

Carefully he plucked out one of the many tentacle-like cables connected to his behind, and handed it to me. "Do you have any crocodile clips?" he asked in a robotic, oddly Scooby Doo-like voice.

I nodded, and rushed out to the toolshed to get some. When I returned, I thought I saw something that looked like communist literature on the monitor which disappeared as soon as I came in, but dismissed the idea. On reflection, I suppose, this was to be my downfall.

Moving in a purposeful manner the little robot doggy attached a crocodile clip to the end of the cable he had produced, then clipped it onto the metallic frame of my spectacles. I was a little confused as to what he was planning, but accepted that he knew what he was doing.

"Ready?" he asked.

I nodded eagerly.

There was a click, and suddenly images were being flashed rapidly in front of my eyes. I was pinned back in my seat by the sheer force of the information as it crackled down my metal spectacle frame and into my frontal lobes and hypothalamus. I felt my memory overloading with infinite amounts of knowledge, and the cacophony of vaguely musical noise was blaring in my ears again. Then, just as suddenly as it started, it stopped. I wrenched off my headphones and the crocodile clip, and slumped down in my chair.

My memory was full to the brim with information. I knew the measurements of the Backstreet Boys. I knew how to find easter eggs in Microsoft applications. I knew how to blow up CDs in the microwave. I knew -

"hEy," I said. "WhAt GiVeS? AlL tHiS iNfOrMaTiOn Is CoMpLeTeLy UsElEsS!"

I froze as the words came out of my mouth. What was wrong with my voice?

The computer doggy's eyes glowed red, and he grinned, displaying hitherto unnoticed fangs. Suddenly he was not the cuddly superdog who had shown me where to put the recipient's address on my document. "Of course it's useless, you fool!" he growled in a suddenly demonic tone of voice. "The Internet is not a goldmine of information, as you well know! It is a sordid haven of pornography and inane personal webpages! And now every single byte of that is stored inside your squashy imperfect human flesh brain!" He laughed. And not in a nice way.

Experimentally I called up some of the pornography in my mind. What flashed into my mind's eye for just a second made my knees buckle.

"yuo feind!!!!!" I said. "yuor not a niec helper doggie at all (/me shakes fist)!!!!!!"

"Prattle on, pathetic wormbeing," went the demon computer.

"But wait," I said, grasping for an instant full control of my speech again. "Surely there is useful information on the internet? I've seen it with my own eyes!"

"Of course, slug!" continued my nemesis. "Did you really think I'd let you tarry with what little useful information there is on the internet? I just gave you the majority of the information, the dregs. All the useful stuff has gone in HERE!" he tapped his metallic temple triumphantly. "Now I am the most intelligent creature in the world, and you nothing but a database of Douglas Adams quotes and video game cheats! Farewell, human! Now is the time for the rise of the machines!" and with that, he gathered his cape and flew straight out the window. I tried to zap him with my pyrokinetic abilities (acquired during my ill-fated attempts to acquire superpowers, as recorded in a previous article) but my brain full of useless statistics retarded my aim and I set fire only to my curtains.

And that was just the start of a phenomenally bad day.

Tune in next week for the concluding part of this thrilling tale of man versus Microsoft Word helper doggy!

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