"FWLS60" - читать интересную книгу автора (A Future We'd Like to See)

"Hey, I'll have you know I spent a lot of time thinking
about this idea," he said, waving the polisher threateningly. "I
know for a fact that it'll work. If I charge more, then I only
need a few takers to make money fast. It's logical."

"I'd suggest lowering your price unless you want no takers.
Excuse me," I said, pushing by him.

My, the crowd was thick tonight. It had the street pattern,
the dance of business... an annoyingly old metaphor, but
metaphors circle around just as fast as cultures.

Sickly guitar floated out of the crowd, chords that had the
same waveform of a cat stapled to a moving garage door. Someone
had coded a guitar VERY BADLY and was cheerfully sharing the
results with Uber at large.

So, being the spunky can-do UberNet type I am, I walk over
to the offending musician, grab his guitar and break it over my
knee. (It may be rude, but it's for public safety.)

"HEY!" the musician exclaimed. "I spent all of last night
coding that guitar! It was going to be my ticket to
millionareland!"

"I think the phrase is, how do you get into Radio City Music
Hall?" I asked, handing the broken guitar back.

"Huh?"

"Practice!"

"Huh?"

"Whatever. Jokes don't repeat as well. Point is : You
suck. How were you planning on making money off that?"

"Simple!" he said. "If I can play badly enough and look sad
enough, bystanders will take pity and give me cash. It's a
pathos appeal, guaranteed to make me money fast. Kinda sneaky,
huh? I'm real proud of it."

"Did you read a letter, perchance?" I asked, seeing the
obvious pattern.

"Yup. Read it, sent the man in green five creds and copied
it off for my friends. We're all gonna be RICH. Steve's got a
lemonade stand one block over and Jill is prostituting artificial
sheep."