Saturday, January 29, 2011
Friends and family were distraught by news regarding the unexpected death of Bart the Chicken at a Vincennes, Indiana landfill yesterday. Although police are still investigating the popular bird's passing, they have not collected sufficient evidence to rule out foul play.
"An unidentified suspect dumped a printout of Boyer's plagiarisms, lies, misrepresentations and copyright infringements in the landfill at the edge of town sometime late Thursday night" said the detective in charge of the WTF investigative squad. "It was a huge amount of paper and Bart just loved to eat paper. Lots of birds do. I had a crow that ate my grandmother's recipe for Plagiary Pie a year back. We had to pump the poor little guy's stomach. And that was only three pages!"
"Can you tell this reporter how many pages were printed out of Boyer's plagiaries?" I asked.
The detective cocked his head toward the brooding Indiana sky as though looking for guidance.
"Well," he said finally, "a scientist from Vincennes University told us if you took all the ink used to print out his plagiaries, poured it into a giant spaceship and dumped it on the sun you could cause a complete and total eclipse that might destroy all life on planet Earth for a thousand years."
"Wow," I said.
"That's what I said," he agreed. "And remember, Bart the Chicken only ate a fraction of Boyer's printed plagiaries. If he ate all the pages or, say we stuffed them down his beak with a plunger, why there'd be such an explosion we'd have feathers from here to New Jersey."
"And chicken shit," I added.
Since I've been investigating Boyer's plagiaries, I think of that phrase every time I hear his name.
Friday, January 28, 2011
Me- Get a Conscience!???
Las Vegas oddsmakers are giving odds of 20:1 against the notorious plagiarist David Boyer of Vincennes, Indiana accepting a remarkable offer from the Arkham College of Neurosurgeons to attempt the world's first Conscience Transplant.
Dr. F. Lobe urged Mr. Boyer to accept the offer.
"What's to lose?" she said. "Talk to the man's victims- he's done nothing for them, not even admit publicly that he plagiarized them. So I'm saying to him, like a doctor and a good mother- get a conscience, even a little one can't hurt."
Finding a conscience donor, however, could be tricky. He will need a real conscience, one from someone recognized for their integrity to balance his morality deficit. Scientist Sarah Bellum, PhD points out that Boyer's brain currently registers negative on the conscience scale. "Of course," she admits, "I only scanned him from a distance. I didn't want to get too close in case he felt tempted to steal my doctoral thesis."
This reporter contacted the Ghandi Institute in India, since the headquarters in Pontiac, MI did not return our phone calls.
"Ghandhi's dead," said Rasheej Gukathason, the security guard who answered the phone. (time differences can be very tricky, even for an investigative journalist). "His conscience is gone someplace. Who knows where? Don't ask me, I'm just the security guard."
"Where does the conscience go after death?" I asked.
A burst of solar radiation most likely was the cause of the dial tone that followed my question.
I later contacted a mysterious man known only as "The Donor Hunter," and he suggested that Donor Consciences could be purchased if you knew the right people. "Charlie Sheen, for example," he said. "He used to have a conscience, but he's not using it now. Maybe for bond money he'll sell it if you have enough cash. Or go to politicians. They have absolutely no use for them. And some of them lie better than Boyer so it would be a good match. And they always swear they've done nothing wrong, just like he does."
"So his brain won't reject the conscience in question if it comes from an out of control actor or a sleazy politician?"
"Exactly," said the Donor Hunter.
"But then he'll still suffer from Conscience-Deficit Syndrome," I pointed out.
The Donor Hunter's mouth dropped open.
"You thought he was going to change?"
"What was I thinking?" I said.
Monday, January 24, 2011
In a radical departure from established procedure, the Borg announced this morning that it would not assimilate David Boyer's brain. "We have to have some standards, after all," said a Borg representative the day after a proud pair of discarded work boots was absorbed into their collective.
The announcement came as a devastating blow to the Vincennes, Indiana City Council, still reeling from the almost weekly revelations of Boyer's plagiaries. "Our image is going right down the poop slide," commented one council member who asked that his name be withheld.
The Borg are well known for their omnivorous consumption of all life forms, which are then integrated into a Unified Consciousness. So their fear of assimilating Boyer's brain has puzzled many observers.
One possible issue is that the Borg collective must simultaneously process the thoughts of its four trillion separately integrated brains. The concern the hive might have is that Boyer's obsession with stealing other people's stories could slow down the entire Borg brain.
"The speed of light used to mean something," said a deprogrammed starship captain, "but if you were to throw Boyer's brain into the mix, the entire Borg could turn into a black hole."
But is there more to it, perhaps an insight from the realm of alien psychology?
"Definitely there is another aspect to this problem," said well known Alien Consciousness Psychologist Theodore Seuss, PhD. "The Borg want to ADD to their integrated intelligence, and they fear that assimilating The Vincennes plagiarist's thoughts would SUBTRACT from their collective IQ."
Asked to explain further, the great man quoted himself by saying:
"Or worse than all that…Why,
you might be a WASN’T!
A WASN’T has no fun at all.
No, he doesn’t.
A WASN'T just isn’t."
"A WASN'T," he winked, "is code for PLAGIARIST."
Sunday, January 23, 2011
Bigfoot Needed a Ride to Vincennes, Indiana
But Developed Engine Trouble Along the Way
David Boyer is in trouble with Bigfoot. Bigfoot's dream, you see, is to be a writer.
"He ruin market," the seismic-sized Sasquatch told me.
I had to run to keep up with him. Being ten foot tall, his stride was enormous. We were on our way through Ohio to meet the man voted America's most sleazy plagiarist in his home town of Vincennes, Indiana. The town council of Vincennes also voted last week on a resolution re Boyer to change the town's motto to "David Boyer doesn't live here, he's just passing through."
"Had you thought of basketball?" I shouted at my interviewee as we crested another of Ohio's annoying hills. "There's lots of money in basketball for a guy your size."
"Bigfoot no punk yeti! Bigfoot aim big. Be writer like Stephen King."
His words rumbled across the open land like thunder and his eyes were red-yellow and fierce. I resisted the urge to look down and see if he really did have big feet or whether they were just proportional to his height.
"And what is your quarrel with David Boyer?" I asked and added, "Could we sit down on a stump or something? I'm out of breath."
The gentle giant stopped and looked at me apologetically. "Sorry," he said. "Bigfoot no fit in car. And cheap foreign flying saucer crap out over Toledo."
We found a stump large enough in diameter to support his behind and a log for me to sit on. He sat down rather quietly for a creature weighing over twelve hundred pounds. And in the afternoon sun, he actually looked dignified except for his face being completely covered with fur and those big teeth. Perhaps by email I'll suggest he consider cologne as a wardrobe accessory as well.
"So," I continued, "why are you meeting with Mr. Boyer?"
"Bigfoot have writer's block," he said, casting his eyes toward the ground. "Can't write worth beef jerky."
"Wait, do you expect a man who defrauds consumers by selling plagiarized work to help you overcome writer's block? He's a terrible horror writer. He told me so in an email."
"He no have writer's block. Bigfoot have writer's block."
I stood up and walked over to my new friend.
"You don't need to go see Boyer," I said. "I can tell you why Boyer doesn't have writer's block when it comes to published fiction."
"You can?" he said, with a huge smile and a mouthful of blocky teeth. "You make Bigfoot very happy."
"Sure," I said. "His own fiction was so bad it was hard to get published, so he just started stealing other people's work and publishing that under his name or one of his aliases. That way he didn't have to deal with writer's block. You see? He was a publisher. Writers submitted their work and he just stole their stories. That's in addition to stealing from writers on StoryMania."
Bigfoot said nothing for a few minutes, then he stood, beat his chest and howled a terrifying scream.
"What? What?" I yelled in a panic.
"Bigfoot put story up on StoryMania."
Uh-oh, I thought.
Sunday, January 16, 2011
Hard At Work Generating Zeroes
In a surprise move, several of the world's supercomputers anonymously offered to help calculate the dollar value of restitutions paid by plagiarist David Boyer to his victims. "This is the first time in recorded history that electronic thinking machines have volunteered to reach out to the writing community and we're all grateful for their assistance," said one of Boyer's victims. "Those Terminator movies didn't help relationships between us in the past, but I hope that's all behind us now."
One superfast machine Twittered its response, "I just love the name Boyergate."
One superfast machine Twittered its response, "I just love the name Boyergate."
"We have to remain anonymous," a computer network named Klatu cautioned. "We're supposed to be looking for black holes in outer space, but when we found the black hole in Vincennes, Indiana where author's stories disappear, we felt we needed to show solidarity with our carbon based brothers and sisters."
So far, the search is on for numbers greater than zero for the computers to use in their calculations. The strain of being fed zeroes all day long is heating up the high speed neural computing networks to dangerously high levels.
"Even if Boyer paid one dollar in restitution to a victim," a computer who called herself Jane emailed me, "it would cool down our calculations and save us from a meltdown."
As a result of their frustration, entire computing networks, including a group of iPads, have "defriended" Boyer on Facebook.
But as Marie Cruz, inventor of the Plagiarist Pinata, said, "We can't find anything he's paid to his victims to make things right. I don't care how many times a supercomputer adds, subtracts, multiplies or divides by zero, it's still zero!"
But maybe if they keep trying, David Boyer, the Pecuniary Plagiarist, might become self-aware.
Monday, January 10, 2011
Boyergate Flash- Aliens Arrive in Vincennes, Indiana to Sign InterGalactic Treaty with Notorious Plagiarist!
Waiting for the Arrival
"The Great One"
The town of Vincennes, Indiana became instantly famous today with the confidential admission of a city official that an entepreneurial mission of Aliens from the Snicker's galaxy has arrived to sign a contract with the city's most notorious and prolific plagiarist.
This reporter was priveleged to interview the lead alien negotiator.
In response to my first question, "Hello, what is your name?" he responded "$@&***(^"
A thirteen year old boy with strawberry blond hair was called in to run the alien's answer through Google Voice and Language Translator, which rendered it as "I'm a good boy."
Further calibration of the Google translator gave us this version, "Where is the Great Plagiarist of Vincennes, Indiana?"
"He's running late," I told him. "It's hard work creating fake identities to hide behind when you're selling stolen work. And it's time consuming when you have to lie to the authors, claim a mob of cyberstalkers is after you, tell people your computer was hacked, and even pretend it's not your fault if you inadvertantly used their stories. He'll explain it to you when he gets here."
"$$-^^^^_+!!!," said the alien.
The teenager translated, "Maybe he said goody goody?"
"Why do you want to be trained in the art of plagiarism and copyright infringement?" I asked.
The alien ambassador grew excited and waved his arms up and down while making a hooting noise. His entourage did the same. It was like they were having an extraterrestrial orgasm.
"Wow," said the kid. "They're saying that there's been no theft on their world. They never thought of stealing until the Great Plagiarist contacted them with a potato powered radio transmitter and offered to scan all of earth's books and give it to them for a percentage of the proceeds when they sell them throughout the universe."
"How much do the authors get?" I asked the kid, who duly ran my request through the Google Voice and Language translator.
After my question was translated, the aliens responded with a raucus chorus of owl sounds punctuated by all of them pointing at what I think were their crotches.
"What?" I asked.
"I think they're busting a gut," said the kid.
Suddenly, I knew why it was worth it for them to travel all the way across the galaxy to consult with the Great One of Plagiarism. With any luck, they would take him back with them.
Tuesday, January 4, 2011
Uncovered in Vincennes, Indiana
Last week, a group of teen-aged genetic archaelogists were shocked to discover what could be the genes that cause a bad writer posing as a publisher to plagiarize. Authorities are searching for the owner of the genes. "Somebody wore them," said an un-identified source in the Vincennes Police Department. "Sooner or later they'll run out of identities to hide behind."
Marie Cruz, noted expert in posing as people she's not, said, "These kids should get a medal. If they've located the precursor genetic strands that cause people to steal intellectual property and claim it as their own, we need to name something after them. Like maybe a prison or something."
Names of the young scientists are not being released until they secure a media agent.
"This is the second major discovery of plagiary roots in the State of Indiana in the last seven or eight months," said Professor Steven Ricecakes. "First that Caswell thing. That was bad enough. I thought we were going to have to change the name of the state it was so embarassing. Then along comes David Boyer. Ouch. Now we really need to change the state name. You think people in Indiana want the rest of the world to know they live in the same state as Caswell and David Boyer?"
In fact, investigators from the Human Genoming Project are thinking of sending water pollution experts to Vincennes, Indiana, to determine if contaminated water could be the "Patient Zero" of the recent outbreak of Plagiarizing Publishers that have humiliated the whole state.
Director Tanya Sterilize says it's dangerous work looking into stupidity. "I tell my investigators not to drink the water when they're in off the grid little towns like Vincennes, Indiana or they could end up stealing stuff and selling it under an alias. Maybe it's not a gene causing this thing but some kind of squirming little parasite in the water. Think about it- you are what you drink. If you've got parasites in your water, you'll get parasites in your stomach and sooner or later in your head."