6. The Wabbit and the Meaning of Life

The Wabbit's viewing theatre was formerly in Via Nizza but when it went up for sale, he bought it and moved it, brick by brick. The Department paid. It had become a talking point and as such, could hardly be refused. The Wabbit made one change. It now boasted a state-of-the-art digital cinema projector. Wabsworth scanned the old copy of Byte magazine and using the flash drive, projected the selected page. When they enlarged the page, there it was. Hidden amongst the pixels was a single word. The Wabbit shook his head like a donkey. "'Sign' is hardly a very good password." Lapinette laughed. "It doesn't have to be. It's repeated several times on each page in different formats." Wabsworth cleared his throat. "Any attempt to get closer will bring catastrophic catastrophe." The flash drive laughed. "I told you so." The Wabbit looked stern. "You said it would explain the meaning of life." "That is the meaning of life," replied the drive, "it's as close as you get. Il n'y a pas de hors-texte, so the meaning of life can only be what's left." Lapinette grinned. "Skratch the Cat should be here." "I'll give him his own preview," scowled the Wabbit. Lapinette asked flash drive to keep the old copy of Byte magazine safe - in case anyone unsuitable found it. "What should we call you, we can't keep calling you flash drive." The USB detached from the digital cinema unit. "Jack," he said. "Why Jack?" asked the Wabbit - although he had a clue what he was going to say. "Jumping Jack," came the reply. "He's a gas gas gas." added Wabsworth.

[ Il n'y a pas de hors-texte. From Derrida. "There is nothing outside the text."    Pixel image by by Gerd Altmann at Pixabay]

5. The Wabbit and the Dismal Old Office

The scene changed dramatically. They were in a very old office with very old things. Everything was seedy, tarnished and neglected. Lapinette looked around with distaste. "I hardly believe Byte magazine lived in such seedy surroundings." The Wabbit jumped on an old drawer and started to rifle through a cabinet. "I don't care. Where is it? Where is it? Where is it?" He jumped up and down so hard, the filing cabinet threatened to topple. There wasn't much there at all. Just an empty bottle and an old aspirin. Wabsworth jumped on the other cabinet and made a methodical survey. He finished all the drawers and waved, "Not in here." The flash drive merely sat and waited. He could remember he put it somewhere but not exactly. It was in a magazine in the dingy room, that he knew. Lapinette let out a loud shout. "Must be this one." The cover depicted burglars and she thought that was appropriate to the day. "I remember now!" said the drive, "that's the one!" The Wabbit was getting tetchy. "I want to know now. I want to know the meaning of everything." Wabsworth was philosophical. "If we knew that, we'd know the location of the password." Lapinette leafed through the ancient copy of Byte magazine and then back again. "There's talk of algorithms here." Wabsworth looked at the flash drive and said, "There's debate about who invented you - and when." The flash drive gave a hollow laugh. "I'm here aren't I?" They all turned as Lapinette yelled. "Got it!" "The answer to the meaning of life?" asked the Wabbit. "No," said Lapinette, "the encrypted password. I'll tell you all about the meaning of life - later."

[Original background picture by Tama 66 at Pixabay]

4. The Wabbit and the Encryption Set-up

They followed the flash drive until the basement. That was where it all happened. A keyboard appeared beneath their feet and a metal honeycomb slammed down, cutting it in half. A USB slot with a blue glow shone from the centre as the flash drive moved to dock. They lost their footing as they were pulled close to the slot in the honeycomb. "What's happening, Wabsworth?" The Wabbit was closest and didn't like it. Lapinette followed him, pulled by an enormous force that twisted her arms and legs. Wabsworth let himself go - but he was listening as a stream of characters passed in front of him. He memorised everything. "I think it's best to let go Commander." "We've hardly any choice," said the Wabbit. The Wabbit noticed the drive had nearly docked and he wasn't surprised when it was the wrong way up. It reversed and this time docking was successful.  He smiled. "Maybe that's the password to the meaning of life?" speculated Lapinette. Her frock flattened against the honeycombs. "I wouldn't be surprised," muttered the Wabbit. They were flat against the hexagon, just like on the wall of death. "Honeycomb over here!" shouted Lapinette to the Wabbit as she blew him a kiss. But the Wabbit was in no mood for jokes. He shouted to the flash drive. But the drive had more important business and it made a faint sound as it completed data transfer. "Do you remember Byte magazine," yelled Wabsworth. The Wabbit signified that he did. "Didn't that come with a bottle of vodka?" Wabsworth grinned. "That's where the password is now." 

[Honeycomb by Pete Limford at Pixabay]

3. The Wabbit and the Flash Drive

The leap seemed to span centuries. The key changed materials and with it, its colour.  Now it hung in the air above them. They looked up and couldn't help raising their arms as if in supplication. The key spoke solemnly. "I am the key to end all keys. No key shall go before me." The Wabbit recovered enough to see that it was a computer drive and he said so. "You're a flash drive!" The floating flash drive continued. "I contain the password to the meaning of life." Lapinette swiftly grasped all this. "So what is your password?" she said. "The password is 'password'," said the drive. It laughed long and hard. Wabsworth knew there was rather more to it than that. "And that gets you ... where?" The flash drive performed a swirling revolution and his USB connection sparkled in the light. "That gets you to a series of honey-encrypted algorithmic blocks." Wabsworth knew only too well where that led. "What if you get it wrong?" The Wabbit interrupted. "It blows you to kingdom come?" The flash drive sneered a bit. "Nothing so crude." Lapinette stepped forward. "I know. You have to get it wrong to get it right?" "Maybe, maybe not," said the flash drive, "but if you find me a computer I can plug into, you might find out." Lapinette was intrigued. "Lead the way." The flash drive turned and made it way downstairs. The Wabbit nudged Lapinette. "Do you have a lot of time?" Lapinette looked over her shoulder. "It takes three years to get it in the right way up?"

2. The Wabbit and the Key with No Lock

Wabsworth and the Wabbit followed the key - or rather the key tugged them along. When it turned right into a building and floated upstairs, they were obliged to follow. Lapinette was on the stairway and the key seemed to know because it nodded a kind of greeting. "I've seen that key before," shouted Lapinette. "Hello Lapinette," said the Wabbit. He couldn't stop because the key was pulling hard, and he was stuck. Wabsworth had space to look around. "These stairs go up and down, but which way is up and which down - and which way are we going?" Lapinette peered down. "This is a museum and I'm always confused by these stairs." The Wabbit was tired and his limbs ached. "This never ends well," he puffed. The key came to a halt and hung in mid-air. And then it spoke. "I am the key and I open doors." Lapinette put her paws on her hips. "I expected nothing less." They all stood there for a while, not knowing what to do. The key spoke again. "I require a lock." Wabsworth prodded the Wabbit in the back. "It requested a lock." The Wabbit flounced. "I'm a rabbit, not a locksmith!" The key span around. "With a lock and a key, you're always safe and secure." Lapinette sighed. "Of course!" She looked at the Wabbit. "Wabbit, you have a habit of collecting strange creatures." She gazed at the key and the key became adamant and spoke tersely. "Without a lock, there is no place for a key. Each and every key needs a lock and vice versa."  Wabsworth grinned impishly. "Then what is your particular function, key?" The key faced him. "I am a warded lock key, but I can change into other types of key." The key began to shine, then glow - and then it changed into something quite different ...

1. The Wabbit and the Unexpected Key

The Wabbit was hunting for a particular fabric with Wabsworth his android double. Wabsworth was due at a swish do and he wanted something different to wear. When it came to fabrics, Wabsworth was more adept at rummaging than the Wabbit. The preference of the Wabbit was for ancient vinyl and discarded nuclear motor units. The Wabbit watched Wabsworth turn over items when he noticed something familiar. "It's that key again, Wabsworth." Wabsworth looked across. "My goodness so it is. How did it get here?" The Wabbit was nonplussed. "The last time I saw it was in a drawer full of similar yet miscellaneous objects." Wabsworth laughed. As an android everything he possessed was neatly ordered. "You need lists to make sure keys are accounted for." The Wabbit's obsession with lists was well known. He'd created more and more lists until he needed separate lists to keep track. In consequence, nothing could easily be found. "It's glowing," said the Wabbit. He poked it with a paw. Wabsworth continued to sort through items. "Probably a bit of luminous material rubbed off on it. Perhaps from an old alarm clock?" The Wabbit studied it closely but kept a bit of distance. "Radium, tritium ..? Maybe it's dangerous?" Wabsworth laughed. "You're hardly going to eat it, Wabbit." The Wabbit contemplated eating the key and smiled. "I was trying to find the right keyhole for it." Just at that moment the key span round and lifted into the air. The Wabbit shrugged. "Better follow it!" Wabsworth sighed and gave up sorting. "Low key or a high key adventure?" "Off key," shrugged the Wabbit.

The Wabbit's Adventure Caffè

The team gathered at the Caffè of their choice but something was different. They couldn't sit beside one another. Lapinette arrived and the Wabbit got up to offer her a seat. Skratch the Cat didn't know whether he was coming or going. "It's because of this COVID crisis," explained the Wabbit, "I told them we were rabbits but they seemed adamant." Lapinette was calm as usual. "We just have to fit in," she said. "Well, I'll stay over here and shout," said Skratch. Wabsworth was fortunate in having arrived first, but he was gracious. "Sit here Skratch. I'm an android and I don't mind." "Oh, never a bother," said Skratch, "Maybe I could have that pole?" Lapinette giggled. "Dance or climb?" she asked. Skratch sat down at the next table although he felt awkward. "Perhaps I could tell you what sort of Adventure you just had?" Wabsworth quickly agreed and kept his seat. "We're looking at what I call a hauntology," said Skratch. "Derrida again!" Lapinette was quick to spot repetition. "It's extremely important, Lapinette," said Skratch. "The past living in the present is always - already." "Different forms of temporality can't be interpreted by your philosophy," said Wabsworth. "They're already both dead and alive?" added the Wabbit. "Yes, they can't be captured by the sign - or indeed, the signifier," argued Skratch. Lapinette became intrigued. "Husserl did say there are certain phenomena that cannot be perceived." The Wabbit laughed. "Husserl is a bit of a spectre when he's at home!" But it was Wabsworth who had the last word. "A spectre is haunting our table." They all paused. "The spectre of the missing drinks!" smiled Wabsworth.

[I'm indebted to Asunción López‐Varela Azcárate for Semiotic Hauntologies of Ghosts and Machines.]