Kahvi first wrote
to me in May, 2000:
"Without
your site I would have probably entered the state of slight
frustration which would have caused me to take a huge kitchen
knife and cut innocent people and painting houses with
their blood while listening to gospel music. Thank
you."
Now, this isn't
the first time the Handy Vandal has received praise
for the Almanac. But something about his message was different --
a tone of gleeful, irrepenitent mayhem which I found amusing.
His next email
continued in a similar vein, with added tones of menace and retribution:
You are probably
rather busy. I know that compared to you, I am an insignificant
inferior subhuman, the kind of a person a godlike
creature like you could notice only when you clean your shoes,
so I humbly bow before you and beg for your assistance.
But if you
are unable to answer my problem, I will get upset. As a result
of this I would first play Soldier Of Fortune for 40 days
without sleep or coffee.
During this stage I would emit sparks, glow and scream
in a way that would discourage most people to enter my room,
interrupting my playing session.
After this
I would lock myself in a small titanium box with food
and oxygen supplies. I would stay there until I would be
strong enough to break out. Then I would buy as many
dull objects as I could carry before my spine would telescope.
Then I would break into your house, scream and pierce your flesh
with my weaponlike dull objects. I would continue that until some
of your drunken friends
would come in and puke on me. Then I would melt down
on the floor, and the only thing I could do would be to bubble
violently when you, in some way, would dispose of me.
In conclusion,
you are my supreme ruler and potentate and my mere
existence depends on you, no matter what I do. I hail you as my
creator and controller. Please do not fill
my house with giant acid-spraying devil octopi although I
threatened you in an unforgiveable way. Of course I couldn't
have even inflicted any real damage to you. I couldn't cause
a mild, enjoyable feeling of pain even if I had used sharp
objects, because like the dull ones, they would have broken
before even making contact with you.
Now, I like to
think of myself as the King of Hyperbole -- not one easily cowed by
lurid threats. (Furthermore, let's suppose that I did fill his house
with giant acid-spraying devil octopi. Can you imagine the police
investigation? The insurance paperwork? The ugly media coverage? I
don't need that kind of publicity, thank you.) Furthermore, Kahvi
lives in Finland, whereas I live in central North America:
therefore his rampant invective did not cause me to lose much sleep.
Not long thereafter,
he wrote again:
"I know
I have praised you before, but one time just doesn't seem enough.
The mere existance of your site has saved a small village
from getting eradicated by a frustrated knifeman. You are the one
who gives me relief from the desperate pain of ignorance,
which is not a bliss but a burden. Without you, the stress would
have degenerated my brains and all the remains of reasonable logical
thinking typical to human beings would have concentrated on
different ways to kill very painfully. If it has been written so,
my coming level will rise up from the shadows to the light
and glory and I shall be a celebrated hero second only
to you."
Clearly
this is a game designer with profound appreciation of epic poetry,
and a gift for shameless flattery.
Curious
what motivates such a man, I sent him an email, asking about that
small village. He replied:
Now that you
mentioned it, I would definitely not know which village to eradicate
(suspecting that I would be the frustrated knifeman, which
may be pretty obvious at this stage). The problem is that knife-
and axe-fights are a Finnish
tradition and most people are good at them. Another downside
is that I have not exercised any kind of an organic activity
for a long time. I currently use my arms only to deliver
signals to my fingers. Maybe wrath
against this dysfunctional society would give me extra strength.
By this time I
had posted two excerpts from his emails to my website. I made the
mistake of telling him -- mistakenly -- that he was the only person
so honored ... as I found out upon reading his ferociously indignant
reply:
Although I am
no more than a man, I may be mighty, and my wrath
will be horrifying! One day student outsmarts his
teacher, son is stronger than his father! If this
act was made to give me a false feeling of pride,
fear for my revenge! In its utmost vigor, it will
make empires fall and
turn mountains into valleys!
If this was
merely an innocent mistake then forgive me my previous thundering.
You are still mightier than me, and the day it will change is far
ahead, if it will even come.
He was quite right
about my mistake: another name appeared twice on the Praise page.
Obviously I was in the wrong, and I said so. But I felt that a more
constructive apology was called for, so I created this page, to honor
the poetic genius of his violent rhetorical excesses. When I told
him so, he replied with the following:
An .asp dedicated
to me! I cannot find the words
to show you how grateful and honored I am! The mighty potentate
of the Half-Life playing world has had time for a small subhuman
with no real abilities! My hard-working but utterly insignificant
heart is drowning in pure JOY!
I wish to be your humble and loyal servant to my death!
Without your
wisdom and effort, we would
all be in chaos! You are the wind beneath my wings! Your tribute
creates a warm feeling in my mind! When that time comes, I will
name my firstborn son after you! My life has a meaning!
I will not come a miserable Finnish Koskenkorva-drinker!
I will never have to rob shopping carts in parking lots and
get hit with cabbages!
And
furthermore:
Because of you,
my heart is warm and my ego is pumped! I accept your
apology about that innocent mistake. At least an .asp is a singular
honor, for a regular person! Your compliments have a significant
positive influence to my life! I have rejected all
forms of real-life violence and started exercising healthy activities,
such as eating, drinking and sleeping! Although
it is autumn, I am surrounded by a healthy glow as a result
of your kindness! My touch heals dead squirrels and bunnies
and makes them run wildly and happily across the countryside! I
have found great ESP-powers inside my mind which I use to
make this world a better place!
My mother asks
me to send greetings to you.
I'm
sure his mother is proud of his accomplishments. And rightly so. For
monomaniacal devotion to heroic saga, none surpass Kahvi.
"Ora!!! Ora!!!
Adequatio bonorum Ultima Thule!
"Cuspides
inestis Gubernationi!!!"
- Genitor Kahvi
Email Kahvi:
tualvi@mantta.fi
