The Larry C Paulson Story Portrait of a God

And so it came to pass that Larry C Paulson appeared on the earth. He looked around and he liked what he saw. But Larry's bow was aimed higher. He wanted a world that was better than this. A world where man can have machines to think for him, machines to sort for him, machines to search for him and machines to produce binary trees for him. Larry wanted a world of ideals. Surely he was hoping for too much. But no, he wasn't. There were machines like this already for him to toy with, to manipulate so that he could produce the lazy lists he had only dreamed about - there were stacks to be made and he knew how to make them - Larry C Paulson knew the answer - he knew ML.

Then he went for a ride on the runaway train for he knew that what he could create would change humanity for ever. He deserved a reward. The very next day he set to work on his world altering creation. He bought himself a nice cute lil laptop and he downloaded Moscow ML from somewhere. He knew the Russians had the right idea - why should he trust the bumbling professors at Cambridge who still hadn't even found a cure for cancer, never mind invented a decent programming language.

With his masterplan well under way he began to learn the finer points of that mysterious code known to the very few as ML. Picking up the basics was child's play to him - he wanted to know every subtle trick in the book when it came to this magical language. He wanted to do things with it that nobody had thought of doing and even less were actually able to do. After progressing past the Foundations of Computer Science (and writing a lecture series about it) he moved on to the pillars, spending days and nights hunched over his laptop, staring into the miniature screen but carefully remembering to regularly focus his eyes on something far away and exercise his wrists. Doing thus, he avoided long term physical damage. The hard work paid off - he knew how to get his computer to multiply logarithms that even the worlds greatest mathematicians couldn't calculate.

But he kept going, he knew he could crack this bitch of a language and thus save the world from all its troubles. After 16 months locked away in his attic, he became the ML master. He opened a crate of champagne, downed the lot and then wrote a textbook so that millions of students could follow his example and make the world a better place. He was content.

He unleashed his creation onto the world and he became a household name throughout the world. Babies in Japan were being named Larry in honour of him. Countries as diverse as Nova Scotia and Madagascar built streets on estates and named them after him and his creations. Very soon 97% of the world's towns had a Make Change Street or an Insort Gardens. Larry was a hero. His work made hard labour a thing of the past, famine was eradicated, world debts irrelevant - even the grass seemed greener. But what was a 26 yr old saviour to do when he had successfully completed what he had set out to do? The answer was simple - he would live life to the max.

Where are you now, when your broken eyes are closed? Head in a cloudy dream, green sailboats. Borrowed and never returned, emotions, books, outlooks on life. Hello 20-15! Hello 20-15! In much the same way that he mastered the art of programming, he turned to high speed driving and earned a place on the Ferrari Formula One team.

After just two seasons, he found himself a World Champion, earning himself a BBC Sports Personality of the Year Award. At the ceremony, he made this speech - "Well cheers guys, I mean, I don't know how I managed to beat off such stiff competition this year but it really is an honour to receive such an accolade. I've been told to drag this out a bit so I'll go on a little longer. It's been a number of years since I completed my work with Moscow ML and a lot has changed since then. I cannot take all the credit but I'd like to think that it was my gift to humanity. I know there will be peasant girls in any number of King's castles whose lives have been made easier by my work and I thank God for giving me this undeserved talent. Oh, and thanks for this award too." Such a speech was a simple example of the humour, modesty and metaphorical brilliance of this man so early in his life - at only 29 years old. It was at this ceremony that he first sported his legendary Hedgehog jumper, much admired and much mimicked.

Such a genius gets bored with one hobby in his life so he decided to form a band - a dream that he had had ever since he first picked up a Unix manual. He formed a goth rock band called Larry Manson whose primary intent was to push the boundaries of taste and censorship in this new world which didn't experience the dark side of life as it had before his revolutions. The band's first album, "I Am Your God (Fuck Me)" was met with harsh criticism although the accompanying world tour was a sell out. The follow up, "WWII was a Laugh" was banned from all branches of Wal Mart due to its obscene language and the cover art showing a naked soldier riddled with bullet holes. Filmaker Nick Keycamp followed the group around during the next world tour, nicknamed the No-Mans Land tour, and made a documentary of their experiences. Episodes including the disembowelment of a female groupie and the eating of a live panda meant that the film was never actually released officially but lived life being spread around across the internet by only the loyalist of Larry Manson fans, who became known as Larryites. The world was not ready and not willing to accept the concept that was Larry Manson and he was soon despised for his attempts to reverse his own effects. He became bankrupt and very soon his celebrity disappeared. He escaped back to a cabin in the mountains of his native Columbia to play some acoustic guitar.

He sat moping around in his cabin, experimenting with augmented sevenths and diminished thirds in order to get that much desired 'vibe' but to no avail. He felt terrible - after all, this was the first time that he had failed at something. He pondered why, after such a successful scientific and then sporting career, he did so dismally in the music business. And then he thought back to those days when soap stars turned their hand to music. Or when football teams released a record. They never did well, did they? Aha, he thought, that is the answer - you cannot enter the music world and already have celebrity. He took solace in this train of thought and became more cheery. He wondered how he could turn his new found anonymity to his advantage and, preferably, the advantage of the world.

So, after much deliberation, he came up with international espionage - the logical conclusion. He was able to walk along the streets of London for the first time without being picked out of the crowd and made his way to the MI5 HQ. The head honchos there soon picked up on the asset that their new recruit could be to the organisation - a genius with a quick eye and fantastic driving technique and who was all but forgotten about. Perfect. His first mission took place in the outer reaches of somewhere in the former USSR, not far from a ski resort but far enough to be able to conceal an evil madman's revolving restaurant hideout. Not being thoroughly trained in the art of plough turns and the like, Larry gave the crazy gadget guy a blueprint for a microchip he had developed that could be implanted into his brain so as to make him a ski wizard and, while he was at it, an expert in the art of love (making). He considered the world of secretly servicing her Majesty very sexy and so figured this was the time in his life that he might actually pull some fitness. And he did. Unfortunately, after doing the deed for the first time in his loveless life, the muscled Russian babe he had picked up turned out to be working for the other side. Not even a cute red hedgehog jumper can keep a ruthless communist from completing her orders.

And so after having his head between her thighs for what seemed like a rather long time, he found himself in the evil lair of Dr Kennedy, a vicious psycho bloke intent on world domination. Quite why he had decided to kick things off in the former USSR is anyone's guess but there you go... he was mad. Larry was tortured with scenes of kids' heads being ripped off and 9V batteries being licked in order for him to spill all he knew. Unfortunately, Larry knew quite a lot and Dr Kennedy wasn't particularly interested in big O notation. After several days of cruel torture Dr Kennedy gave up and decided to kill the pesky Larry C Paulson. Inexplicably, Dr Kennedy had managed to pull his rather foxy secretary, Sarah and so used her as his bait for Larry, who he knew could never refuse a lady.

Larry was released in front of a bridge. Sarah was standing on the other end. What was Larry to do but walk over, sweep her up in his arms and make a speedy escape? And so Larry did just that. Alas, Dr Kennedy had a surprise in store for him and blew up the bridge whilst Larry was halfway across. But Larry had a surprise for Dr Kennedy in return and had also planted a chip in himself that could aid him manipulate himself. He turned himself into a velociraptor and with his new remarkable swiftness, managed to peg it across the bridge, snatch up the fine Sarah in his claws and run to safety. Dr Kennedy kicked himself for letting Larry escape but he got over it.

But he didn't get over it for long because as soon as he escaped the confines of Dr Kennedy's lair of evil, Larry changed back into his former self and, after giving Sarah a passionate peck on the cheek, turned his arm into a missile launcher and blew up the restaurant which revolved no longer. After returning his arm to its former, more useful state (and getting rid of a few of those little grey hairs), he swept Sarah in his arms and flew up into the air using his go-gadget helicopter hat. He accidentally dropped her over Luxembourg and felt really bad about it (even if she had survived, she'd have died from boredom).

He returned to London HQ a saviour of the world once again. The fickle world forgot about the Larry Manson era and once again, he was unable to walk the streets of London without being recognised and held high. Then one day, he was sitting under a tree, musing at how great life was and he noticed a lump of cheese. On closer inspection, he noticed it had a sticker with Eat Me on it and so did what he was told. He was obedient like that. It was good cheese - mild, little and in a red wax bundle of joy. But, oh no, what was happening? He was shrinking! Jeez Louise, wha go'on innit?

When he stopped shrinking, he found a bottle of coke and looked at himself in it. He had turned into a mouse and suddenly befriended a weird mole with glasses. He later found out that Ronnie Corbett had found some cheese too and the mole was the result. Larry took it on himself to put Ronnie through as much physical torment as possible. He roamed the country looking for a place to live and decided upon those dreamy spires of Cambridge - well, a postbox in Cambridge anyway. Even though he knew that their version of ML was far inferior to that of Moscow, he felt that this was a place that he could feel comfortable and unbothered in. He lived well with Ronnie - they made a good double act, something Ronnie hadn't experienced before and that made him happy at least. But Larry was restless.

One day, whilst rooting through the bins behind McDonalds for scraps of food, he came across a little vial with Drink Me written on it. "Aha, maybe this is the answer," he thought and, by God, it was. There's a bit of luck. He grew and grew until he became the Larry that we all know and love. With the sole desire of a quiet end to his days, he took up a post at the University as a lecturer in his beloved ML. He lived the rest of his life surrounded by what he loved the most, passing his knowledge onto the future of society. Ronnie still lives in that postbox and entertains himself with long winded jokes with punchlines not really worth waiting for.