'Rare atmospheric phenomenon'

[jack.h...@gmail.com]

Portugal's grid operator Ren claimed the [power] outage was caused by a fault in the Spanish electricity grid, related to a "rare atmospheric phenomenon". Ren says that, due to extreme temperature variations in Spain, there were "anomalous oscillations" in very high-voltage lines.

I could see no unusual temperatures in Iberia on Monday.

'Rare atmospheric phenomenon' needs a better explanation from someone properly qualified.

I use this opportunity to add a small sci-fi I wrote more than a year ago.

ARSS Bank, in its relentless quest to "provide a better service" to its customers, decided to embark on a grand software upgrade. The upgrade, as they assured their customers, would be seamless, painless, and would revolutionize the way people banked with ARSS.

However, as the upgrade commenced, it became clear that something had gone terribly wrong. The once-stable ARSS banking system was now teetering on the brink of chaos.

The first hint of trouble came when old Mr. Bumbleton, a loyal ARSS customer for more than five decades, attempted to check his latest pension payment. The system, however, had other plans. It promptly froze, trapping Mr. Bumbleton in a digital limbo, his pension payment tantalizingly out of reach.

News of Mr. Bumbleton's predicament - and similar - spread like wildfire. Soon, reports of widespread outages across the ARSS network flooded in. Customers were unable to access their accounts, pay bills, or even withdraw cash. Panic ensued.

In Newfort, a group of pub goers, thirsty and without cash, were turned away from their local watering hole. The ARSS Vita card readers, the only means of payment, had malfunctioned. The pent-up frustration of a cashless society boiled over, and the pub was promptly ransacked.

The riots spread like an epidemic, engulfing the city in chaos. Police cars were torched, shop windows were smashed, and a sense of anarchy prevailed. The authorities, caught off guard by the sudden turn of events, struggled to regain control.

Meanwhile, the Prime Minister, blissfully unaware of the turmoil brewing in the streets, was enjoying a quiet evening at home. That is, until an angry mob, armed with pitchforks and flaming torches, descended upon her doorstep. The Prime Minister, her carefully constructed façade of composure crumbling, made a hasty retreat through the back door.

As the riots raged on, the ARSS Chairman, a man of questionable ethics and an even more questionable haircut, made his escape. He was last seen boarding Leon Skum's BFG, a rocket of dubious origins and an uncertain destination. Rumours swirled that he was headed for Argentivia, a lunar crater known for its lax extradition laws.

The world watched in disbelief as ARSS Bank's software glitch descended into a full-blown economic and social meltdown. The once-proud institution, known for its stability and reliability, was now a symbol of chaos and dysfunction.

In the end, it was the unpaid medical workers who bore the brunt of the crisis. Overwhelmed by a surge of patients and unable to access their paychecks, they staged a mass walk-out. Hospitals were left in disarray, patients died, and the healthcare system teetered on the brink of collapse.

As the dust settled, the world was left to pick up the pieces. ARSS Bank was no more, its legacy forever tarnished by the software glitch that brought a nation to its knees.

Jack