Whois 007

It's funny what you remember and when you remember it. There was an odd-shaped classroom tucked away in the corner of the level. There would always be people who climbed out of the window. There was always someone who would be sweating in the air-conditioning, and the marks of a football on the white walls. And even if it turned out to be ten years later, twenty years later, thirty years later, these things would still not really have changed.

The last Whois challenge drew fewer responses and yet more hits than any other. Was it that obvious? I suppose it was. Everyone seems to remember that first line of Danny Boy, "... the pipes, the pipes are callin'..." Yes, it's a very bad pun, almost arbitrary. The other guy, as some people will know him, was identified by a 'toitle' and manically highlighted by a dancer. But what of this person?

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One might get the impression that this paleface speaks with forked tongue, judging from an illustrious career in circumlocutory extravagance. From a distance one might think that the long-term partnership formed with a significant other would make them look like a mad scientist and Frankenstein's monster – but neither is mad, neither is a monster, and both have chosen not to be scientists. Instead they stand together for some unidentified cause. In the end the habit of confession marks this person, for it is inextricably inclined with nationalist tendencies and the moment of parturition. The creature is undoubtedly intelligent, but why the angst, why the terrible moments of emotionality? Why the criminalisation and incriminations? These things portend the future in a flock of birds...

Who is this?