Copy Link
Add to Bookmark
Report
Information Communication Supply Volume 1 Issue 6
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
################ ################### #########
### ## ## ## ##
### ## ##
### ## ##
### ## ####
### ## ####
### ## ##
### ## ##
### ## ## ## ##
################ ################## #########
I n f o r m a t i o n, C o m m u n i c a t i o n, S u p p l y
E L E C T R O Z I N E
Information Communication Supply 10/5/93 Vol.1:Issue.6 Part:1
Email To: ORG_ZINE@WSC.COLORADO.EDU
E D I T O R S: Local Alias: Email: ICS Positions:
============== ============ ====== ==============
Deva Winblood MeTaL MaSTeR, ADP_DEVA Technical Director,
Ephemeral Ask Deva, Tales of the
Presence Unknown, Editing
Ted Sanders Zorro STU520256399 Writer, Final Editor,
Subscriptions, Fragment
Design, Final Opinion
Jeremy Bek rApIeR STU521279258 Layout, Writer, Editing,
Subscriptions, Letters,
Role Playing Games,
Fragment Design
Jeremy Greene Diabolus STU521139287 Technical Editor,
Subscriptions
Clint Thompson None ADP_CLINT Editing, Writer
Steven Peterson Rufus T. Firefly STU388801940 Editing, Writer
Russel Hutchinson Burnout Writer, Subscriptions,
Editing
George Sibley MAC_FAC FAC_SIBLEY Editing, Supervisor
_____________________________________________________________________________
/ \
| ICS is an Electrozine distributed by students of Western State |
| College in Gunnison, Colorado. We are here to gather information about |
| topics that are important to us all as human beings. If you would like |
| to send in a submission please type it into an ASCII format and mail it |
| to us. We operate on the assumption that if you mail us something you |
| want it to be published. We will do our best to make sure it is |
| distributed and will always inform you when or if it is used. |
| See the end of this issue for submission information. |
\_____________________________________________________________________________/
REDISTRIBUTION: If any part of this issue is copied or used elsewhere
you must give credit to the author and indicate that the information
came from ICS Electrozine ORG_ZINE@WSC.COLORADO.EDU.
DISCLAIMER: The views represented herein do not necessarily represent the
views of the editors of ICS. contributors to ICS assume all
responsibilities for ensuring that articles/submissions are not violating
copyright laws and protections.
|\__________________________________________________/|
| \ / |
| \ T A B L E O F C O N T E N T S / |
| / \ |
| /________________________________________________\ |
|/ \|
| Included in the table of contents you will see some|
| generic symbols to help you in making your |
| decisions on whether an article is something that |
| may use ideas, and/or language that could be |
| offensive to some. S = Sexual Content |
| AL = Adult Language V = Violence O = Opinions |
|____________________________________________________|
| |
| I. First Opinion by Deva Winblood |
| |
| II. New Prejudices by Steven Peterson (O) |
| |
| III. Everyone Needs a Little Magic (O) |
| by Russ Hutchison |
| |
| IV. i wish i could write by Clint Thompson |
| |
| V. An Eagle Speaks on Evolution |
| by George Sibley |
| |
| VI. Eye Opener by Russ Hutchinson (V,S,Al) |
| |
| VII. Almost Middle Opinion by Jeremy Bek |
| |
| 1) Right After the Middle Word By Jeremy Bek |
| |
| 2) Thaumaturgy(Part 1) By Jason Manzcur (O) |
| |
| 3) Women By JamiJo Tobey |
| |
| 4) The Ones We Love By Russ Hutchison (V,AL) |
| |
| 5) Networking School Day(Part 1) By |
| Ted Sanders (O) |
| 6) ListServes By Jeremy Bek (O) |
| |
| 7) The Final Word By Ted Sanders (O) |
\____________________________________________________/
[][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][]
/\___________________________________/\
| \ / |
| \ F I R S T O P I N I O N / |
|/\ \ / /\|
|\/ / By \ \/|
| / \ |
| / Deva Bryson Winblood \ |
|/___________________________________\|
Greetings,
We finally managed to send you issue number five, and just to
prove we are back and producing zines on an ALMOST regular
basis, here begins ICS Electrozine issue number six. The staff is
changing as regularly as we produce new issues. *snicker*
This is the first ICS issue to be sent out in fragment form. The
survey that was sent out during the spring indicated that a large
percentage of our subscribers wanted ICS to be sent to them in
smaller and more frequent issues. Thus, we are switching to the
fragment system. We will be sending each issue out in the form
of two or three fragments. These fragments will then be compiled
into one large issue to be stored on anonymous FTP archive sites.
The new staff and the old are gradually going their own ways, as
not all people can continue to put as much time into the zine as
is neccessary. This is my way of saying that my presence in the
ICS Electrozine will be much less than it has been in the past.
I still plan to write for ICS, but I am also giving the new regime
their chance to do the zine better and take it to new heights.
After this issue, Jeremy Bek will be the ICS Technical Director and
I will be on call if something arises that the regular ICS staff
cannot handle. Anyone that would like to learn of my other
internet projects feel free to write me at through EMAIL and I
will let you know what things new are being contemplated. You
can mail me at ADP_DEVA@WSC.COLORADO.EDU.
This issue features a review of a unique card game. The review
is written by Russell Hutchison. This issue is also being put
together by Jeremy Bek as his first attempt. So, contact him
at ORG_ZINE@WSC.COLORADO.EDU if you have any comments, criticisms,
or just want to congratulate him on his meteoric promotion.
Let this issue represent the dawning of a new era. Let the staff
know if you like what you see.
Deva Winblood - ICS Technical Director 10/26/1993
[][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][]
{******************}
/ \
*( New Prejudices )*
\ /
{******************}
By Steven Peterson
In this, my maiden voyage into the brave new world of electronic
communication, I would like to explore my reactions to the impending
changes facing the television industry in America. As I sit here, large
multi-national corporations are battling for control of the next stage
of cable television expansion. This expansion involves bringing hundreds
of channels to the average citizen of our country, allowing individuals
to specifically program entertainment in a pseudo-interactive way. In
using the term "pseudo-interactive", I am attempting to describe the
limitations of programming choices offered by our entertainment
industry and the implied boundaries this will place on true
intellectual engagement. American television has evolved to a point
where it effectively defines reality for a growing segment of our
population. Realizing this fact, various corporate and political
entities have fused psychology, marketing, and video technology to
create a new science of indoctrination. The intellectually passive
nature of television provides a perfect forum for the dissemination of
these new, subtle forms of propagandistic persuasion. Currently,
free-market demands are the only limiting force (aside from our Federal
Communications Commission) controlling manipulative programming.
In many ways, the American theatre of television has compromised our
democratic form of self-government. Our entire electoral process is
already conducted as a sort of "ratings battle". We elect our leaders
pretty much on the basis of appearance. All of our major (and many minor)
political decisions are now resolved according to criteria imposed by
broadcast methods. Our elected leaders are more or less forced to reduce
any statements of policy to "sound-bites", six to eight second fragments
of discourse designed to appeal to television news editors. These fragmented
statements effectively alienate viewers from adopting a well-informed
position on any of the major issues facing our nation. Cut off from any
valid forms of political revelation, the average citizen in America has
grown to view the entire republican approach to government as divorced
from the effects of individual involvement and perhaps beyond comprehension.
Personally, I feel it is this "distancing" that is responsible for the lack
of civic identification I have felt over the course of my life. I simply
cannot develop any measure of respect for community leaders who seem to
be "playing for the camera". And play for the camera they do ... from minor
press conferences to national elections, image has replaced substance as
the common coin of political success. All too often, political indiscretions
are obscured and hidden by finely crafted efforts to manipulate public
reaction to imagery. The media's portrayal of Oliver North springs to mind
as a perfect example of this use of imagery. I believe most Americans wanted
to believe the defense this "all-american" looking patriot offered during the
potentially devastating Iran-Contra trial. When faced with allegations
of massive improprieties condoned by our President (an inference on my
part), our citizenry generally chose to accept any explanations
this seemingly upstanding individual offered. It is this willingness to
accept the world as it is portrayed on television as reality that
concerns me. This modern "blind-faith" compromises any attempts to challenge
(and improve) the course of our development as a nation and as individuals.
Ironically, Americans depend on this same media to expose and protect
ourselves against these types of abuse. When technology gains the capacity
to control and influence our standards for expression, public and private,
it also gains the potential to control the minds and hearts of every
individual in our society.
Socially, the spectre of five hundred channels of programmable
entertainment will most likely contribute to the increasing
fragmentation of our society. Allowed to descend into the depths of
factional interests, most individuals will see little reason to
"decentrate", or attempt to understand other's perspectives. At this
point, I run into one of the central conflicts inherent in the
"information age" - how to balance highly specialized information
against a bewildering array of valid viewpoints without becoming bogged
down in a morass of confusion. This lack of a viable common context in
which to place our individual impressions and beliefs effectively
prohibits the use of technology as a focal point for unifying the people
of a nation. On the bright side, technology does offer the people of our
world the chance to dissolve the barriers which separate us physically
and intellectually.
The most troubling aspect of this cable revolution is the
overwhelming amount of control large corporate entities are battling
over. These corporations are seeking to control the sources of
programming material as well as the mechanical means of delivery. They
seem to be willing to offer hundreds of choices, but they will still
retain control over which choices you are allowed to make. I find this
system somewhat reminiscent of the former Soviet Communist Party's methods of
maintaining and controlling power. Ultimately, our most fundamental
right to simply turn the damned thing off may be compromised by strong
social pressure to "participate" in this new culture. Given the choice
between a propoganda-free mind and social isolation, most Americans will
choose "interpersonal" indoctrination every time. This new multi-
billion dollar industry will create an opportunity to amass the
necessary capital for monopolistic control over the production
facilities required to produce programs. I can easily forsee the
anti-trust suits that should accompany the resolution of the corporate
take-over battles, and I truly hope that there is an organization out
there with the courage to file a true "class-action" suit.
Perhaps I have just grown cynical about the average level of
independent thinking American citizens are capable of. Then again, I
walk into my college classrooms and see my peers (?) approaching
education itself as a passive activity. Bean counters, I call 'em,
people who are attempting to collect their daily doses of knowledge with
this unstated expectation that wisdom will magically spring forth
with no effort on their part. This attitude, a product of television
viewing habits, insidiously taints my education by forcing the
faculty of my college to "play" to this type of student audience.
Simply increasing the scope of material available doesn't promise to alter
this fundamentally passive habit of blindly accepting statements made
from a position of relative authority.
So, is there a solution to this dilemma? Probably not. Television
has gained such a powerful hold over our society that any attempts to
regulate it will be resisted by entities with the money and clout
required to block any such attempts. The real battle will be fought at
the individual level by people committed to maintaining the intellectual
integrity of our nation. Personally, I am currently preparing to embark
on a career of secondary teaching, so this issue is of more than passing
concern to me. The spectre of a sub-literate nation controlling vast
nuclear and other weapons technology doesn't exactly fill me with
confidence, or hope. The final irony may be that the technological
revolution responsible for these weapons may also rob us of the
judgement required to maintain control over it.
"The life of every man who dissents from prevailing ideas is
bound to be more or less lonely".
- H.L. Mencken
[][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][]
_______
/ /-\ \
/\ /\ /\ | \_/ | /\ /\ /\
/ \/ \/ \|_______|/ \/ \/ \
/ Everyone Needs a Little Magic \
__/___________________________________\__
( )
\ By Russell Hutchison /
/ ----------------------------------------\
Recently I was in a game store in Colorado Springs when a friend of
mine noticed four decks of cards of the game Magic, The Gathering, on
display. He pointed them out to me and informed me that the game was
sweeping the nation. In fact, he had called around to multiple game
distributers all over the mid-west and said he wanted some Magic. "Doesn't
everybody", was the common response. After hearing several stories
from the shop owner about how fast the game was selling (Up to 40 decks
of cards after one demonstration!) I decided to get a deck and try it
out. My friend whipped out his VISA and bought the other three. I felt
that he was going over board with the game, until I played it for the
first time. Now I wish I had bought at least another deck.
The game was designed by Richard Garfield Ph.D., and is published
by Wizards of the Coast, Inc. It is a combination of trading cards
with art from over 20 artists and a card game that is more or less like
the card game called War, except infinitely more interesting and fun.
Within each deck of cards are cards which represent various types of Land,
Creatures, Artifacts, and Spells. Land cards represent the the magic
power that is accessable to each player. Certain types of land are
necessary to put different cards in play. Creatures are used to cause
"damage" to your opponent and to defend you from your opponents'
creatures. Artifacts are cards that are used to strengthen your power
and weaken your enemy. Spell cards are used to damage your opponent,
his/her creatures, or artifacts and strengthen your creatures.
The most common game played is a two player version, called a Duel,
but multi-player games are possible. Games are usually played to win
an ante of one random card. By winning certain games the strength of
your deck will increase (or decrease) and there will be weaknesses that
you will need to repair through trading or Duels.
One aspect of the game that makes it much more interesting is that
there are 300 cards in the series (so far) and each deck holds only 60
randomly selected cards. Thus, the contents of any one deck is never
known when opponents first meet. More types of cards are in the works
and so are booster packs for those who just want to add a little spice
to their decks.
All in all this game is one of the most fun games to hit the scene
in quite some time. The play testers of the game have been playing
for more than two years and are still going strong. So, I have high
hopes that this game will provide entertainment for many years to come.
For more information there is a listserv that is accessable by sending
the message "subscribe gg-1 YourRealName" to listserv@wizards.com.
[][][][][][][][][][][][]][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][[][][][][][][][][][][][][]
/-------------------------------------------------\
)============== i wish i could write =============(
\_________________________________________________/
i wish i could write.
i wish i could reach the
deepest
deep
of my soul with a pen,
and wrench it free.
i wish i could write
the wings of a bird,
or explain the sound of
love
in spring.
i wish i could capture
the taste, in a word, of
a breath of
mountain air
at twilight.
the sun in twisting robes of red and orange
descends
into
her bed.
no, i must watch the moment
then watch the moment leave...
unable to hold it here
with paper and ink.
the greatest moments of my life
are volumes
only read by me.
unable to live by paper and pen
for all the world to see.
Clint Thompson
[][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][]
________________________________________________
AN EAGLE SPEAKS ON EVOLUTION )
___________________________________________)----
_____________________________________)
_____________________________)
______________________)
It's a story eagles have always told,
But humans are just again learning to hear it.
It's a story from back when the dragons ruled
And bigger was known to be better:
Bigger and tougher and more armored against all
Even life, those were the standards:
Might made right; the strong got stronger
And the big just got bigger and bigger.
That's like the story the humans tell;
But as humans tell it, it goes nowhere:
Things changed, and the dragons simply perished.
But the story the eagles tell is different,
The story humans are just learning to hear.
The way the eagles tell it, some of the little dragons,
Little in some ways, but strong in their own way,
Began to change too.
They gave up on the claws and armor;
And their claws grew long and delicate and fragile,
And their scales became long, soft and fluffy.
How the big dragons laughed!
Har! Har! thundered the thunder-dragons,
As the soft little lizards hopped and flapped along
Little soaring leaps to avoid being clawed and bashed
Trampled and smashed by the heavy armored feet.
But the webbing claws and the feathering scales
Continued to lengthen even as the thunder-dragons
Continued to laugh their thunderous laugh, repeating the wisdom:
Bigger is better; might makes right; nothing succeeds
Like success: bigger claws and thicker scales--
Think of that now, says the eagle,
As you watch me ride the shatter of light
Up the face of the mountain.
Think of that as you strain to see the cranes
A mile up with their great transcontinental wingbeat,
Or follow the dart and swoop of the swallow.
Think of that as you look for your way
In a world going mad with bigness, toughness, armor.
--George Sibley
[][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][]
_ _ _
|_____|
/ ____ \
Eye Opener / / \ \
| | 1:11| |
| | am| |:
By Russell Hutchison \ \___/ /
\_____/
|_ _ _|
| _ _ |
The dark cloak of sleep was pulled slowly away from Eric's eyes
and mind. He knew something was happening, something important, but he
felt as if he was trying to think through a black gauze bandage. The
young boy opened one of his eyes, his half-gaze fell upon a small,
dark, hunched shape, with multiple, blazing red eyes, squatting well
within his arms reach. Panic started to build in Eric's chest with a
warm pressure and a heady, almost fuzzy feeling gripped his still
groggy mind as adrenaline kick started his thoughts. At the same
time the creature's unseen jaws snapped shut. Eric hardly noticed that
he screamed as he slammed his back into the wall behind his bed, trying,
by force of will, to merge with the wall or grind a path to safety through
it with his shoulder blades. The creature, which seemed to be smaller
than a toaster, didn't even flinch. Eric's vision finally cleared and in
the weak moonlight he found himself staring at the glowing face of his
new digital clock. He stared at it a while longer while his breathing
returned to normal and his hands began to shake slightly.
The sound of foot steps approaching his closed door and his
mother's voice calling his name helped to calm him down. The door was
pushed open and the vague shape of his mother's head poked through the
dark rupture.
"Eric, honey, are you alright?" Eric could hear the worry in his
mother's voice and the sound of her hand sliding across the wall, vainly
searching for the light switch. He closed his eyes, waiting for his
vision to become red.
"I'm fine, mom." Eric heard the heavy, ponderous footsteps of his
barrel-chested father coming closer. "I had a bad dream, and the clock
scared me."
"We heard you scream," his mom said. There was a sharp click and
the insides of Eric's eyes glowed red.
"Yeah, I thought the clock was a monster, it scared me."
"Awful short monster," said his father from the hall. His balding
head visible in the light spilling over the mother's shoulder into the
hall. "I don't think you have anything to worry about, son." A yawn
contorted his face into the visage of a man in pain. "Good night, pup."
The father disappeared from view.
"Good night, dad."
"Good night, Eric. Get some sleep, you have school tomorrow."
"Yes, mom. I love you."
Eric looked back at the clock, making sure that it was really a
clock. A small tag was taped to the clock. It read: "Happy eleventh
birthday! Love ya bro', Mike." There was a click and the room was
draped in darkness again. Only the glowing numbers on the clock were
visible as his eyes adjusted back to the moonlight. Eric watched the
time change from 1:10 A.M. to 1:11, and his night vision had almost
completely returned.
But the horror, when, in the crystalline silence left in the wake of his
parent's departure, the sound of the monster's jaws snapping shut sounded
from the far side of the room. Eric tore his gaze from the glowing machine
and tried, fruitlessly, to spot the creature. But the moonlight pooling on
the floor made the section of the room between the window and the light
as black as pitch. Young Eric was about to call to his parents again
when the sound happened again. But this time he knew the source.
Someone was bouncing pebbles off his window.
Eric hopped out of bed and walked quietly to the window. Pressing
his face against the cool, clear glass he saw his best friend, Paul,
waving to him from the ground, one floor down. Wasting no time, Eric put
on warm clothes that were warm and dark in color. He then slipped out
his bedroom door and took his usual path, the one where he knew all
the squeaky floor-boards to the front door. He checked to make sure he
had the key in his pocket before he closed the door. While he did this
Paul had come around the corner of the house, moving in the shadows around
the base of the house. The two boys held their greetings until after
the door was closed and they had safely crossed the street into a greenbelt
between the neighbors yards.
Eric slapped Paul on his shoulder, "You dork, you scared the hell
out of me! I thought Mike's clock was a monster...for a second."
"It's good to see you, too. I sneak out of my house, risk getting
grounded for life by seeing you, all just to say happy birthday, and you
slap me because your rapist brother's clock scares you. " Gawd, what a
jerk!" Paul, with arms akimbo, fixes Eric with a gaze of mock hurt.
"I'm sorry about hitting you, but I was scared...and don't talk
like my brother is bad. He's my family...even if he was guilty. And
how can you say bad stuff about him when he used to play with us both
all the time?"
"I guess my mom is rubbing off on me. She still forbids me to see
you. I guess she thinks that you'll turn out bad too, and you'll pull
me down with you. She says that you only care about him because you've
never known a female who was raped."
"Bull, I know what I feel! Your mom is full of it!"
"Who cares anyway? I just want to go stealthin'. We haven't done
that since Mike's trial."
"Yeah, lets go. I...I need to be moving or something."
The two boys started to play their game of stealthin', and within
twenty minutes of dodging and hiding from cars and people Eric's humor
returned. But then, while they were hiding in a bush, the faint sound
of Paul's mom calling his name drifted to their silent hiding place.
"Oh no! I gotta go! I'll see you later, Eric," Paul jumped up from
behind the bush, startling a group of college kids who were heading home
from last call.
"Take care!" whispered Eric, but Paul was long gone.
When the students had passed he stood up and decided that it would
be best to go home. He began to sneak his way from bush to bush, and
car to car. He only had a few blocks to go and was cutting through a
greenbelt when he noticed the dark shape of someone walking into the
other end. The person was stumbling around, drunk, and since he was
already hidden Eric thought that he would stay behind a bush and wait
until the person was gone. As the dark figure got closer he could tell
it was a woman. Then, a large figure burst from the bushes, followed by
two more. The first shadow tackled the woman with a shoulder in the
small of her back. Eric heard the breath burst from her lungs as she
hit the ground. Then the other two shadows swarmed over her. He
watched as they cursed at her, wrapping their hands around her throat,
hit her, tore her clothes. All the time he could hear the woman's sobs,
labored breathing, and choked off pleas to be released.
Eric was shaking, he knew he had to do something. Everything was
so terrible that he felt like he was watching T.V. Then it occured to
him that, if it was T.V. then he couldn't get hurt. All he would have
to do is yell or something, then the shadows would leave. Slowly he
stepped around the side of the bush. The dark pile of people was making
strange noises and saying words that only older kids used before they
fought. Eric tried to yell but he couldn't while looking at the
writhing pile. He looked up and tried to keep away the sounds by covering
his ears.
"Go away," he said, in a voice barely louder than a whisper.
"GO AWAY!" his shriek tore the muffled comments of the shadows into
silence.
"GO AWAY!" He yelled again. Eric was starting to feel panic, like
he was watching the dark monster again, but this time it was moving.
This time it was saying words, words that he couldn't understand. They
were quiet, deep in tone and spoken quickly. It's voice was like a
hypnotic spell that was placing the black gauze back around his mind.
Then a small wimper, from a female voice, escaped from under the
monster. The spell was broken and Eric inhaled to scream again. But
the monster struck and the world flashed bright as the sun, then faded
to darkness.
When he woke it was still dark. There was no sign of the
monster or the woman, except for a piece of clothing or two. Eric
couldn't see out of one eye and his face ached with heat and pain.
He ran the rest of the way home, racing through the neighborhood like
something was chasing him. He threw open his door and rushed through
his house. As he ran, a long yell began to leave his throat. He shoved
open his door, slamming it into the wall. In three steps he was on top of
the monster squatting by his bed. He grasped it by the tail and whipped
it against the nightstand over and over, screaming.
"I HATE YOU, I HATE YOU..." finally the monster shattered in
his grasp. Eric dropped to the ground and began to cry. The world
flared white and a pair of arms grabbed his shoulders. It was his
mother.
"What's wrong, what are you doing?!"
Eric looked down at his hand, where an electrical cord was clenched
instead of a tail. A tag reading: "Happy eleventh birthday! Love ya
bro', Mike" lay in the wreckage of the clock.
"I never want to see Mike again," Eric whispered. "He's a
monster."
"What happend to your face?"
"The Monster bit me."
[][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][]
******************************************************
**** The Almost Middle Opinion ***
******************************************************
In the change of any organization there is conflict.
We had plenty. Our friendships were tested in may ways as
the old made way for the new. I hope that the change you will
see take place will be a pleasant one. I would love to hear
your comments on the frag design and on the quality of this zine.
We make this for you so please e-mail us. In short we would
enjoy your input.
On a good note, we are back on schedule and have more
than enough articles to fill the next frag and that is how we
are planning to stay, one week ahead of time. Be prepared because
every tuesday night a new fragment of this zine will be out.
Enjoy and have a happy Halloween.
rApIeR
tHe dAtA sToRe
********************************************************************************
Right After the Middle Word
by Jeremy Bek aka rApIeR
Wheww! We finnaly got this frag out. With late assignments and
multiple systems errors we were not quit sure this issue was going out.
Well, here it is. Sorry that it is a little late. We also had another
technical problem. So some of you that wanted to subscribe or
unsubscribe were over looked by the program. This will be corrected by
the next issue. Thank you for your patience.
A funny thing happened to me on my way to the computer lab
today. I decided to stop off at the local soda shop and pick up some
refreshment. As I sat down to drink my freshly cooled rootbeer I
watched as a little pig came in and ordered a beer. My eyes watched as the
bartender served him, while my mind tried to figure out if there was a
no pets sign outside or not. After a minute the pig was done and asked
the bartender for the directions to the nearest bathroom. After the pig
explained his bad need to use the lavatory due to pigs haveing small
blatters, the bartender happly pointed to the nearest restroom. The pig
left and the bartender looked at the costumers and announced that ,"The
bloody pig was going to have an accident on my floor." We all laughed
at the thought of the bartender mopping up the pigs mess. I went for a
second rootbeer. By the way, did I tell you I was really thirsty? All
the sudden a second pig came in and ordered a beer. The same thing
happened with a third and forth pig. The bartender look confused as he
wondered what kind of shape his bathroom was in after being used by four
pigs. Finaly a fith pig came in and ordered a keg. The bartender
happily hoisted it on the table as the pig began to drink the entire keg
from the spout. I watched in amazement that pigs had such alcohol
tolerance. In the end he stood on three legs and tried to walk out of
the bar. Realizing that this did not work he tried it with two and
found it much easier to work with. As he dizzly walked out of the bar
the bartender asked with a confused look on his face,"Are you not going
to use the bathroom like all the other pigs?" The pig turned arround
with a lit cigar in his mouth and said,"No, don't you remember? I am
the piggy that goes we-we-we all the way home."
Hope you caught the joke *EvilGrin*
rApIeR
********************************************************************************
*^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^*
/ | | | | | | | | \
/ ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ \
/ Thaumaturgy \
/ by Jason Manczur \
/ Part1 \
*---------------------------*
This report is for everyone, whether you believe in magic or
not. This report should clear your mind of some of the negative rumors
about thaumaturgy.
Thaumaturgy is magick. 'Nuff said. Magick, currently spelled
magic, is not the evil creation of Satan, as some would have you
believe. It also really does exist. Magic has been around since long
before the birth of Satan and Satanism. Magic is simply a different way
of looking at the world.
For those of you who believe that magic is evil, let us look at
why it is viewed as evil. Like religion, politics, math and science,
magic is not commonly understood. We often choose to see magic as
evil, while we see the other things as merely difficult, but still good.
Because of the nature of magic, it has a power to it, and we know that
power has a tendency to corrupt. Thus, we see people using magic as corrupt;
therefore, they must be using magical power for destructive purposes.
We simply choose to ignore or not even see the beneficial ways that magic
can be, and is, used.
Most people associate magic and witchcraft. Witchcraft is commonly
viewed as worship of demons and devils and Satan. Witchcraft is the study
of an organized religion, Wicca. Magic, on the other hand, is the
study of the forces that make up our world and how they can be used.
Magic is also known as the study of the Thaumaturgical Sciences, and as
a science, it is split into subsciences, each dealing with a separate
way in which magic works.
Magic can be, and is, useful in many modern ways. One way in
which magic is useful is in the aspect of healing. Healing magic is a
powerful method of curing what ails you. Think of it this way, you
spend hundreds of dollars a year on medical bills. Now imagine spending
just pennies on the dollar going to a spellcaster to cure you of the
same ailment, using a different method.
Another way in which magic is useful in modern times is in the
creation of other substances. For example, a spellcaster may conceivably
be able to separate molecules and atoms and combine them magically to create
completely new atoms and molecules.
This is all for my report this week. Next week I will go into
some of the separate sciences of magic. Remember, nothing, in itself,
is evil. It is those who use it for evil purposes who make things
appear as evil.
********************************************************************************
*---------------*
| "Women" |
| by |
| Jami Jo Tobey |
*---------------*
I am alive
searching _____
seeking / . . \
yearning for the unknown /| ^ |\
the untouched. //\ `-' /\\
Waiting for the sun ////|---|\\\\
listening for the moon ////-' `-\\\\
dancing with the earth /// / \ \\\
watching the clouds laugh // /\ /\ \\
kissing the melting rainbows / | | | | \
running down the mountains | | |-----| | |
swimming upstream | |/-------\| |
and being still. | / / \ \ |
You never see me |/ / \ \|
but you touch me / / / \ \ \
when you breathe / / / \ \ \
and cry. / / / \ \ \
You hold my hand unaware. / / / \ \ \
We are of the same seed `~~`~~`~~~~~~~~`~~`~~`
yet completely different. | | | |
I am the rain (^^^) (^^^)
and you soak me up with your warmth. """"" """""
I am the snow that makes you smile
and the fire that keeps you warm.
I will live forever within you
and of you.
You will never know me
but you will forever love me.
I am you best friend
perhaps your worst enemy?
********************************************************************************
|\_____|""""""""""""""""""""|
|| | The Ones We Love +-----\_______________o
||_____|By Russell Hutchison+-----/ o
|/ |____________________| o
o
The cold, bitter wind crawled across Ed's chest as it easily
worked it's way past his up-turned trench coat collar. He lowered his
chin in an effort to break the winds flow and cover the gap at the throat
of his coat. The breeze going down his chest stopped. But there were
enough gaps between buttons for the wind to leach away all his coveted
heat, despite his vigilant collar-watching.
Ed wanted to leave this alley as soon as possible. He felt that
all the wind in the city was being channeled through this one concrete
canyon. Shivers wracked his body for a second or two but he knew that
they were more from his withdrawal symptoms than the cold. He needed to
get some heroin, soon. But first he needed the cash. He could think of
many places where he could be warmer while he waited for a mark, but
this alley held a perfect hiding place to jump out of and was between a
favored slumming place of rich snobby kids and the parking lot. No
street lights shed their ambient protection from the dark in this alley,
and Ed took measures to destroy any such devices that were placed in
the area to safe-guard the men and women who made the trek through his
best picking grounds. However, he wasn't foolish, he never came here
more than once every two months. No good hunter ever over-hunts his
prey.
The thick clouds blocked out the moon and made the alley a black
scar between two tall buildings. The white condensation of his breath
would be impossible to see even if the wind wasn't there to tear it from
his chilled lips. The feeling in his feet had been fading and his
fingers were getting numb, especially those of his left hand, those which
grasped the frigid metal of his heavy knife.
Then the noise of footsteps approaching were carried to him on
the wind. Ed flattened himself against one of the shadowed walls in his
hiding place and drew out his blade. A button from his coat pressed
coldly against his cheek. He shifted his grip so that he could use the
pommel of the knife like a hammer to stun or knockout his target long
enough to take what he needed.
But as the footsteps got closer Ed heard multiple voices blended
together by the wind. He leaned casually against the wall and remained
as quiet as possible. A group of two men and one women walked past, but
it was hard to tell gender in the darkness of the alley. Their foot steps
were irratic and their voices slurred from drinking. Ed watched them
stumble by, only two steps away, black shadows drifting by in a bobbing
fashion.
Four more groups stumbled past, the first groups leaving
after last call. But none were small enough for Ed to strike out against.
He nervously tapped the flat of the blade with his forefinger as the wind
began whittling away at his resolve to stay in this frozen spot waiting
for someone alone.
More footsteps approached the alley. Ed again flattened against
the wall of his hiding place, this time scooting right to the edge of
the tiny nook. No one else had seen him in his spot, and he felt
confident that he was still hidden. He was worried about his grip on
his knife, though. His hands were so numb that he could hardly hold his
blade. The brief scent of perfume and alcohol tore past in traces on the
wind. Ed watched as a lone figure entered the mouth of the black path.
The shadow-ghost came even with his hole and Ed saw that she was alone.
She passed by and Ed stepped out to strike, his shaky foot settling in to
a frozen puddle. The ice cracked loudly.
Ed jumped foward and swung his hand in a downward arch at the
shadowy shape, but the figure had reacted to the sound faster then he
expected. He hit nothing. The shape had stepped forward and turned
around. A female voice screamed out, "Get away!" and a warm spray
burned a horizontal path across Ed's neck. The line across his
neck burned like fire. He then swung a back hand strike, with all his
strength at the origin of the sound with the pommel leading
the way. He felt his swing strike home under the chin of the woman,
his knife flew out of his grip, disappearing in the darkness. She fell
to the ground making sick choking noises. Ed grabbed her purse and ran.
Later, while he was riding high on a drug wave, he recieved a
phone call from his mother. His cousin and been killed, her throat
crushed, but the police had a lead on the killer. Ed was in another
room when the call came so the answering machine took the message.
He checked the machine a couple of hours later, only minutes before
the police arrived to arrest him.
********************************************************************************
____________________________
| __________________________ |
| | NETWORKING SCHOOL DAY | |
| | BY | |
| | TED SANDERS | |
| | | |
| | | |
| |$ Part I | |
| ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ |
""""""""""""""""""""""""""""
During the past few weeks I've been working on an article that
was originally suggested by George Sibley (Faculty advisor for the ICS)
that would describe exactly how and if the NET could be a school. When I say
school, I don't exactly mean a conventional school - one having a teacher
sit over you day after day informing you that you're behind in your
homework, your attention skills suck, and if you don't pass next week's
test you'll be kicked out of your institution and thrown to the dogs.
A school can be many things, but for my purposes I'll include
the most general definition I can find. A tool that helps you search for
knowledge. To be a little more specific, how does your computer help you
search for knowledge throughout the vast cosmos of cyberspace? I asked
several people over the net and I got many answers.
I found that if you enter the world of Rhostyshl as an invader
from the quote RW (Real World) many people will tell you that the NET is
an incredible world of social interaction. You can be whoever you want
to be, wherever you want to be and still have "tiny sex" with a
beautiful princess. When I entered the world of Rhostshyl I explored
several plains of existence. My character's title was "reporter" and
here is what I looked like.
"A short and stocky man holding a pad and pencil. Roving around
the mysterious world of the NET in search of information wherever he
can find it!"
The world of MUD games is one that I find takes integrity and believability
away from the NET.
While I was on Rhostshyl I also talked to several people in an
almost "RW" tense. I asked users why they thought the NET was a
school, or how the NET helped them learn more than they already knew.
Several said that it helped them experience a separate social life that
they could create and control. In my opinion this was a very valid
argument. The user enters a world in which no racial barriers are held,
and yet cliques are still formed. A world where the only bias is a person's
actions. If the contemporary classroom was like this then we wouldn't
have to worry about Education in Multicultural Societies, all students
would just be electronic images! Others said that it versed them in several
different types of computer languages that are necessary to operate on the MUD.
I talked to one individual from the University of Illinois who
sounded like he was doing absolutely incredible things with his life. He
had his B.A. in Chemical Engineering and is working on his Ph.D. I
personally admired this man and his accomplishments, so I asked him to
submit material for the ICS. He informed me that he had "prior commitments".
I found out later that he was talking about prior commitments to his
"Guild."
At this point I was discouraged. How could the NET be a good
source of "knowledge" if it made people make a priorities of playing games
as opposed to learning more about our current world and the people
within it. Then a ray of hope shone throughout the tunnel of darkness,
Listserves!
Listserves, for those of you who don't know, are a type of
mailing service that sends basic information on specific topics to anyone
in the NET who wants it. The really neat thing about listserves or
LSV's is that when someone writes to a general audience you can get
great publicity! In fact just today I heard about a worldwide contest
being held by a group of seventh graders who are trying to show the
world that youth do have the power to influence our environment and our
future. WOW! talk about a net idea! (bad pun!) From this same listserve,
I recieved a direct transcript of Clinton's "Goals 2000" speech, which covered
the nation's course for improving education. To get this I would have had to
search all over the U.S., but the listserve gave it to me when I didn't even
know I wanted it!
Listserves are not just limited to education. They also include
the areas of Laser Medicine, Money, Ecology, Horror, Physics, British
and Irish History, and even Alternative Learning Approaches.
The most amazing thing I discovered from was the fact that almost
any piece of information can be picked up from the listserve ..... eventually!
If you wait long enough on a couple of different listserves, you will find
that you can get information within days or sometimes weeks. In my next
installment I will address the question, "How can a NET student find
specific information in a timely manner?"
********************************************************************************
_______________________________________
(*\ \*)
| List Serves |
| Do They Really Serve You? |
| By Jeremy Bek aka rApIeR |
(*\_____________________________________\*)
This is the first of what will be a once an issue column about
listserves. I will analyze each listserve on the basis of useability,
friendliness, enjoyment, and activity. I will also publish the amount
of average daily mail and memory use and tell you where to mail to
to subscribe. We hope this will be useful to our readers, allowing
you to see the different listserves without using up precious memory.
I will be going through various forms of listservs, ranging from the political
to the recreational.
In this issue I will be discussing the Shadowrun listserve.
The Shadowrun listserve is a discussion group on the fantasy role playing
game Shadowrun tm. On the basis of usability this group gets an A+.
This group is a great source for thoughtful discussion and debate of the
rules of the game. The members of the listserve are very knowledgable about
their subject and are generally helpful to anyone who asks for their
help. They also have very inventive minds and come up with some pretty
good ideas. On the basis of friendliness they also get a high score.
As mentioned earlier, they are always willing to help you think out an
idea no matter how ridiculous the idea may seem. If you are a shadowrunner
you will love the humor created by this group. In the seven weeks I
spent analyzing this group I laughed hard enough to knock me off my chair
a half a dozen times or more. Very prolific, they put out several yearly
reports and magazines reporting their inventions, ideas, and major
discussions. One of these is called NAGEE(Neo-Anarchists Guide to Everything
Else), it is approximately .16 megabytes long and is published in several text
formats. To pickup a copy go FTPing to TeeTot.acusd.edu and look under the
subdirectories Pub, Beelzebub, Role-Playing, Shadowrun, NAGEE.
_----------------------------------_
{ What you need to know }
-__________________________________-
There are a couple of things you may want to know in order to
subscribe and enjoy this Listserve. The first is that they use a
plethora of abbreviations. If you ask, they will send you a complete
list of terms and what they mean. The THWAP is another thing you may
be curious about. A THWAP is the sound that a wet carp makes when it
hits bare skin. This is used when another member of the listserve gets
really goofy. You might want to ask for the complete history of the
THWAP. Just for fun. In all this is an extremely useful listserve
and if you are into Shadowrun I would suggest you join.
Daily Memory Use: avg:72 block/day
Mail Messages per day: avg:32 mess/day
********************************************************************************
THE FINAL WORD
by
Ted Sanders
During my normal search of the world of the NET I've found many
great and interesting things. I've found that some people MUD too much,
I've found that some users don't explore enough into the NET, and I've
also found that a few cyberpunks don't even know what the NET is. The
entire purpose of the I.C.S. since it was started last December is to
explore the regions of the "unknown" and make them the regions of the
known.
For those of you who took the time to write back to the staff
and myself, we thank you, but that's not all that we need. The I.C.S. is
not only part of the staff writing, but it's a part of the NET. If you
are recieving the electrozine, we would like you to start thinking very
seriously about submitting to the I.C.S. At one point in the I.C.S.'s
history, submissions came pouring over the net (approximately 10 an
hour), but this year people are beginning to forget about it's
existance. We LOVE to recieve your articles, it enlightens our world and
it will probably enlighten yours.
This Halloween I had a young friend of mine on campus (Western
State College, Gunnison Colorado) turn in a very interesting story to
the I.C.S. It was a really great horror story about a modern day
headless horseman. I told him that I would take a look at it and see
what we could do. The story that I edited was quite interesting and it
showed myself and the staff about the incredible imagination of ten
year olds! Hopefully this story will be out in issue no. 7 Fragment
no.1.
These past few weeks the I.C.S. has been exploring new territory
that no electrozine has journeyed into before. Our new "Frag" technique
has thus far proven to be a success. If you feel that the new technique
is a success, or a failure, we would like to hear from you. As I've been
told by our new Technical Director, thus far many of you have responded
saying that the fragment technique has been quite helpful.
In conclusion, all you cyberpunks, hackers, users, and solar
cowboys, keep dreaming of electric sheep and I'll see you in Virtual
Reality!
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
ICS would like to hear from you. We accept flames, comments,
submissions, editorials, corrections, and just about anything else you
wish to send us. For your safety use these guidelines when sending us
anything. We will use things sent to us when we think the would be
appropriate for the goal of the issue coming out. So, if you send us
something that you DO NOT want us to use in the electrozine, then put
the words NOT FOR PUBLICATION in the subject of the mail you send us.
You can protect your material by sending a copy to yourself
through the mail and leaving the envelope unopened.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
BACK ISSUES: Back Issues of ICS can be FTPed from ETEXT.ARCHIVE.UMICH.EDU
They are in the directory /pub/Politics/ICS.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
ICSICSICSICSICSICSICS/\ICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICS
CSICSICSICSICSICSICS/ \CSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICS
ICSICSICSICSICSICSI/ \ICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSI
CSICSICSICSICSICSI/ \CSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSI
ICSICSICSICSICSIC/ I C S \ICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSIC
CSICSICSICSICSIC/ \CSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSIC
ICSICSICSICSICS/ Electro- \ICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICS
CSICSICSICSICS/ Zine \CSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICS
\ /
\ /
\ /
\ / An Electronic Magazine from
\ / Western State College
\ / Gunnison, Colorado.
\ / ORG_ZINE@WSC.COLORADO.EDU
\/ '*'
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
