Sunlight Through The Shadows Volume II, Issue 9 Sept. 1st, 1994 Welcome........................................Joe DeRouen Editorial: Why This Is Late . . . Again........Joe DeRouen Staff of STTS............................................. Special Survey for STTS Readers - Now offering prizes!.... Monthly Prize Giveaway Details....and Winners!............ SysOps - Read This to Win Prizes!......................... >> --------------- Monthly Columns ---------------------<< STTS Mailbag.............................................. Quick Tips and Fixes...........................Joe DeRouen The Question & Answers Session.................Joe DeRouen SportsView.................................Thomas Van Hook My View: Baseball..........................Thomas Van Hook ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ Advertisement-Channel 1 BBS >> --------------- Feature Articles --------------------<< Interview: Elizabeth Orne of Mars BBS.......L. Shawn Aiken STTS Survey Results............................Joe DeRouen ÿ Advertisement-Exec-PC BBS >> ------------------- Reviews -------------------------<< (Software) Blue Wave Offline Mail Reader..Louis Turbeville (Software) TIME: Man of the Year CD-ROM...Louis Turbeville (Movie) It Could Happen To You...............Bruce Diamond (Movie) Corinna, Corinna.....................Bruce Diamond (Movie) The Little Rascals...................Bruce Diamond (Movie) Airheads.............................Bruce Diamond (Music) Fumbling Towards Ecstasy/McLachlan...Andee SoRelle (Music) Blackest Sabbath/Black Sabbath.....Thomas Van Hook (Music) Parallel Dreams/Lorenna McKennitt..Thomas Van Hook (Book) Chrome Circle/Lackey & Dixon.......Thomas Van Hook ÿ Advertisement-T&J Software >> ------------------- Fiction -------------------------<< The Powers That Be..........................L. Shawn Aiken Madge's Medal...............................Franchot Lewis Lyric.............................................Ed Davis ÿ Advertisement-Chrysalis BBS >> ------------------- Poetry --------------------------<< Natalie, Those Children Are Calling........Daniel Sendecki Laura...............................................Tamara Turn Away......................................J. Guenther Eternity......................................Sean Donahue ÿ Advertisement-Texas Talk BBS >> ------------------- Humour --------------------------<< Top Ten List...................................Joe DeRouen "A Bum Walked Up To Me and Said..." .........Bruce Diamond >> --------------- Advertisements ----------------------<< Channel 1 BBS Exec-PC BBS T&J Software Chrysalis BBS Texas Talk >> ----------------- Information -----------------------<< How to get STTS Magazine.................................. ** SPECIAL OFFER!! **..................................... Submission Information & Pay Rates........................ Advertiser Information (Businesses & Personal)............ Contact Points............................................ Distribution Sites........................................ Distribution Via Networks................................. End Notes......................................Joe DeRouen ²²²²²²²²²²²²²²²²²²²²²²²²²²²²²²²²²²²²²²²²²²²²²²²²²²²²²²²²²²²²²²²² STTS Magazine ² ÚÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄ¿ ² Vol. II, No. 9 ² ³ ³ ² Sept. 1st, 1994 ² ³ Everyone's reading . . . ß ß ³ ² ² ³ Ûø..øÛ ³ ² ² ³ Sunlight Through The Shadows(tm) ÛÀÄÄÙÛ ³ ² ² ³ ÛÜ ÛÛÛ ³ ² ² ³ ÜÜ ÛÛÛÛÜÜÛÛÛÛÛ ³ ² ² ³ Üܲ²ÜÜ ÛÛÛÜÜÛÛÛÛÛÛ ³ ² Fiction ² ³ ²²²²°° ÛÛÛ ÛÛÛÛÛ ³ ² Poetry ² ³ ²²²²°° ßßßßÛ ÛÛÛÛÛ ³ ² Reviews ² ³ ²²²²ßß °²°°°°°°²° ÜÛ ÜÜ ÜÜÜ ³ ² ² ³ ßßßßß ³ ² Humour ² ³ Û ÛÛ ßßßßßßß Û ³ ² BBS News ² ³ Û Ü ÜÜ ßßß Û ³ ² Editorials ² ³ Ü ³ ² ² ³ Joe DeRouen, Publisher ßßÜÜßß ÛÛ ³ ² . . . & more! ² ³ L. Shawn Aiken, Asst. Ed. ÛßßÜÜ ÜÜ Ü ³ ² ² ÀÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÙ ² ²²²²²²²²²²²²²²²²²²²²²²²²²²²²²²²²²²²²²²²²²²²²²²²²²²²²²²²²²²²²²²²² With Heather DeRouen, Bruce Diamond, and Tamara Welcome Copyright (c) 1994, Joe DeRouen All rights reserved Welcome to Sunlight Through The Shadows magazine! In this issue, as well as in the future, STTS will strive to bring you the best in fiction, poetry, reviews, article, and other assorted reading material. STTS Magazine has no general "theme" aside from good writing, innovative concepts, and the unique execution of those concepts. STTS wouldn't have been possible without the aid, support, and guidance of three women: Inez Harrison, publisher of Poetry In Motion newsletter. Her's was the first electronic magazine I ever laid eyes upon, and also the first such magazine to publish my work. She's given me advice, and, more importantly, inspiration. Lucia Chambers, publisher of Smoke & Mirrors Elec. Magazine and head of Pen & Brush Network. She gave me advice on running a magazine, encouragement, and hints as to the kind of people to look for in writers. Heather DeRouen, my wife. Listed last here, but always first in my heart. She's proofread manuscripts, inspired me, listened to me, and, most importantly, loved me. Never could I find a better woman to live life by my side, nor a better friend. Now that that's said and done... Again, welcome to Sunlight Through The Shadows Magazine! I hope you enjoy it. Joe DeRouen Editorial: Why This Is Late . . . Again Copyright (c) 1994, Joe DeRouen All rights reserved I have a good reason this time. I promise. As of September first, 1994, I became a published (read: paid!) writer. Furthermore, the piece in question was the first installment in a new column. But I digress. In several areas of the USA, there are free monthly publications called COMPUTER CURRENTS. Dallas has one, and that's the magazine I'm writing for. Hopefully, if all you kind folks that are lucky enough to have a local version of COMPUTER CURRENTS write in and ask for it, I'll go national before too long. The monthly column, ASK THE TECH: QUICK TIPS AND FIXES, is pretty self-explanatory. People write in with questions or problems they're having or have had with computers, BBS's, or software, and I try to solve them. The article will also appear here each month, in the monthly columns section. Read it and let me know what you think! I'm also doing a computer/BBS-orientated "Top-Ten List" for COMPUTER CURRENTS. Regular readers will know that such lists have been appearing in these electronic pages all along. The ones in CC will differ, however, in the fact that they'll *always* be computer-related. With STTS, I'm able to do pretty much whatever strikes my fancy. Anyway, that's why this issue is late. I've been busy working on the column and the top ten list, as well as other possible paid submissions. I shan't forgo STTS, however. With the recent addition of Shawn Aiken as Assistant Editor (notice, Shawn - Your title gets Caps! ) things should start going a bit more smoothly. The next issue might even be out on time. Or closer, at least. At any rate, that's my explanation. Thanks for sticking with STTS and making it one of the most popular e-mags out there! Joe DeRouen, Sept. 5th 1994 The Staff and Contributing Writers of Sunlight Through The Shadows ------------------------------------------------------------------ The Staff --------- Joe DeRouen............................Publisher and Editor L. Shawn Aiken.........................Assistant Editor Heather DeRouen........................Book Reviews Bruce Diamond..........................Movie Reviews Tamara.................................House Poet Joe DeRouen publishes, edits, and writes for STTS magazine. He's had poetry and fiction published in several on-line magazines and a few paper publications as well. He's written exactly 1.5 novels, none of which, alas, have seen the light of publication. He attends college part-time in search of that always-elusive english degree. In his spare time, he enjoys reading, running his BBS, collecting music, playing with his five cats, singing opera, hunting pseudopods, and most importantly spending time with his beautiful wife Heather. L. Shawn Aiken dropped out of college when he realized that they couldn't teach him the two things he wanted to do; live successfully, and write. He had to find out these things all by himself on the road. Thus he became a road scholar. After spending his life hopping country to country, state to state, he now feels confident in his abilities and is working on his literary career. His main endevour is to become successful in the speculative fiction area, but he enjoys writing all forms of literary art. Heather DeRouen writes software for the healthcare industry, CoSysOps Sunlight Through The Shadows BBS, enjoys playing with her five cats, cross-stitching, and reading. Most of all, she enjoys spending time with her dapper, charming, witty, and handsome (not to mention modest) husband Joe. Heather's help towards editing and proofreading this magazine has been immeasurable. Bruce Diamond, part-time pseudopod and ruler of a small island chain off the coast of Chil‚, spends his time imitating desk lamps when he isn't watching and critiquing movies for LIGHTS OUT, his BBS movie review publication (now syndicated to over 20 boards). Recently, Bruce became the monthly movie critic for VALLEY REVIEW MAGAZINE, published out of Pennsylvania. LIGHTS OUT, now two years old, is available through the Rime or P&B Networks by dropping a note to Joe DeRouen, courtesy of Sunlight Through The Shadows BBS. The magazine will soon be available through Fido file request and Internet FTP. In the Dallas area, Bruce's distributor is Jay Gaines' BBS AMERICA (214-994-0093). Bruce is a freelance writer and video producer in the Dallas/Fort Worth area. There is very little known about Tamara, and she prefers to let it remain that way. She's a woman of mystery and prefers to remain hidden in the shadows of the BBS world. (Enigmatic, don't you think?) Contributing Writers -------------------- Ed Davis...............................Fiction Sean A. Donahue........................Poetry J. Guenther............................Poetry Daniel Sendecki........................Fiction, Poetry Andee SoRelle..........................Music Review Louis Turbeville.......................Software Reviews Thomas Van Hook........................My View, Music Review Ed Davis has been scribbling seriously or has at least enjoyed the electronic equivalent, since 1981. Prior to that, his literary efforts were confined to whatever scrap paper he could find on a work bench at break or lunch time, since he was spending his working hours making chips and money in the guise of a Journeyman Machinist. Married to the same lady for 26 years and with two children still hovering uncomfortably close to the nest, Ed continues to write down his thoughts electronically. Check out the file NEWBOOK.ZIP, available from STTS BBS, for more of his work. Sean A. Donahue does not have any publishing ties whatsoever. He has written over 4,192 poems. Only 38 have seen to survive the Mighty Morphin Power Rangers. The time in which normal people say is spare, he tries to use to study for school at Texas Tech University. This is Sean's first published poem and he hopes that it is not his last. He has written exactly 428 novels all starting with "It was a dark and stormy night." None ofthem have gotten past the second paragraph. In whatever time he has left, he enjoys reading, riting, and rithmatic. He has an creative writing minor, a history minor, and a Honorary Doctorate in B.S. from Bowling Green State University. He dedicates his writing to those who are without love and hope. And that's no B.S. Grant Guenther, sometimes known as J. Guenther, confesses to be from a long-lost Martian colony, but in-depth investigations reveals that he was born and raised in a small but well-to-do community called Hartland in Wisconsin. A senior, he has written several collections of poems, and won many awards from his high school literary magazine, including 1st place for poetry and short-short fiction. He is the editor-in-chief of the school newspaper and writes as a humor columnist (or at least he thinks so). Daniel Sendecki is a young, emerging, Canadian writer who lives in Burlington, Ontario. Currently, Daniel is pursuing his writing interests at home but intends to study literature at McGill University, in Montreal, Quebec. Andee SoRelle is a visual artist working in both paint and clay. She lives in the Dallas, Texas area and enjoys BBSing, (of course!) music, film, and kvetching about her day job. Louis Turbeville currently works as a computer analyst for the Air Force. He's originally from Hawaii (about an 1/8 Hawaiian ) and has a BBA in Management Information Systems from the University of Hawaii. Louis is married and has a two year old son who keeps him busy, especially when he wants to sit at the computer and write. His interest in writing was nurtured by his wife, a journalism and english major who's yet to be published and holds this very much against Louis. He's had a couple of reviews published on WindowsOnLine Review Magazine and hopes to broaden his base of published media in the near future. Author Unknown (oddly enough, his real name) has had several stories, poems, novels, plays, and pieces of artwork published throughout the world dating back to the dawn of man. So far, he hasn't received one red cent in royalties. Thomas Van Hook resides in Dallas, where he works as a contract employee for the Federal Reserve Automation Services. Having served eight years in the USAF, he is happy to finally be free and able to pursue the dreams of his heart. At the age of 29, he is looking forward to many new adventures and experiences within the realms of the Elven kind. He enjoys reading, writing, sports of all kinds, his son Corey and the attentions of any Elven women that seem interested (not necessarily in that order). Recently divorced, he is trying to restore order and balance to his life without losing what little is left of his sanity. STTS Survey Copyright (c) 1994, Joe DeRouen All rights reserved Please fill out the following survey. This article is duplicated in the ZIP archive as SURVEY.TXT. If you're reading this on-line and haven't access to that file, please do a screen capture of this article and fill it out that way. If all else fails, just write your answers down (on paper or in an ASCII file) and include the question's number beside your answer. Everyone who answers the survey will have their name placed in a hat and, at the start of the following month, we'll draw a name to receive a special prize. Check out the Monthly Prize Giveaway article (from the main menu) for more details. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - 1. Name: _____________________________________________________________ 2. Mailing address: __________________________________________________ __________________________________________________ __________________________________________________ __________________________________________________ 3. Date of birth: (Mm/Dd/YYyy) _______________________________________ 4. Sex: ______________________________________________________________ 5. Where did you read/download this copy of STTS Magazine? (Include BBS and BBS number, please) ___________________________________________________________________ ___________________________________________________________________ ___________________________________________________________________ 6. Do you prefer to read STTS while on-line or download it to read at your own convenience? ( ) On-Line ( ) Download 7. Are you a SysOp? ( ) Yes ( ) No (if "No", skip to 10) 8. If so, what is your BBS name, number, baud rate? ___________________________________________________________________ ___________________________________________________________________ ___________________________________________________________________ 9. Do you currently carry STTS Mag? ( ) Yes ( ) No ( ) I don't carry it, but I want to I carry STTS: ( ) On-Line, ( ) For Download, ( ) or Both 10. What do you enjoy the MOST about STTS Mag? ___________________________________________________________________ ___________________________________________________________________ ___________________________________________________________________ 11. What do you enjoy LEAST about STTS Mag? ___________________________________________________________________ ___________________________________________________________________ ___________________________________________________________________ 12. Please rate the following parts of STTS on a scale of 1-10, 10 being excellent and 1 being awful. (if no opinion, X) Fiction ___ Poetry ___ Movie reviews ___ Book reviews ___ CD Reviews ___ Feature Articles ___ Software reviews --- Humour --- Top Ten List --- Question&Answers ___ Editorial ___ ANSI Coverart ___ MonsterBBSReview --- My View --- STTS BBS News --- RIP Coverart ___ Misc. Info --- 13. What would you like to see (or see more of) in future issues of STTS Mag? ___________________________________________________________________ ___________________________________________________________________ ___________________________________________________________________ ___________________________________________________________________ - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Return the survey to me via any of the following options: A) Pen & Brush Net - A PRIVATE, ROUTED message to JOE DEROUEN at site ->5320, in any conference. B) RIME Net - A PRIVATE, ROUTED message to JOE DEROUEN at site ->5320, in either the COMMON or SUNLIGHT THROUGH THE SHADOWS MAGAZINE conference. C) WME Net - A PRIVATE message to JOE DEROUEN in the NET CHAT conference. D) Internet - Send a message containing your complete survey to Joe.DeRouen@Chrysalis.org E) My BBS - (214) 629-8793 24 hrs. a day 1200-14,000 baud. Upload the file SURVEY.TXT (change the name first! Change it to something like the first eight digits of your last name (or less, if your name doesn't have eight digits) and the ext of .SUR) Immediate access is gained to my system via filling out the new user questionnaire. F) U.S. Postal Service - Send the survey either printed out or on a disk to: Joe DeRouen 3910 Farmville Dr. # 144 Addison, Tx. 75244 Sunlight Through The Shadows Monthly Prize Giveaway Each month, STTS magazine will be giving away a prize. The prizes will range from registered versions of popular shareware packages to Compact Discs, to a year subscription (via a disk mailed to you) to STTS On-Line! In other words, you never know what we'll be giving away next! If the prize is shareware/software, unless otherwise noted, the versions available will be IBM compatible only. If another version is available, we'll make a note of that and ask you to let us know what system you have. To enter, please answer the survey located elsewhere in this issue. If you're reading it offline, edit the file SURVEY.TXT with an ASCII word processor, fill it out, and send it in one of the many ways listed. If you're reading it online, do a screen capture of the STTS Magazine Survey (available from the main menu), fill it out, and send it in. To be eligible for the contest every month, you just have to fill out the survey once. Everyone who answer's name will go into a hat and a winner will be drawn out each and every month. PRIZE WINNER THIS MONTH Dave Crumb of Chicago, Illinois sent in the winning survey via the Internet, and wins Cineplay's FREE DC vga/soundblaster claymation tour de force. Congratulations, Dave! PRIZE FOR SEPTEMBER Sept.'s prize (to be sent out sometime shortly after Oct. 1st) is three free months of full access on the mega-BBS Channel 1, located in Cambridge, Mass. CHANNEL 1 MEMBERSHIP Enjoy three FREE months of complete and full access to Channel 1, one of the nation's largest systems. Download all the files your hard drive can contain, play games, and ensconce yourself in net mail! Channel 1 can be perused via (617) 354-3230. Tell 'em STTS Magazine sent you! SysOp Announcement Copyright (c) 1994, Joe DeRouen All rights reserved Tom Wildoner of T&J Software has been kind enough to donate twelve twenty dollar ($20.00) credits to STTS, good for purchase towards one of Tom's many great BBS doors! The first SysOp each month to call my BBS and send me a (C)omment saying that s/he agrees to be a dist. site for STTS Magazine *and* post the STTS 1-page logon screen for at least twelve months wins the prize. (Being a dist. site costs a SysOp nothing except possibly calling to download the file each month) If your BBS is already a dist. site, call and leave me a comment giving me a general update as to how many people downloaded the latest issue, how many read it online, etc. If you do this, and agree to run the afore-mentioned logon screen, *and* you're the first SysOp to call, you win the prize! The $20.00 credit is good on all T&J Doors except for adult doors. You'll be notified if you won or not (and given a code that you'll have t give to Tom to claim your credit) via e-mail only, so be sure to call back to check your messages! STTS BBS's number is (214) 620-8793. It supports modem speeds of up to 14,400 baud and is open 24 hours a day. Be sure to download a few files while you're there! :) Thanks, Joe DeRouen * The STTS logon screen mentioned above is included in this archive. Filename: STTSSCRN.ZIP. * Look at the T&J Software Ad elsewhere in this issue for a listing of their great doors! STTS Mailbag Copyright (c) 1994, Joe DeRouen All rights reserved ======================================================================== Number : 1344 of 1370 Date: 07/10/94 07:33 Confer : Poetry & Prose From : Allyssa Lathan To : Joe Derouen Subject : July ------------------------------------------------------------------------ I'm happy, I'm happy, I'm happy... :) After months of seeing your posts about each issue coming out, the BBS I'm on now has STTS. I've been reading back issues a lot, but I think I can catch up pretty quickly... 'Lyssa, now a devoted STTS-reader Some really good poetry and fiction in STTS, but you'd know that, wouldn't you. (: --- þ TriNet: * Viking's Domain * Brownsville, MD * (301)432-5922 * 14.4 USR ======================================================================== ======================================================================== Msg#: 8783 *Internet* 07-11-94 19:47:12 From: ARTHUR.ECKARD@THE-SPA.COM To: JOE DEROUEN (Rcvd) Subj: AUTHOR ADDRESS To: joe.derouen@chrysalis.org Hi Joe, Just DLd SUN9407.ZIP and found myself stunned. I really don't know what to say - I've only tried to write this note a dozen times. First place in Fiction. Thank you very much. I'm honored. This is the first piece of work I've ever been paid for. I'm really overwhelmed and I don't know what else to say. Thank you very much. You have no idea what this means to me. I hope you're not too big for me the next time I have something to submit. A.M.Eckard | arthur.eckard@the-spa.com * RM 1.3 00253 * In the land of the trogdolytes the erudite man is food. ======================================================================== ======================================================================== Quick Tips and Fixes Copyright (c) 1994, Joe DeRouen All rights reserved [Originally published in COMPUTER CURRENTS magazine] QUICK TIPS AND FIXES by Joe DeRouen Q: I'd love to take a ride on the Information Superhighway, but I'm not even sure how to hitchhike! Where do I get started? A: There's been so much coverage of the Internet in the last year that it would seem that it's the easiest thing in the world to get involved in. It's not. The Internet's backbone is the UNIX system, which features commands more arcane than DOS could ever be. Until a universal graphic user interface is developed for access into the Internet, it's going to remain a great and challenging learning experience. The challenge can be met, however. If you're currently on local bulletin board systems, log onto your favorite one. Go into the file area and do a text search for the word "Internet". Chances are, they'll have at least one Internet help file. Files in particular to keep an eye out for are THE BEGINNER'S GUIDE TO THE INTERNET (an excellent guide to getting started) or ZEN AND THE ART OF THE INTERNET. They're free programs and well worth the download time. If you don't have access to a modem, check out your local bookstore or library. You'll have several dozen different books to choose from in helping you access the Internet. A couple of good ones are THE INTERNET FOR DUMMIES (John Levine and Carol Baroudi, IDG Books) and TEACH YOURSELF THE INTERNET - AROUND THE WORLD IN 21 DAYS. (Neil Randall, Sams Publishing) Either book can be had for around twenty dollars. With a little patience and a bit of intestinal fortitude, you'll be cruising the Net's highways and byways in no time! Q: Help! I just erased my AUTOEXEC.BAT and CONFIG.SYS, and now I can't get anything to come up. What should I do? A: When your computer can't find those two files, it boots up, asks you for the date and time, and drops you into C:\. What next? Fear not, for all is not lost. Actually, you've lost very little. Those two files just tell your computer how to act. Type PATH=C:\DOS. (If your DOS directory isn't on C, substitute the correct drive instead) Then type UNDELETE. As DOS's UNDELETE program scrolls through the erased files, look for ?UTOEXEC.BAT and ?ONFIG.SYS. It'll ask you to supply the first character of each filename. Do so, and it's like it never happened. If you're using an older version of DOS that doesn't support UNDELETE (and you don't have NORTON UTILITIES, PC TOOLS, or another program that offers an UNERASE option) your files are pretty much lost forever. There's nothing much left to do now except rebuild the files from memory. To safeguard against this happening in the future, (even if you DO have UNDELETE - The program isn't failsafe!) always keep a current copy of your AUTOEXEC.BAT and CONFIG.SYS on a write-protected floppy, in a safe place. That way, you'll always have a backup of your files and a permanent solution to the delete-happy frenzy that we all occasionally fall prey to. To be even safer, make a paper copy of the two files. Fold them into an envelope and toss them in your desk drawer. You'll probably never need them, but you'll be thankful that they're there if you ever do. Q: My Super VGA monitor is developing a rash! This "rash" consists of blurs and distortions in the screen that seem to change and move around as time passes. What's the problem? A: It could be a variety of different things. The most probable culprit, however, is your phone. If you're like me, you love to talk while you're playing games or entering data. If you have a full-size phone with a large metal base, it most likely contains magnets that aren't very well shielded. Placing a full-size phone closer than about a foot in front of the monitor can cause problems. The magnets in the phone cause the phosphor (which make up the pixels in the screen) to glow differently than the rest of the screen. It's nothing too serious, though. Just move your phone or replace it with a smaller model, preferably a handheld unit. All phones contain magnets, of course, but smaller phones contains smaller magnets that really aren't as harmful to your screen. Newer phones also have better shielding. The damage to your screen isn't permanent and should clear up fairly soon. If it doesn't, you'll have to have your monitor "de-gaussed". (a procedure that involves running a very large magnet over your monitor) De-gaussing is relatively inexpensive and can be done at most any computer repair shop or service. If your phone *doesn't* seem to be the problem, it could be another magnetic source. Check out any large, bulky appliances that happen to be hanging around your monitor. If it's obvious that isn't the source of your frustrations, contact the manufacturer of your monitor immediately. More than likely, you have a defective screen that's probably still covered in your warranty. Are you having a problem with your computer? Write to Joe via Sunlight Through The Shadows BBS at 214/620-8793, through the internet at Joe.DeRouen@Chrysalis.ORG, or CompuServe at 73654,1732. Joe can also be reached at any of the other points listed in Contact Points, elsewhere in this issue. The Question and Answers Session Copyright (c) 1994, Joe DeRouen All rights reserved The Question and Answers Session will be back next month. This feature is on hiatus until then. SportsView Copyright (c) 1994, Thomas Van Hook All Rights Reserved As you read this, Major League Baseball will probably be in or near the third week of the Players' Strike. It's really interesting to note that fan apathy towards either side is at an all-time high. My prediction, however, is that the fans that are disgusted with the actions of both players and owners will come back to the Major League ballparks in droves when the season resumes. Like the fans of past strikes, today's fans are angry over escalating salaries, and like the fans of yester-year, their memories will be short and forgiving when the strike is over. If the fans of today would make a stand over the escalating prices of ballpark seats and escalating player salaries, then maybe the owners and players would realize that they have it better financially than most of their fans do. Football is upon us. Preseason is coming to end as I write this, and the season's beginning is right around the corner. There will be many surprises along the way, but I have my own predictions to give to you. We start with the NFC East: NFC East 1. Dallas 2. Washington 3. New York Giants 4. Philadelphia 5. Arizona Dallas will once again storm to the top of the conference on the arm of Aikman and the legs of Smith. Their defense is somewhat suspect in the linebacking corps, which will sink them in the end. Washington will hold second on the strength of their BIG (!) offensive line. Otherwise their entire team is suspect after this. The New York Giants will rise to third solely on the backs of their defense. The offense is a bit suspect with a starting rookie quarterback. Philadelphia will find it will be very difficult to ask Randall Cunningham to win it all for them. Arizona is on the track with Buddy Ryan, but this won't be their year. NFC Central 1. Detriot 2. Chicago 3. Tampa Bay 4. Minnesota 5. Green Bay Detriot will barely take this conference away from the Monsters of the Midway in Chicago. However, Barry Sanders will show that he is on the last years of his career. Tampa Bay will be somewhat of a surprise, but they still need to let their entire offense loose during the game. Even Warren Moon won't help Minnesota, which can thank Green Bay for the cellar cushion. Green Bay had better pack it in, their offense has trouble even remembering where the ball is. NFC West 1. Atlanta 2. New Orleans 3. Los Angeles Rams 4. San Fransisco Welcome Atlanta Falcons, you have finally arrived! The Falcons will be the most improved team in the NFL this year. Get ready folks, because they will be going to the Big Dance before this decade is out. New Orleans made some good off-season moves and is stronger than ever. It's a shame that they have to play in the same division as Atlanta. The Rams look better than they have for the past few years. The 49ers have finally hit rock bottom. It's hard to win games when your team is saturated with egos. AFC East 1. Buffalo 2. Miami 3. New England 4. Indianapolis 5. New York Jets Buffalo fields a strong team, but they will have trouble taking their division over a much-improved Miami Dolphins team. Look for a full-season battle for the top spot here. New England looks better and better, but they have to play both Buffalo and Miami twice this year. Indianapolis continues to look like one of the three blind mice. The Jets are a plane without an engine. AFC Central 1. Houston 2. Cleveland 3. Pittsburgh 4. Cincinnati Houston finally comes into it's own with Cody Carlson at the helm, but just barely. Cleveland and Pittsburgh will turn this division into the most hotly contested division all year. Cincinnati hasn't got a prayer of making it this year. They are just happy that there is a New York Jets team to look worse than they do. AFC West 1. Los Angeles Raiders 2. Denver 3. Kansas City 4. Seattle 5. San Diego And here is my pick for the Super Bowl Champion: Los Angeles Raiders. The Raiders look like they have finally put it all together. Denver finally got some recievers for Elway, but their defense looks really thin this year. Kansas City is resting it's hopes on has-beens Montana and Allen -- a bad move. Seattle will improve, while San Diego joins their Major League Baseball brethren in the basement. Will Dallas make it to a third straight Super Sunday? Sure. And they will find that two championships will be all they can have. The Raiders are my pick to take it all this year. Next month: A look at what we might have enjoyed during September in the world of Baseball, and a quick peek at the world of Basketball. Ciao! NFC Champion - Dallas Cowboys AFC Champion - Oakland Raiders Super Bowl Winner - Oakland Raiders My View: Baseball Copyright (c) 1994, Thomas Van Hook All rights reserved [Each month, a reader/writer is offered the opportunity to give his or her viewpoint on a particular topic dear to them. If you'd like the chance to air *Your* views in this forum, please contact Joe DeRouen via one of the many ways listed in CONTACT POINTS elsewhere in this issue] As of this writing, Major League Baseball is poised on the edge of it's most exciting "second-half" in quite some time. The realignment that took place during the winter has added to the excitement of the potential division races. Not one single team is running away with their division at this point in the season. In the meantime, Ken Griffey Jr., Frank Thomas and Matt Williams have very good chances of breaking Roger Maris' single-season home-run record. Frank Thomas also has a real chance to become the first Triple-Crown winner in quite some time. Attendance at most major league parks is on pace to break last year's marks. Yes indeed, MLB is looking at a summer that could be talked about for years to come. Despite all the excitement of record-runs, increased attendance and potential playoff races, baseball fans see the dark cloud of the players' strike on the horizon for this season. It's really nothing new. Strikes have been fairly common place since the late 70s within baseball ('72, '73, '76, '80, '81, '85 and '90). The Players' Union, which has made quite a few advances in how players have been treated since the inception of the game, has basically come to "loggerheads" with the owners over the issue of a salary-cap. This salary cap is designed to keep to keep the owners within a set level of spending concerning player's salaries. If this is agreed to, the current system of arbitration will be obsolete. The players will no longer be able to have their salaries raised to the astronomical levels we have witnessed since the 1990 free agent signings. The basic point here is that the owners stand to lose very little under this proposed system, while the players stand to lose billions of potential dollars. The game, however, stands to gain a lot through this system. Under the newest round of expansion, the current talent pool of players has been dilued even further. The teams that can afford the "big" stars are loading their teams up with such "gate-drawing" superstars. Teams located in the smaller markets can't gain these superstars to effect their turnstile counts. Under the new system that is proposed by the owners, these smaller teams will have a better chance to afford and obtain these stars for their lineups. This should provide boosts for their turnstile counts and for their team's on-field play. A strike will hurt quite a few people. For instance, some cities depend heavily on the revenue and taxes that the stadiums bring into their budgets. Average citizens employed for the season by the stadiums as vendors, merchandisers and the such, will see their pocketbooks experience a drought in times where everyone is feeling the financial "pinch." The owners will be slightly hurt since the revenue of their team won't be coming in on a regular basis, but most of the owners are financially independent through other means. The players are working from guarenteed contracts, and will make most of their contractual monies where they play or not. The young fans will experience a let-down as their idols (most notably the three mentioned above that are chasing basbeball history) are sent packing before the season draws to a close. And lastly, MLB itself will be hurt as scores of fans (most who remember the strikes of the past) leave MLB for other sports such as Football and Basketball. Fans believe that they are powerless to influence players and owners in such issues as salaries and the such. But they are wrong. Fans have a lot of influence on the game. Fans pay the sharply escalating prices of tickets. Fans are the ones that drop the dollar into the pockets' of the players and owners. In today's game of baseball, the ALMIGHTY dollar speaks very loudly. If fans would refuse to pay the high prices at the games, the players and owners might be able to see what ails baseball. If the Owners and the Players' Union can resolve their differences and avert a strike, remains to be seen. However, if a strike takes place, the long-term effects on MLB could possibly be as devastating as the 1919 Black Sox scandal. That scandal almost sunk baseball, except that a savior named Herman "The Babe" Ruth arrived on the scene and brought back the excitement missing from the game. I'm not too sure that the greed of the players and owners is going to find such a savior this time around. ÚÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄ¿ ³ 110 Nodes * 4000 Conferences * 30.0 Gigabytes * 100,000+ Archives ³ ÀÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÙ ÛÛßßßßßß ÛÛ ÛÛ ÛÛßßßßÛÛ ÛÛßßÛ ÛÛ ÛÛßßÛ ÛÛ ÛÛßßßßßß ÛÛ ßÛÛ (R) ÛÛ ÛÛÜÜÜÜÛÛ ÛÛÜÜÜÜÛÛ ÛÛ Û ÛÛ ÛÛ Û ÛÛ ÛÛÜÜÜÜÜÜ ÛÛ ÛÛ ÛÛ ÛÛ ÛÛ ÛÛ ÛÛ ÛÛ Û ÛÛ ÛÛ Û ÛÛ ÛÛ ÛÛ Ü ÛÛ ßßßßßßßß ßß ßß ßß ßß ßß ßßßß ßß ßßßß ßßßßßßßß ßßßßßßß ßßßß °°°°°°°° * Winner, First Dvorak/Zoom "Best General BBS" Award °°°°°°°° * INTERNET/Usenet Access * DOS/Windows/OS2/Mac/Amiga/Unix * ILink, RIME, Smartnet * Best Files in the USA * Pen & Brush, BASnet. * 120 Online Games * QWKmail & Offline Readers * Multi-line Chat Closing Stocks, Financial News, Business/Professional Software, NewsBytes, PC-Catalog, MovieCritic, EZines, AbleData, ASP, 4DOS Huge Windows, Graphics, Music, Programming, Education Libraries ÚÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄ¿ ³ Channel 1 Communications(R) * Cambridge, MA * 617-354-3230 14.4 ³ ÀÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÙ °°°úfasterúbetterúless expensiveú°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°° "Best Files in US" ° Mars, the Face, and the Bulletin Board: An interview with Elizabeth Orne Copyright (c) 1994, L. Shawn Aiken All rights reserved Elizabeth Orne is a programmer who runs THE MARS INFORMATION EXCHANGE, a Dallas based computer bulletin board system that is devoted to information related to interesting new discoveries about Mars and other anomalies found throughout the solar system. While interviewing her on the night of August 12th over her BBS, we began to discuss governmental interference in the acquisition of data. Suddenly the electricity went off at my home and I lost the entire interview. Luckily Ms. Orne had been keeping her own log of the chat. I don't REALLY think that the government had anything to do with it, but you never know . . . STTS: What were the demons that drove you into the world of BBSes? MS. ORNE: Well, that's an interesting question. Two years ago I decided to start a BBS to support my software users. So I set it up and ran that for around a year. It was about that time that I realized that none of my clients ever called because most didn't know how to use a modem, and others preferred that I come to their office to install updates for them. STTS: What made you decide to set up THE MARS INFORMATION EXCHANGE? MS. ORNE: About that time I picked up a copy of The Monuments of Mars by Dick Hoagland. I had seen the book a couple of years previously but, for some reason it didn't really catch my attention. Anyway, reading the book was fascinating and I decided that I would log on few BBSes and see if there was any information out there about the really interesting propositions that Dick was making. I was amazed to discover that there was almost nothing available. Well, since I was getting ready to shut down the BBS that I was running for my business, and in light of my new interest in Mars and Cydonia, The Mars Information Exchange was born. STTS: Where do you get your information for TMIE? MS. ORNE: I scoured BBSes everywhere across America for data. In fact, I still do make regular 'bomb runs' on numerous BBSes . The artifact questions regarding Mars are of such singular importance that I really feel that there is a large need for a central data base on the subject. Also, at the time that I started TMIE, the Mars Observer was 3 or 4 months out from Mars and according to Dick Hoagland and others it seemed that the questions revolving around Cydonia where going to be answered in just a few short months. Those days and weeks of waiting were filled with anxiety. I remember the heart sinking feeling that I suffered when the Mars Observer failed. It wasn't long after that that the Cydonia issue began to wane a bit. It's really hard to keep specific subjects in the public eye. But, we are going back to Mars in a couple of years and TMIE will still be here collecting info and ready to distribute the answers to the questions posed by Cydonia when the data finally arrives. STTS: What specific parts of Hoagland's book caught your attention? MS. ORNE: The Monuments of Mars by Dick Hoagland draws attention to a very small region of Mars where Viking (this was a mission sent to Mars in the 70's) photos seemed to show pictures of a face and, what appears to be intelligently constructed structures, just adjacent to the image of the face. These photos have been scrutinized in great detail by many researchers and, of course, this has resulted in two camps of scientist - those who think that it's all a simple illusion created by lighting and those who think that there is either something there or feel that these enigmatic objects are at least worth re-photographing in greater detail. The photos taken by Viking were of insufficient resolution to allow for any conclusions regarding their origin. In recent years there has been a lot of work put forth by workers such as Erol Torun who ascribe all kinds of mathematical relationships to the structures seen in the Viking photos. But for me, at least, the most compelling evidence are the photos themselves. The photos beckon an immediate sense of recognition, a kind of gestalt. They seem to be saying "Look here! These structures are artificial." So I guess in answer to your question, the most interesting portion of Dick's book were in fact the Viking images themselves. STTS: Can you describe these structures and explain why they are believed to be artificial? MS. ORNE: Yes, I can. The structure that first catches one's eye, and in fact was the first object to catch Dick Hoagland's eye, is the face itself. Right there in the middle of the Cydonian plain a huge stone (one presumes it is made of stone or other hard substance) face stares out into space. It's symmetry is striking. The fact that the face is apparently human creates a great number of questions regarding previous notions about our origins. Several kilometers to the west of the face are structures that look to be pyramids and the remains of other artificial structures. I think the most compelling aspect of the Cydonia region is that all of the interesting features are all within a few kilometers of each other. You can look at hundreds of images of Mars and find no evidence of anything remotely artificial looking but, when you look at the Cydonia Plain there are artificial looking structures littered all over the landscape. One of the structures (which has been coined "The Fort") looks like a pyramid with a portion of the top collapsed and you can actually look down inside it. STTS: Scientists in the 70's noticed those pyramids and said that they were simply sand dunes formed by the wind. Has there been a concentrated effort by scientists to explain away all of these features through natural means? MS. ORNE: Yes, NASA, for the first several years, stood firmly on the opinion that the structures where entirely natural, regardless of mounting evidence to the contrary. I think that I should point out here that although the photos are compelling for many, very view individuals take these photos as proof, but rather a case for a return imaging mission to clear up the mystery. In any case, NASA has actually been caught in the act of obstructing information regarding internal views of the Cydonia region when a memo was found circulating in NASA which instructed employees to hinder requests, change text in documents etc. with regard to the Cydonia question. They have since retracted (publicly at least) these directives. Dr. McDaniel of Sanoma State University has written an excellent treatment of the history of NASA's views and their methodology regarding the Cydonian question. STTS: Is this obstructionist memo available to the public? MS. ORNE: I knew that you were going to ask that and yes, I am sure that it is but, off the top of my head I don't think that I can provide a means of obtaining it. I'd have to go back through my own reading material and locate some reference's to the Document. I am sure that Dick Hoagland's organization "The Mars Mission" would be more than happy to provide instructions in obtaining the aforementioned document. STTS: Your board has a summary of a book called The McDaniel Report in the files section, a report that goes over inconsistencies in governmental actions on this subject. Does that book discuss this memo? MS. ORNE: I am pretty sure that it does. The book entitled simply "The McDaniel Report" is published by North Atlantic Books and went into general distribution 2 months ago (that would be early June 1994). There is a very interest summary of the book available on this BBS. I think that McDaniel presents many valid arguments. STTS: Okay. I want to get to those arguments soon, but if you don't mind if we venture back to Mars for a sec. What was it about the book (Hoagland's) that, so to speak, 'pushed you over the edge?" What data finally convinced you that there may be something to all of this? MS. ORNE: This may sound naieve (oh boy i can't spell) but, the œQ³i²Y ****** END CHAT on Aug-12-94 at 22:10:50 ****** ****** BEGIN CHAT on Aug-12-94 at 23:23:28 with Shawn Aiken ****** MS. ORNE: It's really funny but although I really don't think that the FEDS are watching I've had all kinds of strange things happen here since I started the Mars Board. STTS: What kind of strange things have happened? MS. ORNE: Well, my phones beep a couple of times a day. I get line noise on this machine and my other machine at the most inopportune moments. Sometimes I even get beeps while I'm talking on the phone (not the calling waiting kind either). I really, think it is coincidence but, other theories have crossed my mind. Anyway, your last question was back to the Monuments book and what part was really most interesting. STTS: Oh yes. Interesting to you. The stuff that 'pushed you over the edge'. MS. ORNE: I don't want to sound naive but, the most compelling portions of the book really were the images. Dick presents a lot of very interesting ideas regarding geometric associations and such but, I'm always suspicious of such relationships. He may well turn out to be correct but, the images themselves still seem to speak the loudest. He also attempts to draw parallels to Egypt and the pyramids there, with emphasis on the Sphinx. STTS: Exactly what parallels? MS. ORNE: Well, the one point that most impressed me was that Cairo actually means MARS. STTS: Is there any geometrical relationship between the two he could find? MS. ORNE: Actually, as I recall there were. Off the top of my head I can't remember exactly what they were. Again, I wasn't as impressed with the mathematical relationships as many others have been. I guess, it's just to easy to read such relationships into things where no such actual relationships exist. I really would like to say however, that Dick and Erol may very well be right, I'm just not, at the moment, very impressed with the data. STTS: Have you spoken to Richard Hoagland? MS. ORNE: I spoke with Dick several months ago and I got the impression that at that time he was expending his energy in uncovering Government collusion regarding the failure of the Mars Observer. Dick feels, and I also believe, that it's a bit suspicious that the MARS Observer failed. Building these machines is something that the US is really good at. And apparently NASA turned off the radios prior to an important maneuver which is absolutely against all of the previously defined procedures. The radios provide all kinds of information to ground controlers if something goes wrong even in the event that the satellite blows up the radio data (if you leave them on) provides detailed information about what went wrong. The whole affair is rather mysterious. STTS: Was this what sparked the McDaniel Report? MS. ORNE: Actually, the McDaniel report was already in the works at the time of the MARS Observer's failure. The McDaniel report was spurred by NASA's adamant refusal to spend any effort in re-imaging the Cydonia site. It was only Dick Hoagland's hard work talking to NASA and congress that swayed NASA's stance on the matter. STTS: So NASA had decided to re-image the site? MS. ORNE: Yes, but with one major flaw. NASA signed a contract with a group headed by Malin (the builder of the on board hi-res camera). Malin had complete authority with regard to what images would be released, and could keep images to himself for up to 6 months before releasing them. There was a lot of fear going around that Malin would doctor the images prior to release. This is the first time ever that a contractor was given such latitude with NASA imaging. STTS: Is NASA in the habit of contracting out image processing? MS. ORNE: No, not until the contract with Malin and the MARS Observer program. It really appeared, and still does, that this was an attempt by NASA to move the information into private hands so that no one could make any demands regarding the disposition of the imaging. If NASA kept the imaging in house then we could always force their hand. NASA is, after all, solely owned by the American people - Malin's group is not. STTS: Has there been any other attempt to control the information coming from space exploration? MS. ORNE: Never before. Recently, and this is another story, the military re-imaged the MOON with the satellite Clementine. They have been hoarding that information but, the military is really a different story. Although, I can't imagine what's classified about the Moon. STTS: Which leads me into the area of the Moon and what has recently been being talked about on your board. What is going on? MS. ORNE: Well, several months ago Dick Hoagland released some old Apollo and Surveyor (not sure of all of the various missions that were involved) photos taken back in the 60's. As in turns out there are a lot of very interesting pictures to be found including some depicting spires several miles high and what appear to be great structures in the Mare Crisium region and around Ukert crater. A Dr. Coronet has examined the photos and feels that these may represent artifacts perhaps 500 million years old or older. Some of these images were of excellent quality but were listed as blurred in the NASA imaging catalogs. This brings the whole NASA withholding data argument back up again. About the time that this was going on the military sent a satellite to the Moon called Clementine. It was equipped with very high resolution cameras and the mission was essentially classified. Well, I guess the question that comes to my mind is why would the military want to re-image the moon (with high-res equipment) and why would they want that data classified. After all the moon is probably one of the most imaged objects in the solar system besides the Earth itself. STTS: People have been looking at the moon for centuries with telescopes. We've had countless images made of the moon by probes in the last two or three decades. How could 'mile high' structures have been missed? MS. ORNE: Well, actually at least some of these structures have been reported on and off for quite awhile. They all fall under the category of LTP's (Lunar Transient Phenomena). There have been large numbers of reports of such things from ground based telescopes for quite some time. Here again with regard to the satellite based NASA imaging. How come all the interesting photos were cataloged as blurred but, when ordered you find that in fact the images are quite clear. Some are again questioning whether NASA had noticed the anomalies a long time ago but, were attempting to make the images appear disinteresting by placing misinformation in the catalogs. In fact many of the images, if you order them from NASA, will come with a note indicating that due to a NEW process the photo's may be blurred. STTS: If any of this is true, it would be apparent that something existed that should AT LEAST be looked into. Why is there no interest in this from 'respected' circles? MS. ORNE: The McDaniel report actually addresses that issue. The simple fact is that if, as a scientist, you suggest the idea that there may be artificial structures on the Moon or on Mars you're immediately labeled a nut. This is done without any review of data. It's a knee-jerk reaction and one that has only been around for the last 50 years or so. Before that it was considered OK to speculate about such things without worrying about such behavior from your associates. It's clearly not science but something that has become a part of the scientific culture - almost a kind of belief system that ignores certain things without regard for data. Some ideas are just not received well these days. STTS: Are the people involved with this (Hoagland, Cornet, Torun, and McDaniel) merely amateurs, or do they have scientific training? MS. ORNE: Hoagland has an impression background as a science journalist and has worked as an advisor for the major networks during the Apollo era. Cornet is a PH.D. (I believe in geology although I could be wrong). Erol Torun works for the US Mapping agency and has a lot of experience with working with aerial photographs and McDaniel is also a PH.D. There are also many others both inside and outside of NASA who support Dick Hoagland's Mars Mission. STTS: What is the purpose of THE MARS INFORMATION EXCHANGE? MS. ORNE: The mission of The Mars Information Exchange, and now it's sister board on IOS (International On-line Service) is to provide a place to both collect and disseminate information regarding apparent artifacts on other planetary bodies and where applicable there relationship to the Earth. I really feel strongly that a central source is needed rather than the previously haphazard way the data was stored in bits and pieces on other boards throughout America. The implications of the data, if it turns out to be true, could change our most fundamental concepts about our origins and who we are. The board in it's small why is my contribution to the further pursuit of this information. STTS: Does your board go beyond this scope? MS. ORNE: Actually, I hadn't intended it to - but yes, it has. There seems to be, albeit a tenuous, connection between the UFO phenomena and interest in artifacts on neighboring planetary bodies. I had so many requests for information regarding ufos that I started carrying a section devoted to that as well. Along the lines of diversity, I also have plans to add CD-ROMs to the system which will contain all of the original Viking imaging. There really is a need to go back over all those hundreds of images to see if there are other anomalous areas on Mars. I would also like to obtain some CDs of lunar imaging but, I'm not sure if such an animal is currently available. Dick Hoagland has indicated (in a conversation we had last week) that he may begin placing information updates on Frontier II, the TMIE sister board on IOS along with the ability to order photos, videos and audio tapes.. I'm keeping my fingers crossed. STTS: What are IOS and Frontier II? MS. ORNE: Frontier II is the next logical step for the Mars Information Exchange. To date, everyone (who didn't live in Dallas) had to call long distance to get on the board. Now, by calling the International On-line Service, or IOS, people can reach the board with a local call. There is fee for using IOS, but it's less than the long distance charges. This will be mean a wider availability of information to a lot more people. STTS: Is Frontier II a separate BBS located on IOS that is managed by you? MS. ORNE: Yes, exactly. Frontier II is located within the IOS system which is located in Downtown Dallas. I manage all of the resources etc. remotely. I changed the name from The Mars Information Exchange to Frontier II to better reflect the expanded information (i.e., the Moon etc...)... STTS: What sorts of files do you keep on the systems? MS. ORNE: I'm going to make every attempt to keep the same files on both systems. At the moment there are sections pertaining to Mars, The Moon and ufos with various sub grouping inside each of the categories. There isn't a lot of information simply because there isn't much information to be found, but what is there is the most comprehensive collection of files on Mars or the Moon that I'm aware of on any single system. STTS: What types of files do you have in these sections? MS. ORNE: There are assorted image files of almost all of the anomalous features currently under discussion. These image files are mostly GIF files but, there are also some JPG's and PCX files. There are also some viewers available for those who don't already have the software for looking at the images. In addition to image files there are many text files which contain information, conversations and theories regarding all of the anomalies. Some programs can also be found, for example there is an excellent program for learning more about the Moon. There are also demonstration programs of my own software that I write for attorneys who practice bankruptcy. This is what I do to pay the rent. The Mars Information is strictly a public service that I feel strongly about. STTS: What sorts of message bases do you have? MS. ORNE: There are a variety of specialized message areas. Of course the full range of pertinent FIDO areas are available, these include messages areas about UFOS, Fringe science and the like. There are also numerous local message areas (these messages stay on this board only) regarding the Cydonia site, the moon, ufos the Paranormal, geology, Martian history. Some of these areas are more active than others. The board also supports QWK format off-line readers for those who want to just jump on and download mail and later quickly upload replies. STTS: What message areas are the most active? MS. ORNE: At the moment "What's happening on the Moon" is the most active. This is because the Moon is a current interest of the Mars Mission. When the Mars Observer died, interest in Mars waned because there appeared to be no hope in resolving the issue in the foreseeable future. The moon is a different story. If the military releases the Clementine photos then we can know, right now, whether there is anything of interest on the Moon or not. The moon section is by far the most active at the moment followed closely by ufos (always an interesting subject no matter what else is happening.) STTS: Is there any scheduled date that these images will be released? MS. ORNE: Sadly, none that I am aware of. The current fear is that by the time we get them the interesting ones will have been air brushed. I think that the only hope of getting information that everyone can feel comfortable with is to mount a private lunar satellite mission to the Moon. This is, in fact, one of the things that the Mars Mission is trying to put together. The estimated cost is 30 million and will have to come solely from donations. STTS: What do you think the most interesting Lunar object or site is? MS. ORNE: Mare Crisium is by far the most interesting area and contains apparent towers and bridges. This would be the area that I would want to see high resolution photos of. There are other areas such as the vicinity of Ukert crater, but Mare Crisium remains the most talked about. Hoagland had indicated that he believes that Mare Crisium contains the remnants of a huge domed structure. STTS: What other file areas are available? Ms. Orne: The Mars file section contains lots of images of the Cydonia area and other anomalous areas on Mars. If all goes well I'll be adding a CD-ROM in the next month or two and will make available the entire planet Mars from NASA Viking images which I can get on CD. This would allow users, or perhaps a group of users, to reexamine other areas of Mars for additional anomalies. An amateur survey, if you will. STTS: How much data will be available with this? MS. ORNE: Somewhere in the neighborhood of 3 gigs of Viking imaging. At first I'll have to place 1 CD in the CD drive each day and provide a schedule of which days which CDs will be available. Eventually, I'd like to have all the CDs available all the time. STTS: And how many CDs does this collection contain? MS. ORNE: Between 6 and 10. NASA is not finished making them so I don't, at the moment, know the final number. I'm sure that NASA will also be making other satellite mission imaging available that could be added as well. As far as I know, there isn't any organized data on CD regarding the Moon yet, and I don't know if NASA has any plans in that regard. STTS: What other missions would you like to have available? MS. ORNE: I'm just guessing but, I would expect that it's NASA's intent to place other missions on CD as well such as Voyager 1 and 2, Magellan and Galileo when it's available (it hasn't reached it's target -Jupiter- Yet) but, will be dropping a probe into the Jovian atmosphere. STTS: What else do you know of that will be available on your board? MS. ORNE: At the moment Mars is the emphasis. Someone else can do Venus .. I do have, in the back of my mind however, to start a new section dealing with ancient anomalies here on Earth that may tie into the Mars/Moon imaging and information. I really don't have any files in that area at the moment though. STTS: Aside from message bases and files, what else does your board have to offer? MS. ORNE: At the moment that's it, just messages and files. I do hope to add some type of door programs at some point the nature of which I'm not sure of at the moment (Not games though). STTS: What types of doors? MS. ORNE: Well, a database access door has come to mind although this would probably be something in conjunction with Viking CDs for locating sites of interesting categorized images. STTS: Like a search program? MS. ORNE: Yes something like that with perhaps some ANSII graphics to provide descriptions for processes etc. Sort of an encyclopedia of Mars. I have been considering RIP graphics as well (this would be optional) but would allow for much more comprehensive imaging on-line. STTS: So what other plans do you have? MS. ORNE: Beyond my presidential aspirations that's about it ..... STTS: Okay. Thank you very much for your time. Suggested Reading Material - The Monuments of Mars, by Richard Hoagland, North Atlantic Books, 1987. The McDaniel Report, by Dr. McDaniel, North Atlantic Books, 1993. Electronic Services - The Mars Information Exchange - (214) 904-0338 Frontier II on the International On-line Service - (214) 630-0242 (to locate the local access #). Organizations - The Mars Mission 122 Dodd Street Weehawken, NJ 07087 Survey Results Copyright (c) 1994, Joe DeRouen All rights reserved Beginning last month, everyone who answered the survey had their name thrown into a hat for a random drawing. Each month we'll give away a prize of some great (or not-so-great) worth by drawing a name out of the hat. Everyone who fills out and sends in a survey is eligible! Sept. 1st was the first such drawing, and Dave Crumb of Chicago, Illinois was selected to win Cinemark's claymation VGA/Soundblaster game FREE DC! Congratulations, Dave! The Oct. 1st prize will be three FREE month's of access of Cambridge, Mass.'s mega BBS Channel 1. Check out the MONTHLY PRIZE GIVEAWAY articles from the main menu for more details. # # # The results are in from the survey in the Aug. issue of STTS, and tabulated below for a median score. So far, the response rate has been tremendous. We've received responses from all over the USA and several other countries including Canada, South America, and France! For those of you who've yet to respond, please do so now. Your response will be greatly appreciated, and help shape the look, feel, and content of the magazine in the months to come. I'd like to thank everyone who responded. Each and every one of your comments were read and taken into consideration. In the survey, I asked the readers to rate the sections of the magazine on a scale of 1 to 10, 10 being the best and one being the worst. Here's the averages, taken by adding all the scores for an indiviual section (eg: fiction) and dividing it by the number of survey's received that scored that section with something other than an "X" for no comment. Magazine sections are ranked in order of scores, from highest to lowest: SCORES ÄÄÄÄÄÄ Fiction: 9.6 Poetry: 9.2 Book Reviews: 8.0 Editorial: 8.6 Feature Articles: 8.6 Humour: 8.7 Movie Reviews: 8.6 Software Reviews: 8.9 ANSI Coverart: 7.3 CD Reviews: 7.1 Question & Answers: 7.1 Summary: Fiction and poetry seemed to prove the most popular, as I was sure it would. Nothing really received *bad* scores, though, which is promising. Of the reviews, the software reviews seem to be ahead, the book and movie reviews seemed to be neck and neck, and the CD reviews place a somewhat distant fourth. What the above scores really *don't* tell is that the surveys seemed to be divided into camps. There were several people that read STTS mainly for fiction and poetry, and almost as many people who read it exclusively for the reviews. Both groups scored their interest group high while X'ing a "No Comment" on the other sections. Again, many thanks to those of you who took the time to fill out and send in your surveys. If you haven't yet filled out the survey, you still have time to do so. Thanks for reading and, if you haven't already, please fill out the survey! Þ°±²Û²±°±²Û²±°±²Û²±°±²Û²±°±²Û²±°±²Û²±°±²Û²±°±²Û²±°±²Û²±°±²Û²±°±²Û²±°±²Û²±°±²Û²±Ý ÞúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúÝ Þ ÚÄÄÄÄÄÄ¿ 2400bps &  (414) 789-4210 Ý Þ ³ ÚÄÄÄÄÙ "The best connection your USR HST 9600 (414) 789-4337 Ý Þ ³ ³ modem will ever make!!" USR HST 14400 (414) 789-4352 Ý Þ ³ ÀÄÄÄ¿ v.32bis 14400 (414) 789-4360 Ý Þ ³ ÚÄÄÄÙ Ü Ü ÜÜÜÜÜ ÜÜÜÜÜ ÜÜÜÜÜ ÜÜÜÜÜ Compucom 9600 (414) 789-4450 Ý Þ ³ ³ ßÜß ÛÜÜÜ Û ÜÜÜ ÛÜÜÜÛ Û Hayes V-Series (414) 789-4315 Ý Þ ³ ÀÄÄÄÄ¿ Üß ßÜ ÛÜÜÜÜ ÛÜÜÜÜ Û ÛÜÜÜÜ v.FC 28800 (414) 789-4500 Ý Þ ÀÄÄÄÄÄÄÙ Ý Þ Ý Þ þ Exec-PC BBS is the largest LAN and microcomputer based BBS in the world! Ý Þ þ 280+ dedicated phone lines - NO busy signals - 24-Hour access Ý Þ þ Over 650,000 files and programs - DOS, Windows, OS/2, Mac, Unix, Amiga Ý Þ þ Lightning fast - Search 20,000 files in 2 seconds with Hyperscan feature Ý Þ þ Over 42 CD-ROM's online - Scan all of them at 1 time for keywords Ý Þ þ Special Apogee games, Moraffware games, and Adult file areas Ý Þ þ Extensive message system with QWK compatability - Also, Fidonet areas! Ý Þ þ Online Doors / Games / Job Search / PC-Catalog / Online Magazines Ý Þ þ Over 5000 callers per day can't be wrong - 35 gig of online storage! Ý Þ þ Low subscription rates: $25 for 3 months, $75 for a full year Ý ÞúúúúúúúúúúúúCallútheúBBSúforúaúFREEútrialúdemo,úandúFREEúdownloadsúúúúúúúúúúúúÝ Þ°±²Û²±°±²Û²±°±²Û²±°±²Û²±°±²Û²±°±²Û²±°±²Û²±°±²Û²±°±²Û²±°±²Û²±°±²Û²±°±²Û²±°±²Û²±Ý Computer Software Reviews Copyright (c) 1994, Louis Turbeville All rights reserved Blue Wave Off-line Mail Reader Requires: DOS 3.3 or above, Shareware program Cutting Edge Computing Registration Fee: $25.00 Bulletin Board Systems have many exciting features. You may check the latest Shareware/freeware files, play a diversionary on-line game or explore the robust world of electronic mail. Ideally you would like to do all of the above. However, without an easy-to-use off-line mail reader you could not possibly enjoy many of the opportunities and help that the world of e-mail has to offer. With the growing popularity of message conferences, some with hundreds of message posts a day, you could not read many of your favorite conferences and still have time to look at other features of a BBS. To alleviate this problem many boards are using off-line mail utilities that allow a user to read messages off-line and enjoy other aspects of the board while freeing up telephone lines quicker. One of the top mail reader programs is Blue Wave. Blue Wave can be used with any BBS mail utility that uses either the QWK or Blue Wave mail packet format. Blue Wave is very easy for the beginner to use, but has a lot of power functions for the experienced user and someone who wants to get the most out of a program as possible. A few or its many functions include: - An address book - to keep the name of people you write to most often - DOS Shell - The ability to run batch files - The ability to post the same message in many conference with one keystroke - Delete messages from your mail packet - Reply to messages with one quick keystroke - It automatically quotes the original message when you enter a reply - Delete, Edit or View replies that you have already saved - Read the BBS opening screens and bulletins (if your BBS has the capability) - View and request new files from your BBS (if your BBS has the capability) - Scan for personnal mail - Sort the display order for messages in your mail packet. With all of these capabilities, Blue Wave is still one of the easiest mail reader programs to learn and use. If you do a lot of electronic mail and messages through your local BBS then you owe it to yourself to check this program out. Computer Software Reviews Copyright (c) 1994, Louis Turbeville All rights reserved TIME Man Of The Year - CD-ROM Compact Publishing, Inc. PO. Box 40310 Washington, D.C. 20016 (800)964-1518 List Price: $39.95 If you need to find information on some of the most influential people during the last seven decades, this is a must see program. The Time Man Of The Year CD-ROM has bibliographical information on the TIME Magazine Man Of The Year winners dating back to 1927. There are photographs and video clips of each person. Besides having the Man Of The Year winners, this program also has information on some of the most prominently featured people ever covered by the pages of TIME Magazine, under the section titled Portraits. The individuals covered in the Portrait section are very influential and have had far reaching impacts on the world, but never received the distinction of TIME Man Of The Year. The program also has the text of every issue for the past year. The disk I reviewed was for 1992 and prominently features President Clinton, who was the 1992 TIME Man Of The Year recipient. The program itself is easy to use. You can view photos, video clips and text easily. There is a search feature that allow you to browse all of the text related to a particular subject. Once you find the information you want to use, getting that information into your document is only a cut and paste away. This program requires a CD-ROM player, Windows and 1MB of hard disk space. Most of the information is kept on the CD, where is should be. However, when viewing video clips you may have to be patient while the program copies the video files to the HD for quicker playing. Other than patience, there are no technological difficulties to contend with. Everything seems to run very nicely right from the start. If you like history, you'll enjoy this program. It is a very useful tool for the student writing many historical papers or doing research. There is a ton of information on some of the most influential personalities in recent history and a whole years worth of text from one of the best information sources, TIME magazine. Lights Out Copyright (c) 1994, Bruce Diamond All rights reserved ÚÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄ¿ ³ IT COULD HAPPEN TO YOU: Andrew Bergman, director. ³ ³ Jane Angerson, screenplay. Starring Nicolas Cage, ³ ³ Bridget Fonda, Rosie Perez, Wendell Pierce, Isaac ³ ³ Hayes, Seymour Cassel, Stanley Tucci, Richard Jenkins ³ ³ and Red Buttons. TriStar. Rated PG. ³ ÀÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÙ IT COULD HAPPEN TO YOU is a deliriously giddy movie, a work that's determined to make you feel better despite yourself. Such an aggressively feel-good movie hasn't appeared on screen since, well, since last year's SLEEPLESS IN SEATTLE. Though neither romantic comedy share cast, crew, or creative personnel, they still resonate on the same giddy level, layering the proceedings in a fantasy-like quality. The situations (a perfect love changing your life forever; top prize in a lottery changing your live forever) are storybook simple writ large -- the choice of music, the "staging," even the staggering coincidences that turn up in both films underscore the similarity in style. The directors do have their distinctive touches, though: Nora Ephron (SLEEPLESS) keeps a light, breezy touch on her material. SLEEPLESS is airy and expansive, as open as Tom Hanks' heart and Meg Ryan's smile. Andrew Bergman (IT COULD HAPPEN) exhibits a tarter edge to his humor, nervous and twitchy (Rosie Perez), and by turns glum and morose (Nicolas Cage, Bridget Fonda). But the romantic icing with which Bergman frosts his story makes this film brighter and more colorful than its nigh-claustrophobic Queens settings would normally allow. I'd refer to IT COULD HAPPEN TO YOU as the SLEEPLESS IN SEATTLE of 1994, but it's a little more intelligent and won't earn as much box office as Ephron's frothy mix. Plus some other critic already beat me to it. The film is a wonderful romantic comedy originally titled COP GIVES WAITRESS $2 MILLION TIP, which says it all. Cage plays the big-hearted cop with an old-fashioned "goodness" that never lapses into unbelievably wide-eyed innocence or smarmy sentiment. He does what he does (honors his promises; saves a merchant from a holdup) because it's what he does. He needs to be good, because it's an essential part of his nature, like breathing. Approval, awards, or applause never enter his mind, though they do visit him throughout the story. That's why he's a cop. Cage's character is a refreshing change from the current crop of "What's in it for me?" protagonists -- and actors, for that matter. It's a role that would fit Tom Hanks or Richard Dreyfuss just as well as it fits Cage. Fonda's waitress, while just as cheery as Cage in the latter half of the film, starts out a bit cranky and cantankerous. Who can blame her -- she's just declared bankruptcy, having been stuck with a $12,000 credit card bill by her estranged husband. Her protestations that she can't afford a divorce don't wash in this day of $40 quicky specials. Despite her troubles, though, she still manages to force a smile for smart-alecky customers (Cage and his cop partner) and avoids blowing up at her Scrooge- like boss. Cage and Fonda are almost too good to be true, so of course they're going to fall in love. When the "lottery cop and waitress" begin sharing their good fortune with others -- buying subway tokesn for strangers, renting a baseball stadium for the neighborhood kids -- the film almost teeters into pur sappiness. Disasters visited upon the pair (in the form of Rosie Perez as a shrewish wife and Stanley Tucci as Fonda's unemployed actor husband) almost seem forced, contrived to counterbalance the sweetness. The third act reality-warping coincidence that throws Cage and Fonda together at the Plaza nearly topples the realism created by screenwriter Jane Anderson and director Bergman. Cage and Fonda are solid enough, however, to carry us through such concerns and even bring us to cheer for them. A seemingly-metaphysical Isaac Hayes ("Angel") serves as narrator, but he's thankfully brought to ground by the time we reach the Plaza. He serves as an understated observer to what is loosely based on a true story. "The story you're about to see is more or less true," he tells us in the beginning, and you find yourself wishing that more films carried the same disclaimer. IT COULD HAPPEN TO YOU doesn't need it, though, because it's strong enough, and entertaining enough, to stand on its own merits. RATING: $$$ Lights Out Copyright (c) 1994, Bruce Diamond All rights reserved ÚÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄ¿ ³ CORINNA, CORINNA: Written & directed by Jessie Nelson. ³ ³ Starring Whoopi Goldberg, Ray Liotta, Tina Majorino, ³ ³ Wendy Crewson, Larry Miller, Erica Yohn, Jenifer Lewis, ³ ³ Joan Cusack, and Don Ameche. New Line Cinema. Rated PG. ³ ÀÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÙ Whoopi's had an interesting career, alternating broad comedy (BURGLAR, GHOST, SISTER ACT) with heart-touching drama (THE COLOR PURPLE, THE LONG WALK HOME, CLARA'S HEART), equally at home wringing laughter or tears from her audience. On the heels of 1993's disappointing MADE IN AMERICA, we now have CORINNA, CORINNA, a touching look at a young girl, her nanny, and her father. Set in the 1950s, CORINNA, CORINNA is a film more of its characters than of the time it wants to portray. Ray Liotta is a jingle writer with an ad agency that's working on big name accounts like Mr. Potato Head and Jello. His wife dies unexpectedly, and due to his commitments at work, he needs to hire a nanny, and he needs to do it right away. The parade of nannies is starting to become old hat for this kind of picture (neatly spoofed by the multi-voiced Robin Williams in MRS. DOUBTFIRE), and the present film really adds nothing to the clich‚. There's the bible-thumper, the neurotic, the storm- trooper, and the demander, all laid out in a row like a blueprint for a Mary Poppins remake. Whoopi's interview scene is rather standard as well, nervous during the interview (trying to take charge, then backpedaling mightily), capped off by her kind act towards Tina Majorino, Liotta's daughter, that the father happens to catch through a parted curtain. This kind of scene always strikes me as false; just because a person is kind to a child doesn't mean he or she will make a good babysitter/nanny/ caretaker. But of course Whoopi does, and manages to draw Majorino out of her shell. Majorino temporarily refuses to speak after her mother's death, falling into a self-imposed autism that you'd expect the father to have her examined by a specialist -- he makes enough money to pay for treatment. But all it takes, and here's another one of the movie's fallacies, is Whoopi's love and irreverent attitude to overcome the child's deep psychological scars. It only happens in the movies, folks, and in this instance serves as the first step to the inevitable: Goldberg and Liotta falling in love. I don't mean to sound cynical here -- the scenes are tentative and very touching, and there's one shot of Majorino lying on a hillside, her mother's dress beside her and her hand hidden protectively in one of the dress' pockets, that will absolutely pull your heart out of your body. It may be a manipulative scene with little grounding in reality, but the image *works*, and works exceedingly well. Would that writer/director Jessie Nelson had crafted the rest of the picture as lovingly as that shot. After Majorino begins speaking, the focus shifts to the incipient love story, which grows very naturally from the circumstances. Both Liotta and Goldberg share an intimate knowledge of music, he due to his chosen profession, she because she loves music and longs to write album liner notes (remember liner notes?) and a column in "High Hat" magazine. Music becomes the universal language of love, to steal a quote from another source, and as the soundtrack becomes more lush and more lusty (bluesy numbers from Louis Armstrong and Billy Holliday add nicely to the proceedings), the relationship deepens, and relatives on both sides (Liotta's parents, Goldberg's sister) begin to notice, all the time fixing them up with boring, desperate dates. Wendy Crewson does a nice turn as Liotta's potential girlfriend, thrown at him by his mother. She's lonely, but Nelson gives the character a comedic spin, so she doesn't seem too pathetic. At first, I didn't think a relationship between Liotta and Goldberg would work on screen, but Nelson builds to it so gradually and interestingly (some nice scenes depicted from Majorino's point of view) that it works. Unfortunately, when Nelson deals with the attendant bigotry of the time, from both sides of the relationship, the movie falls flat and becomes forced. We expect the prejudice to crop up earlier and more strongly, and when it finally rears its ugly head, it's no more threatening than a Klansman in a paisley sheet. RATING: $$ Lights Out Copyright (c) 1994, Bruce Diamond All rights reserved ÚÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄ¿ ³ THE LITTLE RASCALS: Penelope Spheeris, director. Paul ³ ³ Guay & Stephen Mazur & Penelope Spheeris, screenplay. ³ ³ Starring Bug Hall, Brittany Ashton Holmes, Travis Ted- ³ ³ ford, Kevin Jamal Woods, Jordan Warkol, Zachary Mabry, ³ ³ Ross Elliot Bagley, Courtland Mead, and Sam Saletta. ³ ³ With cameos by Mel Brooks, Darryl Hannah, Reba McEntire, ³ ³ the Olsen twins, Lea Thompson, Donald Trump, George ³ ³ Wendt, Raven-Simone and Whoopi Goldberg as Buckwheat's ³ ³ Mom. Universal. Rated PG. ³ ÀÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÙ Lo, I have been to the wasteland, my friends, and I have seen the devil's work. Harken to me now as I tell you a tale an' will chill your blains and set your knees to knockin'. There were matinees abroad in the land in those days, a temptation to adult and child, an idol to the heathen god of entertainment. And Hollywood created the serial and the short subject, and the audience looked upon them, and they were good. At the very least, they were entertaining. At the very, very least, they killed time before the feature attraction. And the short subject begat cartoons, and cartoons begat cliffhangers, and cliffhangers begat action serials, and action serials begat children's serials, and children's serials begat "Our Gang," and "Our Gang" begat Alfalfa, Spanky, Darla, Stymie, Porky, and Buckwheat. And the children looked upon them, and they were otay! And movies begat radio (kinda sorta), and radio begat television (sorta kinda), and television became the devourer of material and the babysitter of children. "Our Gang" became "The Little Rascals," and lo, the message was brought unto a new generation, and the message was otay! And successful television series begat motion picture remakes. STAR TREK begat STAR TREK: THE MOTION PICTURE. And STAR TREK: THE MOTION PICTURE begat THE ADDAMS FAMILY. And THE ADDAMS FAMILY begat THE FUGITIVE and THE FUGITIVE begat THE BEVERLY HILLBILLIES and THE BEVERLY HILLBILLIES begat THE FLINT- STONES and THE FLINTSTONES begat THE LITTLE RASCALS. And the cycle was complete, and the audience looked upon it, and it was not otay. In fact, it stunk to high heaven. THE LITTLE RASCALS has to be the worst-directed movie I've seen this year, and in a summer that includes NORTH and COLOR OF NIGHT, that's saying something. I've long suspected that director Penelope Spheeris wasn't an actor's director, and this picture proves it. Mugging kids, misdirected gazes, an inconsistent mix of over-reacting and non-reaction . . . the children are constantly distracted, unable to focus on who they're talking to or what they're supposed to be working on. Spheeris works better with experienced actors (i.e., Mike Myers and Dana Carvey in WAYNE'S WORLD, 1992), but even then she can't rein in the mugging and broad acting styles. Something seems to happen to Spheeris once she sits in the director's chair; she loses all sense of control and proportion. In the current project, she indulges her entire "kids is cute" repertoire, employing extreme close ups until Darla's darling pudgy face fills the screen or Alfalfa's endearing cowlick hits the top of the frame. Had any of these kids the comic timing or double-take ability of the original cast, they'd manage to redeem the use of Spheeris' lingering and intrusive camera. The camera isn't an observer of the Rascals' adventures -- it's an unwilling and unwitting partner in their nefarious activities. Labeling THE LITTLE RASCALS sexist or racist is silly -- little boys and little girls frequently don't like each other, and this time both Stymie and Buckwheat are more positive role models than the originals. No, THE LITTLE RASCALS' primary problem isn't PC-related. It's the other aspects of the movie serials that Spheeris slavishly sticks to that sinks the story- line and the picture's entertainment value. She repeatedly uses rapid motion to convey comedy, whether it's Keystone Kops-like chases or group scenes like building a new race car. This visual gag is old hat and doesn't pull laughs from today's audiences (at least not from the audience in the screening I attended). The He-Man Womun Haters Club, Alfalfa's romance with Darla (actually one of the sweeter aspects of this movie), Alfalfa's singing and his incident with soap bubbles are all things we've seen before, and don't bear repeating. And the costuming, gadzooks! THE LITTLE RASCALS is set in today's Los Angeles, but the kids dress as though they stepped right out of the '40s. They own no modern toys (aside from the race car, and even it seems dated), they don't reference today's pop culture (comics, movies, TV), and they don't interact with modern technology in any way. It's as though the children live in their own world, a time warp bubble set in the California hills. What at first seems cute becomes weirder and more divorced from reality as the movie progresses. Spheeris also displays a shocking lack of continuity. She had her hands full concentrating on the childrens' performances, as the end-of-movie outtakes show (and even then she botched her job), but surely she had a responsible continuity person who made sure that scenes matched from take to take. These gaffes are incredibly easy to spot and don't take a special eye at all. It becomes something of a game with some movies to see how many mistakes you can spot. With THE LITTLE RASCALS, you'll find so many bloopers (moving scenery before kids arrive to move it, reappearing items after the prop has been removed from a scene, the race car being rebuilt in a cockeyed order, and a spilled pickle jar that apparently had no effect on Porky and Buckwheat) that it's no fun looking for them after the first twenty minutes. THE LITTLE RASCALS is a poor excuse for a movie, and should have been shelved or released straight to video to save the embarrassment of the big screen. How Spheeris managed to snag so many recognizable stars for cameos escapes me, especially considering her movie track record, her most recent stinker being THE BEVERLY HILLBILLIES (1993). RATING: 0 Lights Out Copyright (c) 1994, Bruce Diamond All rights reserved ÚÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄ¿ ³ AIRHEADS: Richard Lehmann, director. Rich Wilkes, ³ ³ screenplay. Starring Brendan Fraser, Steve Buscemi, ³ ³ Adam Sandler, Chris Farley, Michael McKean, Judd Nel- ³ ³ son, Michael Richards, Nina Siemaszko, Ernie Hudson, ³ ³ Amy Locane, and Joe Mantegna. Twentieth Century Fox. ³ ³ Rated PG-13. ³ ÀÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÙ They're crazy, they're wacky, they're rock-n-rollers with Uzis. Sure, the Uzis are really water guns filled with pepper spray, but the members of an unknown band, The Lone Rangers (how can there be more than one if you're "lone"?), do pull a wild-n- crazy stunt with them. They hold up a radio station just to get their demo played on the air. Every record company in town and several nightclubs have slammed the doors on this band, so hijacking the airwaves seems to make sense. Only to the band, of course. Imagine Bill & Ted partnered with Pauly Shore. Imagine the band from PCU (released earlier this year) actually getting air- play. Imagine Weird Al Yankovic's music video parody of Nirvana being expanded to two hours. Slice all of that sideways and serve it up as baloney, because that's what AIRHEADS, directed by Michael Lehmann, is made of: a silly, non-vital view of today's music scene. Brendan Fraser, Steve Buscemi and Adam Sandler star as the Gen X grunge-punk-post-wave rockers, and though the movie features fine work from such solid supporting cast members as Joe Mantegna, Ernie Hudson, Michael McKean, and Amy Locane, among others, the script wimps out by failing to really name names or expose specific industry practices. To be a vital commentary on the contemporary scene, AIRHEADS' basic message should be more than, "It's really hard to break into the business." Well, duh. Let me write that down. AIRHEADS for the most part is fun, watching three brain-dead dudes turn a simple bluff into a full-blown hostage situation with an army of cops, hordes of groupies, a SWAT team and real guns. The situation goes from bad to worse, and it's obvious, painfully obvious, that these idiots hadn't thought things through. Heck, to expect them to think in the first place is asking too much. Director Michael Lehmann (HEATHERS, 1988) and screenwriter Rich Wilkes actually are asking us to identify with them, mistakenly portraying them as poor, downtrodden minimum- wage bums who just want a break. Well, I'm sorry, but equating three goofs to heroes and giving them a happy ending kinda takes the edge off this movie. It's part of the whole "getting what you deserve" philosophy that Lehmann danced with in HEATHERS but only flirts with here. He wants to have it both ways, to criticize the industry and yet resolve AIRHEADS' dramatic dilemma with a Cinderella success story. Face facts: these guys aren't smart enough to handle the fame they want, which is shown every- time they open their mouths, by their actions at the radio station, and by their reactions when a real gun falls into their hands. One moment Chazz (Fraser) is standing by his ideals -- winning a record contract by the merit of their talents, not through the freak show cult of celebrity that's sprung up about them -- and the next moment he compromises just so his music can be heard. The end becomes important, to hell with the moral implications of the means. Most of this film is lip service to rock and roll ideals, to personal integrity, and to defying authority. In the end, AIRHEADS plays it just as safe as any Michael Bolton record. I'm very disappointed that the first important movie to address '90s music doesn't have the *huevos* to follow up on its promise. The music, and the supporting performances (especially the standout Mantegna as an aging rock-n-roll DJ, the only real bite to the movie) aren't enough of a backbone to prop the rest of the film on. RATING: $$ Music Review Copyright (c) 1994, Andee SoRelle All rights reserved FUMBLING TOWARDS ECSTASY Sarah McLachlan Arista Records I hear the CD dropped and sense the laser hitting its surface. In seconds, I hear the strains of dark, compelling music. This first of a dozen songs is the single "Possession." It begins this journey with Ms. McLachlan through her world of relationships. She sings "I won't be denied" and I believe her as I sing along and know that this melody will haunt my dreams. The songs of this CD are all about relationships. Dark, deadly, dysfunctional, confusing, desirous, miserable, foolish, losing, silly, whimsical, and fearful tales of love that are relinquished, reviled and revisited again and again. Sarah's soaring vocals push and pull us through the dark forest of her melodies and her stories of love. The song "Wait" plays and I feel ready for fall, wrapped in a warm blanket watching leaves skitter by out the window. McLachlan's words bring a chill and a desire to search for warmth. She respects love til her "dying day" and you believe her. In "Elsewhere," she sings "this is heaven to no one else but me," and you want to know why she is so willing to wait, linger and cling to something or someone who will only take what he can get. In some songs, the relationship is let go, but missed. In others, the lover has "so much to lose." In the title track, Sarah sings "I won't fear love." Perhaps that is the driving force behind this CD; that McLachlan doesn't fear love but wants to examine, inspect and divine the power behind it. Even in silly songs like "Ice Cream," I heard a singer/songwriter exploring another aspect of this thing called love. For all fans of well-crafted, thoughtful, beautiful music I recommend this CD. I know I can listen to it repeatedly. However, if you prefer loud, jarring tunes with obnoxious lyrics this isn't the album for you. Ms. McLachlan has delivered intelligent music as she fumbled towards ecstasy. My score, on a scale of one to ten: 9 Music Review Copyright (c) 1994, Thomas Van Hook All rights reserved Blackest Sabbath -- Black Sabbath 1970-1987 by Black Sabbath Phonogram Records CD 838818-2 Copyright 1989 Koln, Germany Track Listing 1. Black Sabbath -- From the album "Black Sabbath" (1970) 2. Paranoid -- From the album "Paranoid" (1970) 3. Iron Man -- From the album "Paranoid" (1970) 4. Snowblind -- From the album "Black Sabbath Volume 4" (1972) 5. Sabbath Bloody Sabbath -- From the album "Sabbath Bloody Sabbath" (1973) 6. Hole In The Sky -- From the album "Sabotage" (1975) 7. Rock & Roll Doctor -- From the album "Technical Ecstacy" (1976) 8. Never Say Die -- From the album "Never Say Die" (1977) 9. Lady Evil -- From the album "Heaven And Hell" (1980) 10. Turn Up The Night -- From the album "Mob Rules" (1981) 11. The Sign of the Southern Cross/Heaven And Hell [Live] -- From the album "Live Evil" (1983) 12. Children of the Sea [Live] -- From the album "Live Evil" (1983) 13. Digital Bitch -- From the album "Born Again" (1983) 14. Seventh Star -- From the album "Black Sabbath Featuring Tony Iommi" (1986) 15. Born To Lose -- From the album "The Eternal Idol" (1987) In today's culture, things change at light-speed with a certain regularity. After all, what may have been "in" this morning, might not be "in" by the end of lunch. And so it goes with rock and roll. Bands come and go with the changing popular attitudes. Very few hang on to the very end of the last member's career. Black Sabbath, however, is one of those bands. With a career that now spans over three decades, they have proven themselves to be the most influential of all the "doom and gloom" bands. With only two former members selling their own solo projects (Ozzy Osbourne and Ronnie James Dio), Black Sabbath has never been a launching-pad for the careers of others. Instead, guitarist Tony Iommi has carved a niche for the band in the annals of Heavy Metal. This particular Compact Disc might be a little hard to find in the United States, as it is a "Greatest Hits" compilation made and sold in Germany. I was lucky enough to get a copy of it while I was stationed overseas at Sembach Air Base. Included with the tracks is a sleeve that chronicles the band's history and the various lineups that the band has had. I highly recommend this album for anyone who is a Black Sabbath fan and would love to have the complete history of Black Sabbath (at least the history up until early 1989. The material is culled from every point in the band's career with the exception of one album -- "Master Of Reality," released in 1971. It would have been nice if a track from that album had been added. Regardless, this album has all of Sabbath's best hits and makes for a very good introduction for the new fan that hasn't heard all of Sabbath's material. With such Sabbath standards as Iron Man, and Paranoid, the album covers the usual ground one would expect. Unexpected pieces of material for this compilation are the two "live" tracks from the album "Live Evil," which was a tremendous flop for the band in sales. Outstanding Track -- Born To Lose Lackluster Track -- Rock & Roll Doctor Overall Grade -- B+ Black Sabbath Lineup Lead Vocalists -- Ozzy Osbourne, Ronnie James Dio, Ian Gillan, Glenn Hughes, Tony Martin Guitarist -- Tony Iommi Bass Guitarists -- Geezer Butler, Dave Spitz Drummers -- Bill Ward, Vinnie Appice, Bev Bevan, Eric Singer Keyboardist -- Geoff Nichols Music Review Copyright (c) 1994, Thomas Van Hook All rights reserved Parallel Dreams by Loreena McKennitt Quinlan Road Limited QRCD 103 Copyright 1989 Stratford, Ontario Canada Track Listing 1. Samain Night 2. Moon Cradle 3. Huron 'Beltane' Fire Dance 4. Annachie Gordon 5. Standing Stones 6. Dickens' Dublin (The Palace) 7. Breaking The Silence 8. Ancient Pines "Beyond the transportation into fantasy, dreams have served as a vehicle through which we have integrated our conscious and subconcious, the real and the surreal, the powerful and the intangible. The dreams found in this recording span a wide range from the contemporary to the historical as in the Romeo and Juliet story of Jeannie and her lover in "Annachie Gordon"; the singular as in the little Dublin street girl who dreams of having a home; to the plural in those who who dream of freedom as reflected in "Breaking The Silence"; or the earth's yearning for release from the oppression of the human hand in "Ancient Pines." In the "Huron 'Beltane' Fire Dance" I have tried to recall the reverence for dreams of the North American first peoples and the early Celts. If there is a recurrent thread which runs through these dreams it is one of yearning toward love, liberty and integration. Of all the variations of dreams we may have, these surely are our parallel dreams. --L.M." (1) I first heard of Loreena McKennitt when I visited Dallas during the Christmas of 1993. I had just come back from Germany with my wife (now my ex-wife) and my son Corey for his first Christmas. Wanting to renew some of the friendships that I had lost touch with over the past two years, I had asked Tamara (STTS House-Poet) to arrange some "get-togethers" with our mutual friends. One of these "meetings" was with our illustrious editor, Joe DeRouen, and his wife Heather. During that night, Joe continually pumped CDs into his stereo system as we all caught up on the gossip. One CD featured a glorious feminine voice floating over some of the most exquisite music I had ever heard. I asked who the artist was and was told it was Miss McKennitt. From that moment on, I was hooked. This is one of the prized CDs in my collection. Not a single track keeps my heart from being stirred, awakening deep within my soul the dreams that I have pushed further and further away. If there were a soundtrack to my soul...this is it. If you love Celtic-style music...you cannot afford to not have this artist in your collection. If you enjoy music along the vein of Andreas Vollenweider and Yanni, you will more than likely fall in love with this artist as well. Being that she is still not very well known as an artist (her latest album was released on Warner Brothers with zero publicity), it will be through mediums such as this that she will gain her fame. In my opinion, she is one of the best artists of her genre. Give her CD a spin in your deck and see if you don't agree. (1) Taken from the liner notes to the Compact Disc Outstanding Track -- Standing Stones Lackluster Track -- You have got to be kidding!!! Grade -- A+ Book Reviews Copyright (c) 1994, Thomas Van Hook All rights reserved Chrome Circle by Mercedes Lackey and Larry Dixon Baen Books, August 1994 Cover Art by Barclay Shaw End Piece by Larry Dixon ISBN 0-671-87615-5 For the past few years, Mercedes Lackey has enjoyed a loyal following of readers that has steadily grown. The immense popularity of her various book series (The Heralds of Valdemar, The Last Herald-Mage, The Mage Winds, Diana Tregarde Investigations) have recieved critical acclaim from many corners of the SF/F (Science Fiction/Fantasy) realm. Her characters have been right on the money, while her storylines sensitive, funny and somewhat believable. Once again, she is totally on target with "Chrome Circle," her latest offering in the SERRAted Edge series. These books are based around a group of Elves and humans in Georgia and some of the mis/adventures that they have along the way. The Elves are interested in stock car racing and build their own vehicles using magick and a bit of technological wizardry (that's where the humans come in). The stock car racing makes for a nice distraction from tense situations in the storylines, but it still seems odd to me that Elves would be interested in human gadgetry. After all, this Elf is particularly interested in fun, music and women -- but that is beside the point (sigh). The story follows one of the human mages named Tannim on his trip to visit his folks in Tulsa, Oklahoma (Yessir! People actually DO LIVE in Oklahoma!!). He gets visited by the lady of his dreams (literally), and she challenges him to a duel. From here, the plot twists and turns like a roller-coaster, with some quite preditable endings and some really shocking ones. While Miss Lackey included several very funny scenes there is one thing missing that is usually prevelant in her novels: Emotion. The story never really tugs at your heart-strings like her "Last Herald Mage" or "Mage Winds" series do. She never really gets you to "fall in love" with Tannim or Shar (Tannim's love interest). Art-wise, Barclay Shaw's cover-work is quite misleading. Shar is never described in the manner that she is depicted on the cover. The dragon Charcoal looks more like a maniacal horse with wings. Larry Dixon's end-piece is obviously his attempt to put the drawing in a better light. His end-piece is not as well-done as Shaw's -- and once again Charcoal looks like a horse with an Ozzy Osbourne attitude! Big failure on both these artists' part. All in all, "Chrome Circle" is much more enjoyable than most novels that I have read. Being a big Mercedes Lackey fan, I enjoyed reading yet another story in the SERRAted Edge series. I am dissappointed at the missing emotional elements from the book, but I do recommend it to anyone looking for a "fun" read. Overall Grade: B- Cover Art Grade: D End-Piece Grade: F ÜÜÜÜÜÜÜÜ ÜÜÜÜÜÜÜ ÜÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÜ ÜÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÜ "Bringing our software to your home" ÄÄÄÄÄÄÛÛÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÜÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÛÛÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄ ßßßßßßÛÛßßßßßßßÛßßßßßßßßßÛÛßßßßßßßßßßßßßßßßßßßßßßßßßßßßßßßßßßßßßßßßßßßßßßßßßßß ÍÍÍÍÍÍÛÛÍÍÍÍÍßÛÛÛßÍÍÍÜÛÍÍÛÛÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍ ÛÛ Û ÛÛÜÜÛÛ (717)325-9481 14.4 ßÛ ßÛÛÛÛß 2 NODES ÜÜÜÜÜÜÜ ÜÜÜÜÜ ÜÜÜÜ ÜÜÜÜÜÜ Ü Ü ÜÜÜÜÜ ÜÜÜÜ ÜÜÜÜ ÜÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÜ ÜÛÛÛÛÛÜ ÜÛÛÛÛÜ ÜÛÛÛÛÛÛÜ ÜÛ ÜÛ ÜÛÛÛÛÛÜ ÜÛÛÛÛÜ ÜÛÛÛÛÜ ÍÍÛÛÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÛÛÍÍÍÛÛÍÍÛÛÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÛÛÍÍÍÍÍÛÛÍÍÍÍÛÛÍÍÛÛÍÍÍÛÛÍÍÛÛÍÍÛÛÍÍÍÛÛÍÍÍÍÍÍÍ ÜÜÛÛÜÜÜÜÜÜÜÜÜÛÛÜÜÜÛÛÜÜÛÛÜÜÜÜÜÜÜÜÜÛÛÜÜÜÜÜÛÛÜÜÜÜÛÛÜÜÛÛÜÜÜÛÛÜÜÛÛÜÜÛÛÜÜÜÛÛÜÜÜÜÜÜÜ ÄÄßÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÜÄÄÛÛÄÄÄÛÛÄÄÛÛÛÛÜÄÄÄÄÄÄÛÛÄÄÄÄÄÛÛÄÜÜÄÛÛÄÄÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÄÄÛÛÛÛÛÛÄÄÄÛÛÛÜÄÄÄÄÄ ÛÛ ÛÛ ÛÛ ÛÛ ÛÛ ÛÛ ÛÛ ÛÛ ÛÛ ÛÛ ÛÛ ÛÛÜ ÛÛ ÜÜÜÜÜÜÜÛÛ ÛÛÜÜÜÛÛ ÛÛ ÛÛ ÛÛÜÛÛÜÛÛ ÛÛ ÛÛ ÛÛ ÛÛÜ ÛÛÜÜÜÜ ßÛÛÛÛÛÛÛß ßÛÛÛÛÛß ßÛ ßÛ ßÛÛÛÛß ßÛ ßÛ ßÛ ßÛ ßÛÛÛÛß Prize Vault Lemonade Scramble Dollarmania ANSI Voting Booth Studs! Studette BadUser Convince! OnLine! GoodUser T&J Lotto T&JStat TJTop30 Environmental QT Video Poker Announce Bordello! Money Market Bordello T&J Raffle RIP Lemonade AgeCheck Strip Poker RIP Voting Booth ...and more coming! The Powers That Be Copyright (c) 1994, L. Shawn Aiken All rights reserved The Powers That Be by L. Shawn Aiken I had a dream. I wrote it down. And here it is. Two glowing eyes stared at Arthur from the interstate. His heart thumped. The eyes raced by, showing a dark figure surrounded by a darker pool. A cat. A dead cat. The pain in Arthur's gut wavered, swaying back and forth from a dull, numb sensation to a jabbing, poking explosion waiting to happen. Should he pull over here? No. Too close to the cat. He would find an exit. The darkened highway stretched out before him. The feeble headlights showed little of what was up ahead except glowing white markers zipping under him. The rear view mirror showed him the opposite view, smothered in a red haze. Then orange, luminous markers to the side of the road showed him the exit. He took it. The conference in Little Rock had gone well. For some, at least. How was Arthur to know that Mike Moorehead would be there? Eleven years after graduation and Moorehead still remembered Arthur by the nickname "Table". And Moorehead made sure that everyone at the conference called him that. Perhaps the name Arthur Roundtree lent itself to ridicule, but no more than "Moorehead." Did Arthur even once call his high school acquaintance by his old nickname? No. It would have been rude. They were professionals now. Arthur peered through the windshield. He had hoped the road would lead him to a service station or a rest stop or something. Some sign of civilization at least. But no. Nothing. Just a dirt road and pine trees. A murky fog was rolling in from somewhere, probably the foothills nearby. Arthur sighed. He would just have to relieve himself out in the open. Light poured from above as he pulled the handle on the door. Arthur noticed all of the rubbish in the passenger side of the floorboard. Bits of paper and countless little hypodermic needles with orange plungers. He shook his head and smiled. He would have to get onto Mary about that. Arthur needed his cigarettes as much as she needed her insulin, but he didn't make unholy messes all over the place. A glance at the over-stuffed ashtray caused him to smile and eat his words. He then noticed that musty ash smell that permeated the car. Arthur loosened his belt and stepped outside. A tingling void filled his gut as he slid back into his seat. The night air was uncomfortably cold, but the relief he felt more than made up for it. He started the car and drove on. "Damn Moorehead," he said to himself. The more he thought of the ferret-like little man, the angrier he got. It was like Moorehead was playing some game with him - a game Arthur had never seen the rules to. And who would have guessed Moorehead would have gone into the newspaper industry? He had always been interested in stupid things, like football. Most of the people at the convention talked about sports. Especially the baseball strike that was paralyzing the major leagues at the moment. But Arthur didn't know much about it, nor did he care. It did keep him out of quite a few conversations, though. Arthur mushed the cigarette dangling from his lips into the glowing lighter. As he pulled it away, glowing flecks of tobacco stuck to the red hot swirls of metal. He took a puff and looked out into the gravely road lit poorly by his headlights. He should have gotten back to the interstate by now. Had he taken the wrong turn? The road abruptly ended in a barbed wire fence that initiated a sharp downhill slope. He peered beyond it and thought he saw the sparkle of water. "Great," he yanked the gear shift into reverse. The headlights died and the engine went silent. He sat motionlessly in the dark for a few seconds, then tried the ignition. Nothing. No grinding. Not even a failed turnover. He tried again. Still nothing. "Crap," he slammed the steering wheel and reached over to the glove compartment. It snapped open and he felt around. Just as he thought. No flashlight. He grudgingly stepped out of the car into the cold night air. At least this time he wouldn't have to expose his privates to it. Darkness enveloped him. He could not see his hands, much less the ground. But there was some light. The grey fog seemed to glow with a brilliance all its own. The moon, he surmised, but did not remember seeing it on the highway. Arthur had seen nothing the way he had come in. The fence had to have been built by someone. Most likely there was a house somewhere nearby. He grinned to himself, picturing the house's residents as clones of the little in-bred banjo player in Deliverance. He stopped grinning, remembering the scene with Ned Beatty and the squealing. Why had Mary drug him all the way up to the foothills of the Ozarks to live? It was definitely not his element. He preferred big cities, like New York or Los Angeles. Places where you could get whatever you needed, any time you needed it. Mary agreed with him, saying that you could get shot anytime you needed to as well. "Our kids will be safer back home," she had told him. "They will be closer to Aunt Jacene and Uncle Roy. They will have kids to play with, and we won't have to worry about drugs or anything." That was before her episodes that had made her barren. That argument had never affected his decision anyway. Arthur always had felt that kids should be exposed to the real world so they know how to deal with it. The real reason was perhaps a bit more selfish. "And daddy will give you any job you want at the paper," she had smiled at him with that mischievous, 'I win the argument' glint in her eye. "He will even make you editor, if that's what you want." That had settled it. Of course, he had never planned to spend the rest of his life in Arkansas. He saw the job as merely temporary. A place to get experience at, then move on to bigger and better things. But Mary's heart attacks had derailed everything. He didn't blame her. He didn't blame anyone. At least until now, stuck out in the middle of nowhere with a broken car and the cold air seeping into his flimsy windbreaker. The obvious culprit was Moorehead. Arthur popped the hood on the Chevy. He had left the Mercedes with Mary in case she needed reliable transport. And it had the car phone in it, just in case she needed it. He preferred the Nova anyway. It was were he had lost his virginity to Mary. She had lost hers somewhere else. Mary would sometimes jokingly say that she had lost it on a trampoline. He dug the lighter from out of the pocket of the windbreaker as he lifted the hood. There was a sharp smell of gasoline. The lighter played nervously in his hands. He better not. The last thing he needed was an exploding car to warm the night air. The hood slammed down and he peered out at the fog. It glowed all around, interrupted by the straight, dark trunks of the pine trees. No signs of any habitation. Arthur was sure that the fence meant something. Someone had to live nearby. If he could follow it to a gate or something. Arthur reached out towards the fence, then remembered it was barbed. He then knelt and felt the ground. There. Something rough. A stick. He gripped it. Not too long. He smiled and yawned at the same time, almost pulling a facial muscle he did not know he had. He tapped the stick against the gate. A clanky - twang sound came from it. Good. This would help guide him in the dark. Arthur took a step, then hit the fence. He took another, and hit the fence again. It was working. A yawn broke forth from his again. It was late. He was tired. The conference would not officially end until the morning, but Arthur had felt a strange urge to come home. Speaking with Mary on the phone to make sure she was all right had not quenched his urge. Moorehead was probably the real reason, but he didn't want to think about it. He stumbled on a root, then decided he should walk with another stick tapping the ground. No. One hand had to be kept in his pocket or he would feel he was freezing to death. The one stick could do both. A clang - twang against the fence, a thump against the ground. The glowing mist seemed to be closing in on all sides. Slowly, oozing about. It had no real form, but Arthur imagined it as a giant bed sheet wrapped around him. Or perhaps thousand of Ku Klux Klan members marching towards him. That thought sent the small bit of Jewish blood in him racing through his veins, trying to go deeper and deeper in his body. Trying to run away. He smiled as he shut his eyes and imagined himself machine-gunning people with pillows on their heads. Their leader was a man named Moorehead, and he got more bullets that the rest. Several minutes seeped by and Arthur realized something was missing. He looked around. The mist was still there. The dark trees were still there. But something was missing. Something important. He shrugged and continued on, thumping away at the ground. That was it! His heart pounded louder than the thumping. The clang - twang was gone. He reached out with the stick. Nothing. He stood motionless, trying to fight the urge to run. The random roots would surely trip him, sending him headlong into a tree trunk. But he couldn't hold back. He ran. The stick waved quickly in front of him. Nothing. No noise. The fence was gone! He kept running. Perhaps he was going the wrong way! He turned and ran in another direction. Then in another. By the time the stitch in his side came, he had no idea where he was. But he saw something! A light. No. Not a light. It was a building. Glowing. It looked like it was lit by the fog. Or maybe the fog was lit by the building. He walked quickly towards it, ignoring the sharp pin in his abdomen. The building grew clearer as he approached it. His first impression was that it looked like the Alamo in San Antonio. Only build of grey rock. But that wasn't the right shape. It seemed more like a Gothic cathedral without spires. But that wasn't right either. Perhaps some other type of structure. A castle? No. I was a movie theater! A grey stoned Gothic movie theater? Was there such a thing? He crept toward it slowly, the stick clenched in his hand. A golden glow was emanating from inside, shining out through glass doors. Arthur took his stick and tapped the stone steps leading up to it. They were real. Inside he could see a glass counter, filled with candy and popcorn. But he could not see anyone inside. There was no ticket booth. Arthur went up the steps and tapped the door. It swung open. What was this? Arthur's mind tried to pierce through the cold that had seeped into his mind and find some explanation. He yawned. There was no explanation there. With a deep breath of the cold night air, he stepped inside. The warm glow of the overhead lights seemed to heat his skin. It felt good. The smell of fresh popped popcorn tickled his nose. The popcorn machine was full to the brim of the fluffy stuff. "Hello?" he said. Nothing. "Hello!" he said louder. Still nothing. The carpet was clean. No little bits of wrapper. No brown spots of spilled cola. No popcorn shrapnel. "Hello?" he said again. Double doors beyond the counter had a sign above them: "NORWAY." "I don't remember that movie," he muttered to himself. Still no one had showed up. He walked silently to the doors. One was cracked open. A big blue screen stared back at him from beyond the seats of the movie theater. He looked back at the counter. No one. Should he go in? He had not even paid. Would they be angry if they found him in the theater without paying? He turned and looked through the glass doors to the darkness outside. It certainly was much more comfortable in here. Nice and warm. And it smelled good too. Should he get some popcorn? No. That would be stealing. But sitting in an empty movie theater? That would be okay. He opened the doors. The seats were all clean and nice. No tears. No rips. And that sickly smell of spilt cola was not present, even standing right next to the trash can. He walked down the slopped isle. He got to the middle and turned right. Then he counted off six seats, then sat down. His place. His place in any movie house. The seat was soft and comfortable. It was good to get the weight off of his feet. It would be nicer to put his feet up on back of the seat in front of him. But no, that would scuff it up. And maybe someone would come and tell him to put his feet down. Arthur closed his eyes and put his stick across the armrests. There was no one to complain about that here now. He smiled and leaned back. It got dark. Much darker than if he had just closed his eyes. He opened them again. The lights were off and the screen was no longer blue - but the glowing kind of black that movie screen get when film is rolling. He looked up. Light was coming from the projection booth. Somebody must was in there. "Hello?" Arthur said toward the booth. Nothing. He did it again. Still nothing. Perhaps it was automatic. Arthur shrugged his shoulders and looked back at the screen. "NORWAY," is said in big capital letters. The image was jumpy and there were audible clicks like in an audio-visual film at school. A majestic scene appeared. The walls of a glacier-plowed fjord towed over head. The view rose slowly up over the cliffs, showing a tree-studded plain filled with snow and purple mountains looming in the distance. "The beauties of Norway are at an arm's length with a simple visit to your local travel agent," said a thickly accented voice. Arthur blinked twice at the screen in amazement. What the hell was this? The announcer continued, and an more panoramic views of the country were shown. Huge, snow covered trees. Simple villages made up to look like ancient Viking holdings. And the amazing shopping opportunities located at easy to access locales in urban areas. Arthur shook his head, wondering what was going on. Then he saw it. Some one was standing behind a bush. Not a real bush, but a bush on the screen. The person was crouched behind it as if he were hiding. Before Arthur could get a good look, the scene changed. Pretend Vikings were on a pretend longboat, rowing away like mad. All except one. One was not in Viking garb. He was hiding behind the other Vikings. But he was there, all right. Arthur could see him. What was he up to? The screen changed again. Young blonde couples were skating on a frozen lake. The announcer described what joy they were having. But one was having no joy. One of the people on the lake was just standing there. He did not even have skates. He was looking. Staring. Staring at Arthur! The scene changed. Arthur's heart was pounding and both hands gripped the stick. He quickly scanned the scene. Was the person there? It was a zoo. Bears. There were lots of bears. And people were looking at the bears. All except one. One was staring at Arthur. He had the countenance of a ferret - little black eyes and a long nose. It almost twitched. His back was bent and his shoulders stuck out. It made him almost look like a vulture. Some strange genetic mutation of a ferret and a vulture. No humanity anywhere in the equation. "Moorehead!" Arthur gasped and held the stick tighter. What was going on here? Giggles erupted. Not the maniacal giggles he had expected. Girlish giggles. The scene changed. More girl giggles. He looked down at the front row. Three silhouettes were outlined against the screen. Arms were undulating from them, and hands that were making dogie shaped shadows. Suddenly one threw a handful of something at another. It sailed lightly through the air and showered down. It was popcorn. The other returned the blast, and more giggles ensued. Arthur breathed deeply. People. Perhaps they could explain what was going on. Just as he got up from his seat, on of the silhouettes stood up. It was the one that had stayed out of the popcorn fight. Arthur walked to the aisle and she met him there. Her skin was pale and her eyes were dark. She was far shorter than he was, but somehow she looked at him eye to eye. "Can you tell me where we are?" he asked, still gripping the stick. She pointed a finger at herself. "I am here," she said, then pointed at him. "And you are there. Duh!" Arthur breathed deeply. This was not going to be easy. "What is your name?" "Annakie, if it's all the same," she giggled. "Where is this place?" She sighed, "Norway. It's awful dull, isn't it?" "Why was that man up on the screen?" he demanded. She took a glance back. "I didn't see any man," she said. "But there was a man on the screen. A man that shouldn't have been there!" She shrugged. "You see what you want to see, don't you?" He stared at Annakie. "Come on. Let's go. I'm suppose to tell you something." "What?" "Not here," she shook here head. "Outside. Outside." What was the girl on about? "Okay," Arthur said, and turned around toward the double doors. "No no," she tugged at his hand. "Out the back way. The exit. Not the entrance. Down at the bottom of the theater. See?" Arthur looked to where Annakie was pointing. A red neon sign over a door. He nodded and they went down the aisle. The past the two other girls on the way out. "Who are they?" Arthur asked. "They're my friends, but they don't know it yet," she smiled and pushed the door open. They came out into a courtyard. Four building faced them on all sides. Large, gray, stone buildings. Gothic-like arches. Streaked with acid rain. Deteriorating. Crumbling in chunks. Beyond them were the silhouettes of slim pine trees and a gray mist coming from behind. The girl walked to the center of the courtyard. There was a monument. Or a obelisk. Or something. It was made of gray stone as well, and rectangular in shape. Not a wall, though. It was much too short. Perhaps only two feet high. Arthur followed her to it. Annakie turned to him. "There will be a meeting of the Powers soon." Arthur stared at her blankly. She pointed to her chest. "I'm a Power. See?" "Um . . . no," he shook his head slowly. "See!" she knelt down and pointed to the stone. There was a name on the wall. "Dexter Geis." It had a line drawn through it. Underneath was the name "Annakie Webber." There were other names on the stone, but Arthur could not read them. They were not in a foreign tongue. He just couldn't read them. "You are a power," Arthur looked at her. "No. A Power." He nodded slowly, still not knowing what the hell was going on. "And who told you to tell me this?" "That's not what I'm supposed to tell you. Hold your horses and I'll get to it," she stamped her foot. "I don't really remember who it was. I was asleep and I'm kind of new here and don't know everything that's going on." She looked up at him now, not eye to eye. "Okay," he smiled reassuringly. For some reason he was feeling sorry for her. He wanted to protect her. "So what are you supposed to tell me?" She breathed deeply. "The person that was the Power before me is an old man. You should go meet him at a baseball game." He nodded, still not understanding. "Okay. Is that it?" "That's it a-rooney!" she laughed. "So you will go see him?" "Uh . . . sure." "Good. I have to go wake up and pee." Arthur looked at the popcorn nestled in the white paper bag. It did not smell as good as the movie theater popcorn. The hot dog in his other hand was not right either. The hot dog itself was the wrong color and the wrong shape, the bun was all out of sorts, and the mustard failed to be yellow, but was a rather brown color. "Your inner light is quite radiant," said someone next to him. "Excuse me?" Arthur asked. "What's the hold up. Pass me my popcorn and hot dog." The man sitting next to him was an older man, greying hair, and was sporting the beginnings of a beer belly. Arthur passed him the food. His hands were all greasy now and he wiped them on his pants. He noticed the stick was in his lap. "GO CUBS!" the man next to him yelled. Arthur realized then that he was in the bleachers of a baseball stadium. People were out on the field standing around. "Do they ever move?" Arthur asked. "Why sure they do!" the old man laughed. "Someone has to hit the ball first." "Oh." Arthur looked around the stadium. It was filled with people. They were all screaming and making noise. But the players on field just stood there. "Are you Dexter?" "Dexter's the name, if it's all the same," he laughed. "Good. I think I'm supposed to meet you. I think. Everything is really strange and I don't understand any of it." "You are right there. Everything is really strange indeed," Dexter turned to Arthur. "It all went wrong somewhere." "What went all wrong? Where?" "Nothing has been the same since Roswell." "Roswell?" "Yeah. Roswell. But they weren't aliens. They were something else." "Not aliens," Arthur nodded as if that actually meant something to him. This was getting ridiculous. He looked out at the field. Someone was actually moving - running from one little white thing to another. "Wait a minute," Arthur glanced at Dexter. "I don't know much about baseball, but isn't there a strike going on? Isn't this the major leagues? This shouldn't be happening, should it?" Dexter looked at him with sad eyes and sighed. "Oh dear. I'm sorry." And then Dexter shrugged. His eyes flashed open at the glowing white dots as they rushed by. Arthur growled at himself in the darkness. He should not have fallen asleep. Especially not when he was driving. The pain in his . . . Arthur looked around. He didn't need to go to the bathroom. That was strange. Just a few moments ago he . . . Arthur took a deep breath. He passed another exit. He did not need to go, but he felt like he should have turned down it. Or, more correctly, he thought he already had. Strange images of a girl and an old man drifted in his head. They did not seem to fit anywhere. He shrugged his shoulders. He glanced down at the passenger seat. A stick lay in it. His heart gave one loud pound that rattled his eardrums. The stick. If the stick was true . . . Memories flooded back. Strange things. Things he could not explain, even though he spent the whole trip back home going over them in his mind. Arthur stretched his arms and his legs as far as they would go. The sheets were nice and soft and there was a large, warm mass next to him. He opened his eyes to the white, spackled ceiling and smiled. "Good morning," his wife turned over next to him. Her heart-shaped face gave him a sleepy smile. "Morning honey," he grinned and Mary kissed him. "Sorry to come in so late last night." "It wasn't that late," she sat up and laid her head on his chest. "It must have been very late," he shook his head and began to stroke her hair "No. I remember hearing you come in and I looked at the clock and it was 12:14 exactly." "Exactly," he chuckled. "If you were up, why didn't you say hello to me?" "I went to sleep. If I would have been awake when you got to bed we would have talked all night and you would have been late for work." "Don't be so sure that we would have just talked." Mary moved her head to look at him. "Why is there a stick on the night table?" she asked. Arthur's heart thumped. He looked at the night table. There was the stick. It was all there again. The movie house, the girl, the old man, and that creep Moorehead. He took a deep breath. "Uh . . . the Nova broke down just outside of town and I was trying to fix it and . . ." "You tried to fix the car with a piece of wood?" she sat up. "Yeah. Best thing to use. And it worked didn't it?" he grinned and sat up. "Can we play 'feel the pacemaker'?" She rolled her eyes and tried to hide a grin. "I suppose so . . ." "Good." he said and grabbed her right breast. "The pacemaker, as well as the heart, are on the other side," she rolled her eyes again. "Oh, sorry!" he grabbed the right breast with his other hand. Needless to say, he was late for work. That day at work was terrible. His father-in-law had not liked the idea of the conference from the start. "It's a God damned complete waste of time. Who in the hell cares what other God dammed editors do with their God damned rags. I have a business to run here and that don't include you gallivanting off to the big city!" Big city! Little Rock? Arthur wanted to educate old James Jayston on a few of the realities of life, but he though better of it. And Jayston ran the Searcy Gazetteer at a constant loss, anyway. It was just a big tax write-off to him. Why should he care about it? He didn't want it to make money. If it actually showed a profit he would loose money. The fifth screaming session of the morning sent Arthur stomping back into his cramped office. Mrs. Oglesvie, his secretary who was far too large to share the office with, handed him a yellow piece of paper. It had that sticky stuff on the back. He hated that stick stuff. It was of no use. It held the note to a surface for two seconds. After that it was just a mess that got your fingers nasty. He glanced over it. It read: "Arthur. Meet me at the Searcy Zeppelinport. Dex." Arthur reread the note. It still said the same thing. "Mrs. Oglesvie. What is this?" he asked. "A note," she said without looking at him. "It was stuck to the phone when I got back from my coffee break. Don't know who wrote it. No time or number or nothing." "That's okay." He sat down at his desk and stared at the note. Zeppelinport? What in the hell was that? An airport? They don't make zep . . . He cut himself off. He was not sure why, but he did. He stood up. "Mrs. Oglesvie, I'm going to the municipal airport." "Why?" she looked at him. "Has there been a crash? Should I tell Gary to go get his camera?" "Oh no. Nothing like that. I'm just . . . following a lead." "Oh." she turned away. "Could you pick me up some bear claw's as Sue's Bakery while you're gone?" The blue Nova struggled its way up the road. Arthur could see the control tower over the trees. Not a very tall tower, but it did it's job. Various antennae and dishes poked out on top of it, mostly instruments for NOAA. He passed several small hangers. Outside of them were various prop planes. Cessnas, Pipers, and Beechcrafts. Or Beechnut, as his wife called them. Nobody was around. At the end of the runway was a small shack. Something for utilities, perhaps. The Nova pulled up outside of it and Arthur stopped the car. He did not know why it was the shack. Perhaps it was supposed to be the shack. But he did not know for sure. But he wanted it to be the shack, if that meant anything. He stepped out and opened the flimsy wood door. There was Dexter with a pair of binoculars around his neck. "Ready to do some Zeppelin spotting today?" Arthur's mind raced with questions. But he forced them aside. "Sure." "I hear there is quite a crowd gathering to watch." Dexter walked out of the shack. "Where?" "Right there," Dexter pointed down the runway. Near the control tower a mass of people had gathered. Just outside the huge metal hanger. It must have been several hundred yard long. Arthur blinked several times, but it remained. "I . . ." "Here she comes!" he put the binoculars to his face. Arthur looked, but could see nothing. He glanced back at the crowd. Women were holding up parasols. Parasols? "Looky that! Here, use the binoculars." Dexter handed them to him. Arthur looked through them. Sky. Clouds. Trees. Zeppelin. Sky. Zeppelin? It was huge. It was very far away. But he could see it's shadow on one of the hills. A huge cigar shaped silver thing. And a big swastika on the back. "Nazis?" he turned to Dexter. "Nah. We don't call them that anymore," Dexter smiled. "Democratic socialists. You see, the Hindenburg was only a plot. Hitler had it blown up." "A plot? Hitler?" The zeppelin was getting closer. He could make it out with the naked eye now. "He saw that zeppelins could be a big threat to the Third Reich if other countries used them for troop and supply transport. So he had it blown up right on American soil, right in front of reporters and cameras. Scared the shit out of the American people. As soon as the war ended, Hitler started building them again." "War ended? Hitler?" "Yeah. After he won. You know." Dexter looked at him strangely. "Yeah," Arthur nodded slowly. "After he won." "Good," Dexter slapped him on the back. "Come on. This is a big day. It's not every day that a zeppelin comes to Searcy. We aren't on the main route. Let's go get some beer and sauerkraut. Das ist gut, ja?" Arthur's elementary German could handle that and he nodded. They made there way to several tables laden with food and drink. An oompah band was setting up outside of a hanger that housed commercial Messerschmidt prop planes. Dexter handed him a mug of beer. Arthur looked at him. "What's going on?" "A celebration! A party!" Dexter laughed, then his expression changed as he looked at Arthur. "Sorry, sometimes I loose myself in these things." "What things?" "Things, you know," Dexter waved his hands around. "Dexter, there is a Nazi zeppelin bearing down on my home town right at this very instant. I want to know what the hell is going on." Dexter smiled. "You've entered my universe. Just agree with me, and everything will go smoothly." "Universe?" Dexter took a swig of beer. "Okay. There are three universes. My universe. Your universe. Then everybody else's universe. You live in everybody else's universe. You barely get to see your own universe. But you are getting a chance to see mine. Neat, huh?" Arthur looked at the beer mug in his hand. It was still full. He could not have possibly gotten drunk yet. So why was he seeing zeppelins? "I see you don't understand. Okay. You have your universe. That's totally different than anybody else's universe. And everyone has their own universe. But then there is everybody else's universe. You see? It's a mesh of everybody's universes all put together. Kind of like a grand central station. It's where everybody meets. It's what people normally call reality." Somewhere inside of him it clicked, but not at any area near the surface of his consciousness. It had something to do with philosophy and religion, but this was something else. This was actually happening! "What has this got to do with anything?" Arthur cried. "What does this have to do with the movie house and the girl and what you said about Roswell?" "Oh, Roswell," Dexter took a sip of his beer. "That was my fault. Back when I was a kid I was living in the southwest. I had read H. G. Wells and stuff and really wanted there to be aliens. Martians. I wanted them so bad that it bled over into the real universe and aliens crash landed. Boy was the Council pissed." He took another sip of beer. "What do you mean? What council?" "The Council of Powers. They did their best to clean it up. Erased it from history and everything. But people don't forget things like that - even when they have been erased." "What Council? What are the Powers?" Arthur was getting desperate. He took a sip of beer. "The Council. Of Powers. I was a Power. Not back when Roswell happened, of course. But they saw that I had the Power and so they let me be a Power. I kind of messed up, though." Arthur scratched his head. "Messed up how?" "That whole World War Two thing," she sighed. "You mean the Nazi zeppelin?" "No," he smiled. "This is just for fun. I mean the real World War Two. The one you are familiar with. The one I messed up." Arthur shook his head. This was not getting anywhere. But maybe if he played along. "How did you mess it up?" "Well, your World War Two isn't the right one. You see, my father died during the Invasion of Japan. There was an Invasion of Japan, you know." "With the bombs?" "No. The nukes came after. No. They came before. Well, it depend on how you look at it. You see, they didn't have nukes back then." "They had two, didn't they?" "No. None. And they wouldn't have had any for another two hundred years. "Huh?" Dexter gulped half of his beer down. "You see, the Pacific theater was really nasty. It took years to finally conquer Japan and millions of men died. My father died in 1947 in the third wave. It wasn't until 1953 that Japan finally surrendered. Actually, they didn't surrender. There was just no one left to fight. Then the Americans and Russians started fighting over China. Then over Europe. World War Two didn't really ever end. Well, I guess it would have ended eventually." "You mean, in your universe," Arthur nodded. He was sure he was understanding it all now. "No. In the real universe. The one you live in. After I became a Power with the Seat of Time, I did a few things. A few very powerful things. Things that the Council wasn't even aware of. I went back in time and gave a fellow named Einstein what he needed to build a nuclear weapon. Just the idea, really. He figured it out for himself - and he never really knew that anyone had given him the information." "So wait a minute. The bomb was built. It didn't happen any other way." "Well, you see, my father died in the invasion. I wanted him back, so I fixed it so he would still be alive. The council didn't even catch on for a while. But when they figured it out, boy were they mad. That's why I got kicked out." Arthur looked at the Zeppelin. It was much closer. It was huge. The crowd was cheering. "I don't really understand." "I don't really either," Dexter finished his beer. "I get banished from reality and get locked in my own universe. I can only peek out under special circumstances." "Like what?" "Like with this deal with you. It's very hush hush. Only half the council is in on it." "What deal with me?" Arthur was at his wits end. But it had something to do with him. So perhaps he could understand it. "What I did was so big that it screwed up everything. Not even the Council could fix it without having to rework the fabric of the universe. Big. I didn't realize how big. And now everything is botched because of technology. Half the council wants to throw it out." "Throw out technology?" Arthur shook his head. Perhaps he would not understand this after all. "Yeah. Go back to the way it was originally. Magic. You know. Hocus Pocus? The Council is split fifty-fifty. Except for the Seat of Time." "Your seat?" "Not any more. The girl. Annakie. She has got it now. The way it is set up, half the Council is pro-magic, and half the Council is pro-technology. Annakie will make the deciding vote, and they already know she is a namby-pamby pro-magicer. Giving a little girl a seat. A little girl who loves unicorns and pegasi! Pah! Talk about tipping the scales of justice. She is real young, though. Real inexperienced. You have already seen how easy she can be manipulated." "How?" "She delivered the message to you herself," he laughed. "The message for her own demise." "Demise? What do you mean?" "You are going to kill her and take her place on the Council as the Power on the Seat of Time." Arthur dropped his mug. It crashed to the ground. Suddenly, darkness enveloped him. He looked up. The zeppelin was overhead. It was huge. One of the largest structures he had even seen. And it was floating above him. "What do you mean 'kill her?!'" he screamed over the oompah band's o ompahing. "Kill. A non-Power can kill a Power. You just find their body and kill it. And she has to be killed or technology will vanish. Where would your wife be without technology?" Arthur squeezed his eyes shut. The blood was pounding in his head. He refused to believe any of this was happening. The flimsy door to the shack swung open. A few fire extinguishers, some rope, and a trash can. Arthur peered inside. No one. He looked around. The sky was clear. A few birds overhead. High above the clouds there was a glint of metal. A plane. A military plane. He knew why it was here. The hills were littered with nuclear missile silos. The planes kept watch. Exactly what for, Arthur never knew. But no zeppelin. No oompah band. No ladies with parasols. No Dexter. And no command to kill a fourteen year old girl. He got into the Nova and drove away. His wife's sweet face came to his mind. And the pacemaker that kept her heart beating rhythmically. Without the unholy thing it would flutter and fail. Like it had done before. So many times before. And the girl's face came to his mind as well. Mrs. Oglesvie was upset that he had not returned with the bear claws so she left without notice. It would be just as well. Arthur would have time to think alone. He pulled a cigarette from his drawer and lit it. He loaded up his communications software into the computer. A mouse click here and a mouse click there connected him with the on-line service. The headlines stared back at him on the opening screen. It was the anniversary of the bombing of Hiroshima and a large protest had been held there. North Korea was ranting about nuclear inspections. And another sizable chunk of nuclear material had been seized in Germany. Destination unknown, but the source was Russia. Was all of it real? Really real? Or was it Dexter's dream imposed on everyone else to save his father. Or was Arthur going insane? He checked his mail box. It was crammed with electronic advertisements, a few of the newsletters that he subscribed to, and a rejection from an electronic magazine that he had sent a short story to. Arthur sighed and began flipping randomly through the system out of boredom while taking puffs on his cigarette. The on-line Omni had several interesting articles about Ufos. One was about the cover-up at Roswell. The dead alien bodies were stored somewhere in Northern California, and the surviving alien was teaching astrophysics at Berkeley. Normally he would have smiled at reading such a thing, but he could not find the motivation. He continued to randomly flip through menus and ended up at the User's Directory. He absent-mindedly typed in "Annakie Webber." The system sputtered a bit and shot the name back. There was an Annakie Webber. She lived in Sherman, Texas. And she liked horses and fantasy books and her favorite author was Marion Zimmer Bradley. The screen stared back at him for some time. She was real. And she liked fantasy. The chair seemed to swirl about, making him dizzy. Was it true? Or was he just in some alternate universe where he wanted it to be true? He stared at the name. He disagreed with it. He squinted his eyes and disagreed with it harder. But it was still there. It wasn't Dexter's doing. What if it was true? What if all technology would cease? What if the pacemaker in his wife's chest stopped? Perhaps he could talk to the girl. Change her mind. He glanced over her dossier and shook his head. It was firmly entrenched in fantasy. She seemed to spend all her time on the system doing something fantasy related. She even belong to some medieval group called the Society for Creative Anachronisms. He had heard of it. Strange people that dressed up in strange costumes who would go off and live in the woods in pavilions over the weekend. Not a good sign. But what happened if magic suddenly ruled the land. Perhaps magic could save his wife. But could it? Would Dexter would know? The computer beeped. A line was flashing. Someone on the network was requesting a chat. He accepted it. A window opened up. He looked at it. Nothing was being written on the other side. Several seconds later text began to show up. "Sorry about the delay," the screen said. "The moon is pretty far. Speed of light and all that." "Hello?" Arthur typed. "Who are you?" More delay. Then, "Dexter, of course." "Where are you?" he typed. " I told you. On the moon. Tranquility Facility, actually." "What?" "There you go again. Everything progressed quickly after the Russians landed at Mare Fecunditatus in 68'. We had to bust our asses to set up a base of our own. Luckily Grissom, Borman, and McDivitt made it there safely and set up the missile emplacements. God knows what would have happened if we had let it go unchallenged." Arthur stared at the screen. Somehow it appeared different. It was rounder - not square. And the label said "Atari", not "IBM" like it was supposed to. "Oh," he typed. "I want to ask you about . . . the magic." He took a puff on the cigarette. Something was wrong with it. It wasn't tobacco. It tasted like burning wood. And there was no nicotine in it. "What about the nasty stuff?" Dexeter's type appeared. "If the magic comes, can't the magic be used to fix the problems that happen when technology disappears?" He felt stupid for asking the question. The whole thing seemed stupid. Insane. "The Council of Powers already has the plan. Technology will cease to function. All computers will die. Radio won't work. Nothing above a simple pulley mechanism will survive. And then the magic will come in. Gradually, over a period of time, people will learn how to use it. Only those who know how to use it will gain any benefit. And since no one expects what will happen, no one can prepare. At midnight tonight, the world will end." Arthur blinked. Midnight. Not enough time. "Why can't you do something about it? You can control time," he typed. "Time may be an important factor to you, but it is only a minor concern to the Council. There are far more powerful things. I have no power in this matter. It is up to you." A tear welled up in his eye. Arthur refused to believe in it. It could not be. He banished Dexter. The computer beeped. A message flashed that someone on the computer network wanted to chat with him. He accepted. "Table man! I didn't know you were one this network," the screen blurted. Arthur's eyes widened. "Moorehead?" he typed slowly. "Yeah, it's wonderful me! We had a wonderful time without you at the conference. You were dragging everybody down." "Fuck off, Moorehead," he typed and yanked the plug out of the wall. His blood has boiling. His head was hot. A fever. He was sick. That would explain it. Something was in his lap. He looked down. There was the stick. Mrs. Oglesvie walked in the office holding a coffee mug and a white paper bag filled with bear claw's. They were warm and they filled the office with their sweet scent. Arthur breathed deeply and swiveled his chair toward her. "I need to find an address of someone living in Sherman, Texas," he said. She sat down and did not look at him. "The library has phone books from all over. Why not check there." She pulled out a bear claw and took a big bite. He swiveled his chair back to his desk. Like the screen of an old ATM monitor, fuzzy text appeared on the computer screen: "Table, Mary will die." It faded slowly away. The sun was setting right into his eyes. Arthur pulled down the sun shade but it did not help. Finally the interstate curved positioned the sun behind an eighteen wheeler. The address had taken an hour to find. His father-in-law had tracked him down to the library. Veins were bulging in his neck. Before the man could speak a work, Arthur told him to fuck off. That had shut him up. And perhaps it had cost Arthur his job as well. The address was on a little piece of paper on the dashboard in front of him. One of those nasty yellow things with the sticky crap on the back. It was the only thing he could find. He still could not think about it. He was going to some one horse town in Texas. For no real reason. Perhaps he would just look around. Then leave. Or maybe he would drive by the Webber house. The only Webbers who lived in Sherman. That was what he would do. Arthur glanced down at the passenger seat. There lay a hypodermic needle and a bottle of insulin. An overdose of insulin would kill a person dead. And it was very hard to trace. He had snuck the bottle from his wife's supply. She had enough for several months, at least. No, he was not going to Sherman for any reason. Just to drive around. Look at the sights. Then he would go home. He would do nothing. The needle was not one of those small kinds that Mary used. It had a big, wide chamber that could suck up the entire contents of the insulin bottle. The little ones wouldn't do the job. What was in Sherman, anyway? It was probably just like Searcy. Nothing. Nobody. Just people that time had left behind somewhere. But Dallas was nearby. Perhaps he could stop off at the Book Depository Building and look at the grassy knoll. Kennedy had been assassinated, hadn't he? Or course he had. This was the real world. Her mouth would be soft and warm when he clamped his hand over it and jabbed the needle into her neck. Would it take long? Would she scream? She would look into his eyes. Most definitely. She would look into his eyes. He pulled the car over onto the shoulder and jumped out of the car. He ran. He ran across the access road, jumped a fence, and ran out into a pasture. The land was flat. As far as the eye could see. A few clumps of trees dotted here and there, but that was about it. He stopped running and bent over, heaving. "Dexter!" he straightened up. "Dexter! I refuse to do this. Do you hear me! I refuse." A rabbit ran by him. Well, not quite a rabbit. Something like a rabbit. "Damn." Arthur hear something behind him. It was Arthur. In a loin cloth. Carrying a spear with a flint head. "I won't do it," Arthur crossed his arms. "My dinner just got away," Dexter panted and leaned on his spear. "The tribe will go hungry tonight." Arthur did not have time for this. "I don't have time for this." "Things haven't been the same since Kulet killed Og," Dexter looked at him and smiled. "Listen, I don't want to talk about this. I refuse to kill her. I'm not going to do it. Do you understand?" "Og was the one who thought of planting seeds. But Kulet killed him before he could tell anyone. Things just haven't gone smoothly for humanity since. Have they?" "Are you listening to me?" Arthur barked. "Without that one spark of brilliance, we never could get organized enough to even wipe out the mammoths," Dexter pointed to the horizon. Arthur saw large, dark shapes moving against it. Low, distant noises flittered through the wind to his ear. "What happens if I kill her? She will be dead. I will go to prison - and rightly so. I don't have even have a good excuse. Son of Sam had the dog tell him to do it. What do I have? Some old man with a beer belly dressed up in a loin cloth. And what will change if I don't? Nothing. Can you tell me of anything that will change if she lives?" "Do you really want to see?" Dexter eyed him. Dexter's blood chilled and he shivered. "Yes. Show me." They were outside of his house. The houses were scattered out at this distance from Searcy's center. Each house had a lot the size of an acre. And all filled with trees. Lots of thin, dark trunked, pine trees. The lights on the house were on and the Mercedes sat outside. Long ago the garage had been converted into a children's bedroom. A bedroom that they had never needed. "Look at your watch," Dexter told him. Arthur looked down and squeezed the light button. "Eleven fifty-nine. No. Twelve." The house went dark. A scream echoed throughout the house. Then silence. Bam-bam. His heart almost blasted out from his chest. He started running he couldn't think. He ran to the house. This couldn't be happening. It couldn't. It couldn't. He leapt over the fence and ran. Something caught his foot and he stumbled. Arthur looked back. It was the stick. It came into his hands and he walked back to the car. Sherman was different than he imagined. It was more spread out. It was filled with large plants. Big companies. He wondered if it was cheaper for them out here, away from the big city and less taxes. It was dark. He turned down a farm road. It was called a farm road, but he could not see any farms. Housing developments. A pasture of two. Then he drove by a large factory. It stank. It stank just like burned coffee. It was a coffee plant. He turned down a street. It could have been any street. In any suburb. Anywhere in America. Except maybe for the wagon wheel decorations on the lawn and the high flying Texas flags that flapped from every other house. There it was. He could not breath. The Webber house. Green with little wooden duckies on the lawn. And a curved driveway. He parked his car across the street from it grabbed for the insulin. The stick came to his hand instead. Arthur looked at it and closed his eyes. None of this is happening, the thought, and opened his eyes. He was still in Sherman. It was still night. He was still across the street from the Webber house. He snatched up the insulin and the needle and exited the car. The door he left open. No reason to make noise shutting it. The flicker of the street lamp gave him enough light to safely make it up to the house. The grass was wet on his shoes. He walked up to the front door. Stupid. Just knock on the door and ask for Annakie. Right. He shook his head and looked at the side of the house. It was dark. Everyone must be asleep. His legs began to tremble as he made his way around the windows. What was he doing? Perhaps he was here just to talk. He rolled the insulin bottle around in his hand. None of the window curtains were fully closed. He peered in one. W as that a couch he saw? A living room? The next was a small window. A dim light came from it. The kitchen. He could see the sink just below him and the counters. A light was coming from the refrigerator. It was one of those kinds that had a water and ice nook in the door. Papers were stuck on the front, but he could not see what was on them. But he could imagine. Cute little crayon drawings. A tear came and he wiped it on his sleeve. Between the side of the house and the side of the next door neighbor's house was another window. He peered in. It was dark. But he could see a sparkle on the wall. Was it glitter? It was paper. Paper and glitter. Rainbow glitter. In the shape of a unicorn. His chest tightened. He was just here to talk. The needle fell from his hand and he stooped to pick it up. The screen. It needed to be removed. He nervously stuck the insulin and needle into his windbreaker pocket and pulled out his keys. They jingled loudly. He stiffened so tight he thought he heard his spine crack. Still. Arthur stood motionless. Did she hear? Nothing happened. She must be still asleep. A cigarette would have calmed his nerves, but this was not the time. He took one of the keys and pried at the screen. It came off easily. Too easily. He had to catch it as it fell toward him. Then he carefully set it on the ground and looked at the window. Was it locked? A fourteen year old girl in a small town knows no fear. No real fear, at least to his mind. Annakie would not lock it. She had never had a reason to. She was a Power, after all. He stuck his fingernails at the bottom of the window and pulled up. It slid freely. Cool, air-conditioned air blew in his face. He closed his eyes. It was not happening. He opened them. The window was still there. He could hear breathing. Soft breathing. The window was difficult to climb through. He scraped his leg on the sill as his slid in and dragged himself down to the floor. The room slowly brightened as his eyes adjusted to the gloom. There was a smell of perfume. Not a woman's perfume, but girl's. Cherry or strawberry. A fruity smell. Perhaps lip gloss. He stood up. The wall were coved with posters. Unicorns. Dragons. Pegasi. All manner of magical beasts. There was a mirror dresser with little bottles on it. And pictures stuck to the mirror. People. Girls. He could not make them out, though. Then he turned to the bed. It was a canopied bed. Some light color. Perhaps pink, although he was not sure. And there she was. Sleeping on her back. An elaborate quilt over her. A huge pillow under her head. He almost dropped the insulin bottle as he fumbled with it, removing it from his pocket. He withdrew the hypo. She was breathing gently. Completely unaware. Stop! He screamed to himself. The cap came off the needle smoothly. Arthur inched closer to her. His heart has pounding, reverberating through his body. Mary had asked him to help with her insulin occasionally. Arthur always refused. He could never bear to poke her with a needle. He could not even bear to watch Mary inject herself. But she would do it in front of him anyway, despite his protests. He thrust the needle at the cap of the insulin bottle and missed, jabbing his thumb. Bone. He yanked it out and crammed his thumb in his mouth to keep from yelling. Blood. The coppery taste of blood filled his mouth. His legs began to shake and he stopped inching toward her. What would her parents say in the morning when they found her body? Was her life worth Mary's? He ripped the question from his mind and yanked his thumb out of his mouth. The needle went into the cap easily, and in the gloom he could sense the hypo filling up with the fluid. The needle slid easily out of the bottle. He crept up to the side of the bed. She moved slightly and Arthur froze. The dark hair framed her white face, and the ruffles of the pillow gave the appearance that she was lying on a bed of flowers. How beautiful she was. How innocent. Could she possibly be the source of all his problems? His hand reached out toward her, but he yanked it back. Arthur could not touch her. He just couldn't. He would have to quickly jab her and inject her and run away. Her neck. It was so smooth. The vein leapt out at him. Was that the best place for it? Mary always put it in her belly. But he could not bring himself to even thinking of doing that to Annakie. The neck. It had to be the neck. The needle slowly moved toward the vein. Arthur closed his eyes and told himself none of this was happening. When he opened them it still was. His heart began to pound. His mind began to scream. "Stop me!" he screamed in his mind. "Wake up and stop me! Scream and call for your parents! Stop me!" She didn't move. The needle hovered over her skin. Then he dropped the bottle of insulin. It hit her on the arm. Her eyes flashed open and stared at him. But not in terror. A smile came over her face and she shook her head. Annakie waggled her finger at him. "I don't think so!" His eyes flashed open at the glowing white dots as they rushed by. Arthur growled at himself in the darkness. He should not have fallen asleep. Especially not when he was driving. But he had not been asleep. And why was he looking for an exit? Arthur did not need to do anything. He turned on the radio and smiled. And he sang. I've been from Phoenix, Arizona, All the way to Tacoma, Philadelphia, Atlanta, L. A., Northern California, Where the girls are warm, So I can here my sweet baby say . . . But where was he? Where had he been? Arthur recognized the area. He was on his way back home. But where had he been? Perhaps he had went out driving. But at night? You can't see anything at night. Where, then? Phoenix, Arizona? He shrugged his shoulders. Maybe he went nowhere. Maybe he was picked up by aliens and had some anal probing done. He smiled, but for some reason the smile faded. Arthur looked down at the passenger seat. The stick. His eyes screamed at it. The stick. And next to it, an empty insulin bottle. His heart pounded. Then he saw the hypo. It was sitting there. Full. He slammed the gas pedal and was pushed back in the seat. The clock glued to the dashboard read 11:55. His heart stopped, then blasted him, reverberating in his bones. The tires squealed as he turned off the main road, down his street. Then the car died. He slammed on the brakes. And jumped out of the car. There was a hill just before the houses on his street. An empty hill, full of trees. He ran up it, gasping for air. Stumbling, he reached the crest. The houses came to view. The lights were on. He ran. He ran past the Baker's house. The ran past the McCandley's two story place. He panted up the road and jumped the ditch that lay between the road and his lawn. The light were still on. He smiled. It must be past midnight. Nothing had happened. Then the lights went out. A scream cracked the still night air. The blood in his temples screamed in unison. He raced up the walk to the door. It wouldn't open. It was locked. The keys were in the car. He banged on the door. And again. Nothing. The window. He picked up a rock from the garden and threw it. The glass smashed. he ripped through the screen and flung himself inside. There she was. In her blue housecoat. Crumpled on the floor. A broken coffee mug lay near a dark stain on the carpet. He ran to her and gathered her up in his arms. Warm. She was still warm. Nose. Her nose. He held his hand in front of it. Nothing. He put his head to her chest. Nothing. He beat on her chest. Nothing. Arthur laid her back on the floor. Tilted her head back. Blow. Pump. Blow. Pump. He had studied CPR so much that it was a part of his being. But nothing was happening. Nothing at all. A minute passed. Pump. Blow. More minutes. Pump. Blow. Half and hour. Pump. Blow. He was exhausted. She was still dead. He stopped and screamed. "Bastards!" A swirling motion began in the room. It slowly took form in front of him. A face. A body. Crooked shoulders. The long nose. "Moorehead?" "The Power of the Seat of Death, if it's all the same," his eyes rolled upward into the back of his head and he let out the gurgle that had passed as a laugh for so many years. "Since college, in fact. Since then I've had my eye on you - and her." "No . . ." Arthur's jaw dropped. The beady little eyes brightened. "Let go of her. She's in my domain now. There is nothing you can do," he gurgled. Arthur refused to agree. He refused to agree. Never. Never would he agree. She was alive. In his reality, she was alive. She would always be alive. What did the psychiatrists call that. Denial? They said it was wrong. But it was the only right thing to do. She would not die. Never. Not now. Other universes. The Real Universe. Grand Central Station. His mind spun about. It had changed. They had changed it. Sweat poured from him and he leaned back on his heels. Moorehead stopped gurgling and cocked his head. Deep inside him. He felt it. It had always been there. But Council had forbidden it for so long. He demanded it to come out. It refused. He coaxed it. It was shiny and warm. It was himself. Power filled him. He looked down at his wife. He could see inside her body. The scared heart that had exploded. The faulty glands. The broken womb that had witnessed the death of a child. And deeper. Smaller but bigger. The blueprints. The errors. He took the Power. He took the Power and fixed her. Smoothed out the rough edges. Mended the broken bits. Then he called her. Coaxed her out from hiding. Out from whatever dark place she had retreated to. Back to where he needed her. She opened her eyes. Tears streamed down his cheeks. "Are you okay?" she asked. He reached down and hugged her. With an angry hiss, Moorehead vanished, leaving a void filled with fullness. The walked out of the darkened house hand in hand. The sky was brightening in the north. She looked at him but he had no answers for her. Something rose from the tree tops. It was not the sun. It was a great golden ball on fire. The tendrils of flames coated it and shot forth from it, lighting the entire sky. It did not seem to care that all the clocks said it was midnight. Arthur heard hoofs tromping through the pine needle littered ground. He turned to look. It was Annakie, upon a unicorn with a glowing golden horn. "You see?" she tilted her head from side to side. "It all turned out all right. And you are the first." She then rode out of sight. Not behind something, but into something. Mary looked at him, but he still had no answers. They hugged each other and looked out at the horizon. But there was none. The land just kept on going. The earth's curve no longer hid the land beyond. The earth was now flat. A presence filled his mind. It was Dexter, and Arthur smiled. "It all turned out all right," Dexter's voice huffed. "Yeah, sure. Wait till you see what happens after this." He kissed Mary and they turned their eyes towards the stars. But they were not stars any more. They were silver fish swimming in a giant velvet ocean. And nearby, sitting on a rock, was a cat. A cat with golden glowing eyes, pawing at them. Madge's Medal Copyright (c) 1994, Franchot Lewis All rights reserved MADGE'S MEDAL by Franchot Lewis There was no honeymoon, because the day after we got married was a monday, and on Mondays, I had to go to work. Madge had to go to her job too. But that Sunday night of our wedding day, I'd planned to go to work on Madge. She was a sweet girl, a nice girl. We got married at noon in a church. Her mama and grand mama sang a hymn. Her father gave us a nice reception that went on all afternoon and into the early evening. So many of her relatives were in attendance and there were so many toasts. Madge sat on the bed rubbing her hand over the small medal of Jesus dangling from a silver chain around her neck. The silver figure of a hippy-headed Jesus that looked like a young Errol Flynn had a polished shine. She rubbed upwards over the flawlessly engraved nose and on, around the face. She then got off the bed, went and stood in front of the full-length mirror. She held the chain with reverence as an enormous sigh shook loose from her belly. She thrust her chest forward, causing the medal to bounce and swing from side to side. She then turned and returned to the bed where I, her newly- wedded husband, waited, wearing my fireman red wedding night briefs that she brought for me to wear. I'd prepared myself carefully in the bathroom [cologne, aftershave, a touch of musk, a tonic of ginseng root that I was told gave a man an extra measure of strength; not that I felt I would need it, I felt more than ready for Madge]. I'd only a second before laid down on top of the sheets. My patient eyes zeroed in on the shining medal of Jesus [The face - the silver colored engraved eyes looked like little gleaming bumps]. "This is Jesus, my good luck piece," Madge said. "Now, Honey, let's pray before we start our wedding night." She smiled as she pulled back the sheet and slid in to the bed with me. We prayed. After the prayer, I thrust my hips to hers and held us together. Using every bit of my strength, I pulled her closer, persistently, until the hard shining medal - pinching, scraping, grating - hurt my chest too much. "I hope I don't get permanent scars," I said softly. [Mumbled, maybe. Groaned. Muttered ...] "Oh, excuse me," she pulled away, politely. "What's that!" I asked. [Maybe barking, a little. Just a little.] "My Jesus? My medal?" she bitched. [Barked. Maybe asked just a little too annoyed.] I asked, "Are you going to keep it on?" "Yes," she answered, a little louder than I'd expected. "I don't take it off, not even in the shower." "We're not in the shower -" "Don't start raising your voice to me. Ever since the day I accepted my Lord and have been saved and have come to love Jesus very much I have worn this. This medal is something that will keep me in luck. I made a promise never to let it out of my possession." As she told me this, I started to remove her night gown. Her young breasts re-fired quickly my passion, and took my attention and caused my caressing hand to - 'Lord, have mercy!' [I may have mumbled this.] - Oh, I had the intense desire to cover her breasts with my chest, and as I did, the brutal medal caused my chest pain. The medal was incredibly rough, like a claw, scratching my skin raw, causing a red bruise and pricking a small drop of blood. From that moment on I became determined to get her to remove the medal. She would not, and so, the wedding night was a night of misfortune, of me trying to embrace her and of me complaining about the medal. Eventually, I had to abandon the activities I had long planned and hoped for, for that night. My bride accused me of being only interested in carnal sex, and of caring more about carnal sex than having Jesus there to bless us and to watch over our marriage. I attempted a few times to remove the medal. She repeated that she would not take off the medal. "Not ever!" she snarled. [Yeah, like a dog. A certain female dog, I'm sorry to say.] I told her, I would not embrace her until she removed the medal. I said that being married didn't warranted being marred by that trinket of Jesus and given scars that would last for a life time. She got pissed, said I had an attitude, was being mean and was acting in a sinful, terrible way. "A groom doesn't act like you toward his bride, " she said with her own attitude. And, so, as I've stated, I gave up in despair. The strong, natural urge to consummate the marriage grew stronger. By the next day I was irritable and nervous. I believe I came to the edge of a nervous collapse. I even sought the help of a work buddy, an older man whose opinion I valued. I did not like what he had to say. He told me there was nothing he could advise, except I should snatch the medal from my wife's neck and get down to some immediate relief. He said, if I didn't take action I would definitely end up in a mental institution. That evening I was in the bathroom, breathing hard, aroused with intense carnal thoughts. My bride stretched to adjust the shower head. I could see her clearly through the transparent curtains. She in the sensuous all-together - The shower water falling down, and around her fine, firm figure. She was a sight, excitingly good to to the eye to watch. Hanging down between her breasts, on the chain, was the medal of Jesus. That darn medal seemed to nip and tear another raw place in my skin as I watched my bride take a long shower. She scrubbed the cloth down her legs, stopping at her chins. Her bent butt with her broad hip bones made me scratch my head more and more, and yes, I said a little prayer to Heaven for help. Soon, she was out of the shower and standing on the bathroom floor mat, dripping, drying herself with my HIS of our set of HIS and HERS towels, and the medal of Jesus was dangling down on its chain. She rubbed her luscious body, pausing to stare at me. It looked obvious that she wanted to cuddled with me. "It is bizarre," she mumbled. She stroked her legs with the towel and I stroked the scalp of my head. My head began to feel thinning on the top as if hair was falling out from stress. I stared at the Jesus medal, at it glare, its reflection of bathroom's bare ceiling light. I could swear, I winced from the glare. "Stop being high and mighty," I said. [Maybe plead]. "Will you, long enough to permit me my husbandly duty? [I'er - maybe I put it a little plainer, like: 'let me have you, baby,' or 'come on, girl.'] She surprised me, sounded as if she was hurting almost as much as I. "Stop being a jerk, you think I don't want you? But, I am your bride, not somebody to have her faith torn from around her neck just for your convenience." She looked more determined to resist removing the medal. She stood straight, her back straight, her breasts out. She let the long bath towel fall to the floor. She took a walk to the bedroom to her chest of drawers for underwear. She spent a full minute working a frilly trimmed pair of pink undies up and over her legs and her sexy hips. I scratched my head like crazy as my bride finally tugged the underwear in place. Naked with the exception of her drawers, Madge was now at her sexiest, and she wore a proud expression on her beautiful face. She stood before me, her husband. She was incredibly beautiful and she knew that I knew it. She stood up to me, her soft hands on her hips, her magnificent breasts bared and challenging, and that medal, that darn medal, like a weapon at the ready, resting on those bare, bodicious breasts. Suddenly, my hand darted out, took her arms and ... quick like a stroke of lightning, pulled her tightly to me. Anxious looks took over her face as I would not let her pull away. For a brief moment, neither she or I saw the blood that dripped from my chest at the point where the medal tore a small hole. My eyes must have looked glazed over during that moment. Her eyes kept widening. The small flow of blood ran down our [held closed together] chests and reached her drawers. My mind was busy, my body was shuddering, experiencing a strong kind of intense relief; then I stepped back and she broke loose and darted across the room away from me. As she moved away, I said softly, "There is a line nobody should have to cross. I saw what you were doing. Shall I apologize, no?" She started talking slowly, having much difficulty speaking. She was extremely tight. She saw the blood and the wound. The wound was still small, the blood was still bleeding out. "You actually want to hurt me?" she said. I said, "I don't." "Why do you?" she asked. "Wait a minute?" I said. "Do you have an idea what you do? You do things to me like -" Her eyes got fierce and bored into me. "Do you realize that you are crazy?" "Yes." "You actually admit it?" My eyes were wandering over her body. "I'm crazy about you, " I said. "I-I had to meet a man like you," she stammered. "That's the way I am." "And me," I said. "What are you going to do? Hurt me more?" "You don't know how much I love you. You don't know? I'm going to kiss you, squeeze you, hug you tight, never let you go." [Yes, I spoke like I was quoting from a love song.] "I'm bruised and you're bleeding ..." she said. I moved closer. "You're my wife, my WIFE. I'm going to squeeze you tight, get ready." "Wait!" she said. "Wait ..." She made the sign of the cross, removed the chain and laid the medal reverently on top of her chest of drawers. The Lyric Copyright (c) 1994, Ed Davis All rights reserved THE LYRIC by Ed Davis I met the Lyric in 1946. She was only thirty years old, but she was already a lady with a colorful past. She was born a vaudevillian and was converted to a nickelodeon, during the rush to spread the flickers over the country. Her early years were highlighted with all the ups and downs of the times. She experienced the last of the "Roaring Twenties" and had even passed through the madness of the depression. My Lyric was well past her teens when, on December seventh, she and all her people were thrust into the confusion of war. She did her part as her people joined hands to fight the distant enemies. Rubber drives, tin drives, glass drives, and steel drives were all initiated within her sheltering arms. War news, good and bad, flashed in stark black and white reality through her comforting interior. Comedy, romance, and drama passed through her eyes for the entertainment of her beloved town. War bond drives, with live heroes in obligatory attendance, provided a tense counterpoint to the frivolity. She never really forgot the serious nature of the peril which had taken her young people away. Her shiny black exterior seemed to mourn the deaths that were chronicled in her nightly displays. Even the recounting of V.E. Day and V.J. Day seemed anticlimactic, after the hell of war. My first meeting with Lyric was on a Saturday afternoon. Her vast interior was filled with seats. Soft lights reflected warmly from her sides. Her big heart was in repose behind heavy curtains. Those curtains covered one whole end of her. The lady had an enormous heart. She was filled with children, as usual. I felt lost, and a stranger. I do not recall a Saturday when she was not filled with eager children. She swiftly took me to her breast. I felt welcome. We children always expected, and received, her best. We were amused, excited, inspired, and sometimes terrified, by the scenes she unveiled. When her interior was lighted again, however, she cherished us with love and the security of a familiar place. We felt free to explore the world, wrapped safely within the care and protection she gave. Our lady introduced honor into our lives. She persuaded us to laugh, despite our teacher's solemnity and the approaching terror of growing up. We cried and laughed together in her protective darkness, and failed to notice that she was growing older. Maybe we missed her decline because we moved further away from the flashing images she revealed. Younger children rushed to take our places up front, as the process of maturing allowed us to take a broader view. My memories were not memories yet. I did not achieve that step in maturing until 1964, when I returned home, and learned that the Lyric was closed. I was stunned. Memories washed over me in waves. The smell of popcorn... The bite of Coke, freshly splashed over ice... The enormity of a ten cent Sugar Daddy... Eager faces lighted by the strobing light, reflecting from her radiant heart... The tingle of waiting for "The Thing" to appear... The feel of her carpet, new again under my small feet, as my child's memory ran down her beckoning aisle. I recalled childhood friends, some dead now, throwing popcorn bullets and candy wrapper grenades, at a variety of bad guys. I mourned the loss of another friend. Rest well old friend, you were never a mother, but you delivered me and my friends from childhood to maturity. God bless you. I persuaded the owner of the jewelry store that now fills her lobby to allow me to take a peek out back. He obliged. Her seats were stacked together in random piles, her exit signs were broken, and the exits themselves were boarded over with raw lumber. As I strained to see in the half light, her heart was still visible. I will forever recall the lessons she had flashed into my mind. John Wayne, in his myriad roles, reminding me of Dad. Beautiful women, their radiance dulled now by time. Walt Disney magic. The Buck Rogers serials, Star Wars in diapers. Tarzan and his simian companion. All the western morality plays. My memories will stay. Just as surely, my vision will fade. She even taught me to accept that finality. I have never entered another theater, since that day, without thinking of her. I never will. My vision faded that day. I was wiping tears away, as I left, and felt no shame. ÚÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄ¿ ³ ÚËÍÍÍË¿ ÚË Ë¿ ÚËÍÍÍË¿ Ú» É¿ ÚËÍÍÍË¿ ÚËÍÍÍË¿ ÚÉ ÚÍÑËÑÍ¿ ÚËÍÍÍË¿ ³ ³ ³º ÃÎÍÍÍδ ³ÌÍÍËÊÙ ÀÊÑËѼ٠ÀÊÍÍÍË¿ ÃÎÍÍÍδ ³º ³º³ ÀÊÍÍÍË¿ ³ ³ ÀÊÍÍÍÊÙ ÀÊ ÊÙ ÀÊ ÈÍÙ ÀÊÙ ÀÊÍÍÍÊÙ ÀÊ ÊÙ ÀÊÍÍÍÊÙ ÀÍÏÊÏÍÙ ÀÊÍÍÍÊÙ ³ ³ Dallas/Ft Worth's First & Longest Running Multi-User BBS ³ ³ Online Since 1979 ³ ÃÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄ´ ³ (214) 690-9295 Dallas (817) 540-5565 Ft. 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Worth ³ ÀÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÙ Natalie, Those Children Are Calling For You Copyright (c) 1994, Daniel Sendecki All rights reserved Natalie, those children are calling for you ------------------------------------------- Natalie, those children are calling for you those smiling eyes those unlined faces Innocence is excusable Eyes cannot shine forever against what I know Children crack like porcelain dolls and babies grow raggedy- limp from hunger I stand on your front step like a puppet-master of broken marionettes hoping that you never will see a rotten limb a knotted fist a painted grimace Leave me here, please Natalie could you please go inside and close the door leave me to clean up these broken pawns these limp strings Laura Copyright (c) 1994, Tamara All rights reserved Laura by Tamara In the beginning they were created equal two halves of a whole or so they say. Then the two became as one Where's Laura? With him, came the reply. As the years moved on their lives intertwined From there union formed another, and then one more A life complete; a family. Where's Laura? With them, came the reply. Tucking them in; a nightly read just one of many routines Wide-eyed with wonder they listen to the fairy tales she once believed. Where's Laura? Withdrawn, came the reply. A vacant stare left undisturbed by the passing of the years Forlorn, she felt forgotten He, an outsider to her grief from him she withdrew.. Where's Laura? Without, came the reply. Came a time when night was day and chaos ruled supreme there was to be a single crushing blow from the rubble came a sign Lady Hawk, her spirits rose Where's Laura? Within, came the reply. She laughed. Written 8/24/94 by Tamara Turn Away Copyright (c) 1994, J. Guenther All rights reserved Turn away by J. Guenther [DON'T LOOK AT ME DON'T SPEAK TO ME DON'T TALK TO ME DON'T THINK OF ME] please, I'm standing here for you and i want to talk to you but please don't turn away from me-- i still need you! [DON'T SMILE AT ME DON'T WHISPER TO ME DON'T WALK TO ME DON'T WRITE TO ME] listen to my heart as it trembles as you turn your deaf & mute head away! i still need you tonight to hear my words! [DON'T LISTEN TO ME DON'T INSULT ME DON'T REMIND ME JUST LEAVE ME] depth of pain, have mercy! i see your reflection, but like a vampire, its host has vanished into air and left a soulless shell to do its deed. [DON'T TALK TO ME DON'T STAY BY ME PLEASE DON'T LIVE BY ME AND PLEASE DON'T LOVE ME] i don't [PLEASE DON'T LOVE ME] i said i don't [PLEASE DON'T LOVE ME] i promise i won't [JUST LEAVE ME] Eternity Copyright (c) 1994, Sean Donahue All rights reserved I was lost and wandering, Wondering what to do. Looking for another, but running into you. Each day with out you is ETERNITY. ETERNITY without you. My love is meaningless, without your soft caress. ETERNITY, without you. As I get up to apologize, you say you're sorry too. And as I gaze into your eyes, I wonder who are you. Each day with out you is ETERNITY. ETERNITY without you. My love is meaningless, without your soft caress. ETERNITY, without you. We sat and talked for awhile, and then you went away. The feelings that I have now, are the same I had that day. But I left a book with my name, today your looking fine. We got together and had some fun. And now your love is mine. Each day with you is Eternity. Eternity with you, my love to share with no other, But Eternity with you. Eternity! THE RATES HAVE GONE DOWN! THE RATES HAVE GONE DOWN! IT'S CHEAPER NOW! ÄÍÄÍÄÍÄÍÄÍÄÍÄÍÄÍÄÍÄÍÄÍÄÍÄÍÄÍÄÍÄÍÄÍÄÍÄÍÄÍÄÍÄÍÄÍÄÍÄÍÄÍÄÍÄÍÄÍÄÍÄÍÄÍÄÍÄÍÄÍÄÍÄ ÖÄÄÒÄÄ¿ ÒÄÄ¿ Ä· Ú ÖÄÄ¿ ÖÄ¿ ÖÄÄÒÄÄ¿ ÖÄÄ¿ Ò Ò Ú ÒÄÄÄÄ¿ ÒÄÄÄÄ¿ ÖÄÄÄÄÄ¿ º ÇÄ ÖÐÂÙ ÇÄÄ´ ÓÄ¿ º ÇÄÄ´ º ÇÄÁ¿ º ³ º ³ º º ÐÄÄÙ ½ ÀÄ Ð Á ÓÄÄÙ º Ð Á ÐÄÄÙ Ð Á ÇÄÄÄÄÁ¿ ÇÄÄÄÄÁ¿ ÓÄÄÄÄÄ¿ º (2400) º (14.4k) º ³ º ³ ³ Ð (214) 497-9100 Ð (214) 680-4330 ÐÄÄÄÄÄÙ ÐÄÄÄÄÄÙ ÓÄÄÄÄÄÙ ÄÍÄÍÄÍÄÍÄÍÄÍÄÍÄÍÄÍÄÍÄÍÄÍÄÍÄÍÄÍÄÍÄÍÄÍÄÍÄÍÄÍÄÍÄÍÄÍÄÍÄÍÄÍÄÍÄÍÄÍÄÍÄÍÄÍÄÍÄÍÄÍÄ 1:124/5122 (Fidonet) %textalk@egsner.cirr.com 28 Lines, Five 14.4k modems, 6 CDROMs, Fidonet, Internet, UltraChat Legends 5.0, Lotsa Games, Live Trivia, Social Gatherings, Friendly Atmosphere, Over 30,000 new messages daily, Expanding Gay Area 2400 baud D/FW Metro phone lines: (817) 424-1037 (817) 424-1978 Everyone online is 18 or over. NO EXCEPTIONS. Call TODAY for your free two-week trial offer. Top Ten List Copyright (c) 1994, Joe DeRouen All rights reserved Top Ten Ways To Tell You're Having a Really Rough Day In BBS Land 10. SysOp changes your handle to "Ima Leech" 9. Your aunt uses your new CD-ROM disc as a coaster 8. Psych 101 paper gets juxtaposed with alt.sex file from Internet 7. President of local computer user group marries your sister 6. FIDO doesn't like your front-end mailer - and neither does Spot 5. Your wife finds your GIF collection 4. National debt pales in comparison to your upload/download ratio 3. You find your *wife's* GIF collection 2. Chastised by angry RIME conference host for being off topic 1. Artificial Intelligence program won't hot chat you (c) 1994 Joe DeRouen. All rights reserved. "A Bum Walked Up To Me And Said..." Copyright (c) 1994, Bruce Diamond All rights reserved "A Bum Walked Up To Me And Said, 'I Haven't Had A Byte In Three Days.' So I Gave Him A Computer." by Bruce Diamond My friend, Rick, the stand-up comic, told me the other day he just landed a gig at some big gala event and he wanted to bounce some jokes off me. Dripping sweat on the new carpet I had installed in my home office, Rick flopped down on the guest chair after his afternoon jog. Why he insisted jogging with all of his gadgets always puzzled me -- he looked like a secret service agent after a quick sprint around the Rose Garden with Bill Clinton. Rick's a gadget freak, even if he doesn't know the business end of a computer; he gravitates towards telecommunications/paging gizmos. Two pagers (one for digital messages, the other to display telephone numbers), a cellular phone (usually kept in a briefcase), a flip phone, two microcassette recorders (one for joke ideas, the other one to record everything else), an electronic rolodex, an electronic dictionary, and an electronic translator (he just likes the sound of English translated to Latin and back . . . don't ask me). The translator hits the upper limit of his gizmatic abilities, though . . . most everything with more than ten keys confuses him. I just nodded, staring at the "Wrong fax modem type" error message on my screen. Wrong type? The manual indicated all I had to do was install the word processing program and boom, I'd be junk-faxing thirty companies in Walla Walla the details of my new fake insect in the ice cube products, "the perfect ice-breaker at parties." Rick droned on about the national convention of computer nerds where he'd be performing. I shot him my best "I can kill you with a pocket protector" glare, but he ignored it, as usual. The word processor/fax software manual was more interesting, anyway. "I figured," he went on, "that since you're the only computer ner . . . er, I mean expert . . . that I know, maybe you could give me some feedback on these techy jokes I'm gonna wow 'em with." Murmuring a vague assent, I realized I hadn't loaded the fax utilities that came with the word processor. Writing jokes for Rick would take less time than reinstalling the program, but it was my only option. At least Rick could help me kill some time. "Get this one, get this one." Rick shuffled the index cards he pulled out of his fanny pack. "Hey, I hear Bill Gates once worked on an earlier version of Windows called . . . No-Doze! Geddit, geddit?" I snatched the card from him. "It's spelled W-I-N-D-O-W-S, Rick. And the only people who complain about the speed are the prehistorics still running 386-25 machines." Rick took the card back, giving me his "you're a walking encyclopedia, and annoying on top of it" look. I just smiled and turned back to the computer. The installation was finished, so I rebooted while Rick scribbled some notes. He grabbed another card from his stack. Torturing him was going to be fun. "I suppose I can scrap this one, too. 'Programs don't run under Windows . . . they crawl.'" He lifted an eyebrow, daring me to disagree. I smiled. Rick tore the card in two. And about ten others, muttering something like "Fifty bucks, down the drain" under his breath. He lifted another card. "WordImperfect?" he asked, querously. Shaking my head, I answered, "Been done." While he tossed three other cards, I tried faxing again. Again the computer beeped and "Wrong fax modem type" appeared on the screen. Realizing my mistake, I rewrote the batch file to load the driver before the word processor, and rebooted again. Maybe writing jokes for Rick would be easier than this. The person who first thought of integrated software should be subjected to Rick's routine. Where did he get this material? Rick's no A-list comedian, but he isn't bottom-of-the-barrel, either. He's played Vegas, for goodness' sake. Well, okay, so it was a small club on the outskirts of town, but it was Vegas. His glitter-suits, specially tailored for him in Nevada, were the only proof he had of the two-night gig, but I never doubted him. Triumphantly, Rick lifted another card from the stack. "This one's guaranteed, baby. It'll kill, I know it will." He cleared his throat and put on his best stage voice. Unfortunately, I can't repeat what he said here, this being a family publication and all. The joke went on for five minutes, filled with "software" and "hardware" and "hard disk," all told in an adolescent- male voice loaded with testosterone. Is that a vivid enough picture for you? "Obviously, Rick, you've never played Leather Goddesses of Phobos or Leisure Suit Larry. This material won't kill . . . it's already dead." "Writing the Great American Novell?" Nuh-uh. "New Frito-Lay Computer Chips, able to store three times the fat and salt than other chips?" Nope. "IBM means Infernally Bad Machines?" I showed him my IBM shirt with three dozen variations on the theme. "I hit a speed-bump on the Information Superhighway?" Oh, please. You've hit a speed-bump in your brain. "My mouth runs at 14.4k baud but my brain runs at 300 baud?" That's true, but it won't get any laughs. "I got a code in my node from a computer virus?" Highly unlikely. "Nancy Sinatra's new hit song, 'These Reboots Are Made For AWKing'?" Too obscure, incorrect, and just plain unfunny. "I know all about multitasking -- I read in the bathroom, and eat while watching TV." Yawn. "This LAN is your LAN, this LAN is my LAN . . ." He still insists on singing in his act despite his agent's advice, and despite my yowling-dog impersonation when he does it. Rick is completely tone-deaf. "Byte me." Only works in print, bucko. And even in print it's dull. Rick must have run through a hundred "jokes" on that lazy, hazy, crazy afternoon, getting more discouraged with each passing hour. When he offered "just the fax, ma'am," that reminded me of my task at hand, and I reloaded the word processor while he ran through his last half-dozen gags. I couldn't stand it any more . . . I just had to know. "Rick, where did you get this awful material? Your usual stuff is cleverer than this." Rick shook his head and sighed. "I've gotta cousin, oh, about 15 years old, who runs her own BBS, and thought I'd save a little money . . ." I ran a hand over my face. "Don't tell me -- she grabbed a tagline file for you, didn't she?" Nodding, Rick tore the last few cards in two. My office looked like the remains of a ticker tape parade, or an all-night crash programming session at Microsoft. "Look, Rick," I counseled, "you and I both know you get what you pay for. Gear up your regular writers and bite the bullet." "Yeah, yeah, I know you're right." Rick thanked me for the input and shuffled his way back to his apartment, gadgets clacking against each other on his fanny pouch belt. He looked as dejected as Lotus after Novell beat them out to purchase WordPerfect. Turning back to my screen, I entered Rick's name and address on the fax cover letter as the contact person for the fake ice cube novelties. Looked like he needed something to fall back on. Those "nerds" were going to eat him alive. ÚÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄ¿ ³ 110 Nodes * 4000 Conferences * 30.0 Gigabytes * 100,000+ Archives ³ ÀÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÙ ÛÛßßßßßß ÛÛ ÛÛ ÛÛßßßßÛÛ ÛÛßßÛ ÛÛ ÛÛßßÛ ÛÛ ÛÛßßßßßß ÛÛ ßÛÛ (R) ÛÛ ÛÛÜÜÜÜÛÛ ÛÛÜÜÜÜÛÛ ÛÛ Û ÛÛ ÛÛ Û ÛÛ ÛÛÜÜÜÜÜÜ ÛÛ ÛÛ ÛÛ ÛÛ ÛÛ ÛÛ ÛÛ ÛÛ Û ÛÛ ÛÛ Û ÛÛ ÛÛ ÛÛ Ü ÛÛ ßßßßßßßß ßß ßß ßß ßß ßß ßßßß ßß ßßßß ßßßßßßßß ßßßßßßß ßßßß °°°°°°°° * Winner, First Dvorak/Zoom "Best General BBS" Award °°°°°°°° * INTERNET/Usenet Access * DOS/Windows/OS2/Mac/Amiga/Unix * ILink, RIME, Smartnet * Best Files in the USA * Pen & Brush, BASnet. * 120 Online Games * QWKmail & Offline Readers * Multi-line Chat Closing Stocks, Financial News, Business/Professional Software, NewsBytes, PC-Catalog, MovieCritic, EZines, AbleData, ASP, 4DOS Huge Windows, Graphics, Music, Programming, Education Libraries ÚÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄ¿ ³ Channel 1 Communications(R) * Cambridge, MA * 617-354-3230 14.4 ³ ÀÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÙ °°°úfasterúbetterúless expensiveú°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°°° "Best Files in US" ° Þ°±²Û²±°±²Û²±°±²Û²±°±²Û²±°±²Û²±°±²Û²±°±²Û²±°±²Û²±°±²Û²±°±²Û²±°±²Û²±°±²Û²±°±²Û²±Ý ÞúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúúÝ Þ ÚÄÄÄÄÄÄ¿ 2400bps &  (414) 789-4210 Ý Þ ³ ÚÄÄÄÄÙ "The best connection your USR HST 9600 (414) 789-4337 Ý Þ ³ ³ modem will ever make!!" USR HST 14400 (414) 789-4352 Ý Þ ³ ÀÄÄÄ¿ v.32bis 14400 (414) 789-4360 Ý Þ ³ ÚÄÄÄÙ Ü Ü ÜÜÜÜÜ ÜÜÜÜÜ ÜÜÜÜÜ ÜÜÜÜÜ Compucom 9600 (414) 789-4450 Ý Þ ³ ³ ßÜß ÛÜÜÜ Û ÜÜÜ ÛÜÜÜÛ Û Hayes V-Series (414) 789-4315 Ý Þ ³ ÀÄÄÄÄ¿ Üß ßÜ ÛÜÜÜÜ ÛÜÜÜÜ Û ÛÜÜÜÜ v.FC 28800 (414) 789-4500 Ý Þ ÀÄÄÄÄÄÄÙ Ý Þ Ý Þ þ Exec-PC BBS is the largest LAN and microcomputer based BBS in the world! Ý Þ þ 280+ dedicated phone lines - NO busy signals - 24-Hour access Ý Þ þ Over 650,000 files and programs - DOS, Windows, OS/2, Mac, Unix, Amiga Ý Þ þ Lightning fast - Search 20,000 files in 2 seconds with Hyperscan feature Ý Þ þ Over 42 CD-ROM's online - Scan all of them at 1 time for keywords Ý Þ þ Special Apogee games, Moraffware games, and Adult file areas Ý Þ þ Extensive message system with QWK compatability - Also, Fidonet areas! Ý Þ þ Online Doors / Games / Job Search / PC-Catalog / Online Magazines Ý Þ þ Over 5000 callers per day can't be wrong - 35 gig of online storage! Ý Þ þ Low subscription rates: $25 for 3 months, $75 for a full year Ý ÞúúúúúúúúúúúúCallútheúBBSúforúaúFREEútrialúdemo,úandúFREEúdownloadsúúúúúúúúúúúúÝ Þ°±²Û²±°±²Û²±°±²Û²±°±²Û²±°±²Û²±°±²Û²±°±²Û²±°±²Û²±°±²Û²±°±²Û²±°±²Û²±°±²Û²±°±²Û²±Ý ÜÜÜÜÜÜÜÜ ÜÜÜÜÜÜÜ ÜÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÜ ÜÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÜ "Bringing our software to your home" ÄÄÄÄÄÄÛÛÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÜÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÛÛÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄ ßßßßßßÛÛßßßßßßßÛßßßßßßßßßÛÛßßßßßßßßßßßßßßßßßßßßßßßßßßßßßßßßßßßßßßßßßßßßßßßßßßß ÍÍÍÍÍÍÛÛÍÍÍÍÍßÛÛÛßÍÍÍÜÛÍÍÛÛÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍ ÛÛ Û ÛÛÜÜÛÛ (717)325-9481 14.4 ßÛ ßÛÛÛÛß 2 NODES ÜÜÜÜÜÜÜ ÜÜÜÜÜ ÜÜÜÜ ÜÜÜÜÜÜ Ü Ü ÜÜÜÜÜ ÜÜÜÜ ÜÜÜÜ ÜÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÜ ÜÛÛÛÛÛÜ ÜÛÛÛÛÜ ÜÛÛÛÛÛÛÜ ÜÛ ÜÛ ÜÛÛÛÛÛÜ ÜÛÛÛÛÜ ÜÛÛÛÛÜ ÍÍÛÛÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÛÛÍÍÍÛÛÍÍÛÛÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÍÛÛÍÍÍÍÍÛÛÍÍÍÍÛÛÍÍÛÛÍÍÍÛÛÍÍÛÛÍÍÛÛÍÍÍÛÛÍÍÍÍÍÍÍ ÜÜÛÛÜÜÜÜÜÜÜÜÜÛÛÜÜÜÛÛÜÜÛÛÜÜÜÜÜÜÜÜÜÛÛÜÜÜÜÜÛÛÜÜÜÜÛÛÜÜÛÛÜÜÜÛÛÜÜÛÛÜÜÛÛÜÜÜÛÛÜÜÜÜÜÜÜ ÄÄßÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÜÄÄÛÛÄÄÄÛÛÄÄÛÛÛÛÜÄÄÄÄÄÄÛÛÄÄÄÄÄÛÛÄÜÜÄÛÛÄÄÛÛÛÛÛÛÛÄÄÛÛÛÛÛÛÄÄÄÛÛÛÜÄÄÄÄÄ ÛÛ ÛÛ ÛÛ ÛÛ ÛÛ ÛÛ ÛÛ ÛÛ ÛÛ ÛÛ ÛÛ ÛÛÜ ÛÛ ÜÜÜÜÜÜÜÛÛ ÛÛÜÜÜÛÛ ÛÛ ÛÛ ÛÛÜÛÛÜÛÛ ÛÛ ÛÛ ÛÛ ÛÛÜ ÛÛÜÜÜÜ ßÛÛÛÛÛÛÛß ßÛÛÛÛÛß ßÛ ßÛ ßÛÛÛÛß ßÛ ßÛ ßÛ ßÛ ßÛÛÛÛß Prize Vault Lemonade Scramble Dollarmania ANSI Voting Booth Studs! Studette BadUser Convince! OnLine! GoodUser T&J Lotto T&JStat TJTop30 Environmental QT Video Poker Announce Bordello! Money Market Bordello T&J Raffle RIP Lemonade AgeCheck Strip Poker RIP Voting Booth ...and more coming! ÚÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄ¿ ³ ÚËÍÍÍË¿ ÚË Ë¿ ÚËÍÍÍË¿ Ú» É¿ ÚËÍÍÍË¿ ÚËÍÍÍË¿ ÚÉ ÚÍÑËÑÍ¿ ÚËÍÍÍË¿ ³ ³ ³º ÃÎÍÍÍδ ³ÌÍÍËÊÙ ÀÊÑËѼ٠ÀÊÍÍÍË¿ ÃÎÍÍÍδ ³º ³º³ ÀÊÍÍÍË¿ ³ ³ ÀÊÍÍÍÊÙ ÀÊ ÊÙ ÀÊ ÈÍÙ ÀÊÙ ÀÊÍÍÍÊÙ ÀÊ ÊÙ ÀÊÍÍÍÊÙ ÀÍÏÊÏÍÙ ÀÊÍÍÍÊÙ ³ ³ Dallas/Ft Worth's First & Longest Running Multi-User BBS ³ ³ Online Since 1979 ³ ÃÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄ´ ³ (214) 690-9295 Dallas (817) 540-5565 Ft. Worth ³ ÃÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄ´ ³ 64 Telephone Lines ³ ³ Internet E-Mail, FTPmail, Archie, Oracle, Usenet Groups ³ ³ Over 35+ Gigabytes of Files Represented - 12 CD-Rom Drives Online ³ ³ NO File Upload or File Ratio Requirements ³ ³ Interactive Multiuser Chat Conferences ³ ³ Dozens of Interactive, Real-Time, Games of Chance & Excitement ³ ³ Text, Graphics, & ANSI Color Completely Supported ³ ³ Dozens of Special Interest Areas - Literally 1000s of Messages Online ³ ³ USA Today Online Each Business Day ³ ³ Thousands of Interesting, Intelligent, Diverse Members ³ ³ Connex (Tm) - The Biographical, Friendship, and Matchmaking Service ³ ³ Voted # 1 BBS in Texas by Boardwatch BBS Magazine ³ ÃÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄ´ ³ High Speed: (214) 690-9296 Dallas (817) 540-5569 Ft. Worth ³ ÀÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÙ THE RATES HAVE GONE DOWN! THE RATES HAVE GONE DOWN! IT'S CHEAPER NOW! ÄÍÄÍÄÍÄÍÄÍÄÍÄÍÄÍÄÍÄÍÄÍÄÍÄÍÄÍÄÍÄÍÄÍÄÍÄÍÄÍÄÍÄÍÄÍÄÍÄÍÄÍÄÍÄÍÄÍÄÍÄÍÄÍÄÍÄÍÄÍÄÍÄ ÖÄÄÒÄÄ¿ ÒÄÄ¿ Ä· Ú ÖÄÄ¿ ÖÄ¿ ÖÄÄÒÄÄ¿ ÖÄÄ¿ Ò Ò Ú ÒÄÄÄÄ¿ ÒÄÄÄÄ¿ ÖÄÄÄÄÄ¿ º ÇÄ ÖÐÂÙ ÇÄÄ´ ÓÄ¿ º ÇÄÄ´ º ÇÄÁ¿ º ³ º ³ º º ÐÄÄÙ ½ ÀÄ Ð Á ÓÄÄÙ º Ð Á ÐÄÄÙ Ð Á ÇÄÄÄÄÁ¿ ÇÄÄÄÄÁ¿ ÓÄÄÄÄÄ¿ º (2400) º (14.4k) º ³ º ³ ³ Ð (214) 497-9100 Ð (214) 680-4330 ÐÄÄÄÄÄÙ ÐÄÄÄÄÄÙ ÓÄÄÄÄÄÙ ÄÍÄÍÄÍÄÍÄÍÄÍÄÍÄÍÄÍÄÍÄÍÄÍÄÍÄÍÄÍÄÍÄÍÄÍÄÍÄÍÄÍÄÍÄÍÄÍÄÍÄÍÄÍÄÍÄÍÄÍÄÍÄÍÄÍÄÍÄÍÄÍÄ 1:124/5122 (Fidonet) %textalk@egsner.cirr.com 28 Lines, Five 14.4k modems, 6 CDROMs, Fidonet, Internet, UltraChat Legends 5.0, Lotsa Games, Live Trivia, Social Gatherings, Friendly Atmosphere, Over 30,000 new messages daily, Expanding Gay Area 2400 baud D/FW Metro phone lines: (817) 424-1037 (817) 424-1978 Everyone online is 18 or over. NO EXCEPTIONS. Call TODAY for your free two-week trial offer. There are several different ways to get STTS magazine. SysOps: Contact me via any of the addresses listed in CONTACT POINTS listed elsewhere in this issue. Just drop me a note telling me your name, city, state, your BBS's name, it's phone number and it's baud rate, and where you'll be getting STTS from each month. If your BBS carries RIME, Pen & Brush Network, or you have access to the InterNet, I can put you on the STTS mailing list to receive the magazine free of charge each month. If you have access to FIDO, you can file request the magazine. If you don't have access to any of these services - or do but don't wish to use this option - you can call any of the BBS's listed in DISTRIBUTION SITES and download the new issue each month. In either case contact me so that I can put your BBS in the dist. site list for the next issue of the magazine. (Refer to DISTRIBUTION VIA NETWORKS for more detailed information about the nets) Users: You can download STTS each month from any of the BBS's mentioned in DISTRIBUTION SITES elsewhere in this issue. If your local BBS isn't listed, pester and cajole your SysOp to "subscribe" to STTS for you. (the subscription, of course, is free) If you haven't any other way of receiving the magazine each month, a monthly disk subscription (sent out via US Mail) is available for $ 20.00 per year. Foreign subscriptions are $ 25.00 (american dollars). Subscriptions should be mailed to: Joe DeRouen 3910 Farmville Dr. # 144 Addison, Tx. 75244 U.S.A. * Special Offer * [ Idea stolen from Dave Bealer's RaH Magazine. So sue me. ] Having trouble finding back issues of STTS Magazine? (This is only the eighth issue, but you never know..) For only $ 5.00 (count 'em - five dollars!) I'll send you all the back issues of STTS Mag as well as current issues of other magazines, and whatever other current, new shareware will fit onto a disk. Just send your $ 5.00 (money order or check please, US funds only, made payable to: Joe DeRouen) to: Joe DeRouen 3910 Farmville Dr. # 144 Addison, Tx. 75244 U.S.A. Tell me if you want a high density 5 1/4" disk or a high density 3 1/2" disk, please. (The following form is duplicated in the text file FORM.TXT, included with this archive) - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Enclosed is a check or money order (US funds only!) for $ 5.00. Please send me the back issues of STTS, the registered version of Quote!, and whatever else you can cram onto the disk. I want: [ ] 5.25" HD disk [ ] 3.5" HD disk Send to: ________________________________________ ________________________________________ ________________________________________ ________________________________________ Submission Information ---------------------- We're looking for a few good writers. Actually, we're looking for as many good writers as we can find. We're interested in fiction, poetry, reviews, feature articles (about most anything, as long as it's well-written), humour, essays, ANSI art, and RIP art. STTS is dedicated to showcasing as many talents as it can, in all forms and genres. We have no general "theme" aside from good writing, innovative concepts, and unique execution of those concepts. As of January 1st 1994, we've been PAYING for accepted submissions! In a bold move, STTS has decided to offer an incentive for writers to submit their works. For each accepted submission, an honorarium fee will be paid upon publication. Premium access to STTS BBS is also given to staff and contributing writers. In addition to the monthly payments, STTS will hold a twice-yearly "best of" contest, where the best published stories and articles in three categories will receive substantial cash prizes. These changes took effect in January of 1994, and the first twice-yearly awards will be presented in the July 1994 issue. Honorariums, twice-yearly cash awards, award winners selection processes, and Contributor BBS access is explained below: HONORARIUM Each and every article and story accepted for publication in STTS will received a cash honorarium. The payment is small and is meant as more of a token than something to reflect the value of the submission. As the magazine grows and brings in more money, the honorariums will increase, as will the twice-yearly award amounts. Fiction pieces pay an honorarium of $2.00 each. Poetry pieces pay an honorarium of $1.00 each Non-fiction* pieces pay an honorarium of $1.00 each You have the option of refusing your honorarium. Refused funds will be donated to the American Cancer Society. Staff members ARE eligible for honorariums. * Non-fiction includes any feature articles, humor, reviews, and anything else that doesn't fit into the fiction or poetry category. TWICE-YEARLY CASH AWARD Twice a year (every six months) the staff of STTS magazine will meet and vote on the stories, poems, and articles that have appeared in the last six issues of the magazine. Each staff member (the publisher included) gets one vote, and can use that vote on only one entry in each category. In the unlikely event of a tie, the winners will split the cash award. Winners will be announced in the July and January issues of the magazine. Anyone serving on the staff of STTS magazine is NOT eligible for the twice-yearly awards. Twice-Yearly prize amounts -------------------------- Fiction $50.00 Non-fiction 25.00 Poetry 25.00 The winner in each category does have the option of refusing his cash award. In the event of such a refusal, the entire sum of the refused cash awards will be donated to the American Cancer Society. STTS BBS Staff members and contributing writers will also receive level 40 access on Sunlight Through The Shadows BBS. Such access consists of 2 hrs. a day, unlimited download bytes per day, and no download/upload ratio. A regular user receives 1 hr. a day and has an download/upload ratio of 10:1. Staff and contributing writers also receive access to a special private STTS Staff conference on the BBS. LIMITATIONS STTS will still accept previously published stories and articles for publication. However, previously published submissions do NOT qualify for contention in the twice-yearly awards. Furthermore, previously published stories and articles will be paid at a 50% honorarium of the normal honorarium fee. RIGHTS The copyright of said material, of course, remains the sole property of the author. STTS has the right to present it once in a "showcase" format and in an annual "best of" issue. (a paper version as well as the elec. version) Acceptance of submitted material does NOT necessarily mean that it will appear in STTS. Submissions should be in 100% pure ASCII format, formatted for 80 columns. There are no limitations in terms of lengths of articles, but keep in mind it's a magazine, not a novel. Fiction and poetry will be handled on a pure submission basis, except in the case of any round-robin stories or continuing stories that might develop. Reviews will also be handled on a submission basis. If you're interested in doing a particular review medium (ie: books) on a full-time basis, let me know and we'll talk. ANSI art should be under 10k and can be about any subject as long as it's not pornographic. We'll feature ANSI art from time to time, as well as featuring a different ANSI "cover" for our magazine each month. In terms of articles, we're looking for just about anything that's of fairly general interest to the BBSing world at large. An article comparing several new high-speed modems would be appropriate, for example, whereas an article describing in detail how to build your own such modem really wouldn't be. Articles needn't be contained to the world of computing, either. Movies, politics, ecology, literature, entertainment, fiction, non-fiction, reviews - it's all fair game for STTS. Articles, again, will be handled on a submission basis. If anyone has an idea or two for a regular column, let me know. If it works, we'll incorporate it into STTS. Writers interested in contributing to Sunlight Through The Shadows can reach me through any of the following methods: Contact Points -------------- CompuServe - My E_Mail address is: 73654,1732 The Internet - My E_Mail address is: joe.derouen@chrysalis.org RIME - My NODE ID is SUNLIGHT or 5320. Send all files to this address. (you'll have to ask your SysOp who's carrying RIME to send it for you) Alternately, you can simply post it in either the Sunlight Through The Shadows Magazine, Common, Writers, or Poetry Corner conference to: Joe Derouen. If you put a ->5320 or ->SUNLIGHT in the top-most upper left-hand corner, it'll be routed directly to my BBS. Pen & Brush Net - Leave me a note or submission in either the Sunlight Through The Shadows Magazine conference, the Poetry Corner conference, or the Writers Conference. If your P&BNet contact is using PostLink, you can route the message to me automatically via the same way as described above for RIME. In either case, address all correspondence to: Joe derouen. WME Net - Leave me a note or submission in the Net Chat conference. Address all correspondence to: Joe Derouen. My BBS - Sunlight Through The Shadows. 12/24/96/14.4k baud. (214) 620-8793. You can upload submissions to the STTS Magazine file area, comment to the SysOp, or just about any other method you choose. Address all correspondence to: Joe Derouen. US Mail - Send disks (any size, IBM format ONLY) containing submissions to: Joe DeRouen 3910 Farmville Dr. # 144 Addison, Tx. 75244 U.S.A. Advertising ----------- Currently, STTS Mag is being "officially" carried by over 90 BBS's across the United States. It's also being carried by BBS's in the United Kingdom, Canada, Portugal, and Finland. Unofficially (which means that the SysOps haven't yet notifed me that they carry it) it's popped up on literally hundreds of BBS's across the USA as well as in other countries including the UK, Canada, Portugal, Ireland, Japan, The Netherlands, Scotland, and Saudi Arabia. It's also available via Internet, FIDO, RIME, and Pen & Brush Networks. Currently, STTS has about 10,000 readers worldwide and is available to literally millions of BBSers through the internet and other networks and BBS's. If you or your company want to expose your product to a variety of people all across the world, this is your opportunity! Advertising in Sunlight Through The Shadows Magazine is available in four different formats: 1) Personal Advertisements (NON-Business) ----------------------- Personal advertisements run $5.00 for 4 lines of advertising, with each additional line $1.00. Five lines is the minimum length. Your ad can be as little as one line, but the cost is still $5.00. Advertisements should be in ASCII and formatted for 80 columns. They should include whatever you're trying to sell (or buy) as well as a price and a method of contacting you. ANSI or RIP ads at this level will NOT be accepted. Business ads will NOT be accepted here. These ads are for non-business readers to advertise something they wish to sell or buy, or to advertise a non-profit event. BBS ads are considered business ads. 2) Regular Advertisement (Business or Personal) --------------------- We're accepting business advertisements in STTS. If you're interested in advertising in STTS, a full-page (ASCII or ASCII and ANSI) is $25.00/issue. Those interested can contact me by any of the means listed under Contact Points. If you purchase 5 months of advertising ($125.00) the sixth month is free. 3) Feature Advertisement (Business or Personal) --------------------- We'll include one feature ad per issue. The feature ad will pop up right after the magazine's ANSI cover, when the user first begins to read the magazine. This ad will also appear within the body of the magazine, for further perusement by the reader. A feature ad will run $50.00 per issue, and should be created in both ANSI and ASCII formats. If you purchase 5 months of advertising ($250.00) the sixth month is free. 4) BBS Advertisement (Business or Personal) ----------------- Many BBS SysOps and users call STTS BBS each month to get the current issue of STTS Magazine. These callers are from all over the USA as well as Canada, Portugal, the UK, and various other countries. Advertising is now available for the logoff screen of the BBS. The rates are $100.00 per month. Ads should be in both ASCII and ANSI format. We're accepting RIP ads as well, but only for the this advertising option. If you purchase 5 months of advertising ($500.00) the sixth month is free. Advertisement Specifications ---------------------------- Ads may be in as many as three formats. They MUST be in ascii text and may also be in ANSI and/or RIP Graphics formats. Ads should be no larger than 24 lines (ie: one screen/page) and ANSI ads should not use extensive animation. If you cannot make your own ad or do not have the time to make your own ad, we can make it for you. However, there is a one-time charge of $10.00 for this service. We will create ads in ASCII and ANSI only. If you absolutely need RIP ads and cannot create your own, we'll attempt to put you into contact with someone who can. Contact Points -------------- You can contact me through any of the following addresses. Sunlight Through The Shadows BBS (214) 620-8793 12/24/96/14,400 Baud CompuServe: 73654,1732 InterNet: joe.derouen@chrysalis.org Pen & Brush Net: ->SUNLIGHT P&BNet Conferences: Sunlight Through The Shadows Conference or any other conference WME Net: Net Chat conference PcRelay/RIME: ->SUNLIGHT RIME Conferences: Common, Writers, or Poetry Corner US Mail: Joe DeRouen 3910 Farmville Dr. # 144 Addison, Tx. 75244 U.S.A. You can always find STTS Magazine on the following BBS's. BBS's have STTS available for both on-line viewing and downloading unless otherwise marked. * = On-Line Only # = Download Only United States ------------- BBS Name ........... Sunlight Through The Shadows Location ........... Addison, Texas (in the Dallas area) SysOp(s) ........... Joe and Heather DeRouen Phone ........... (214) 620-8793 (14.4k baud) (Sorted by area code, then alphabetically) BBS Name ........... ModemNews Location ........... Stamford, Connecticut SysOp(s) ........... Jeff Green Phone ........... (203) 359-2299 (14.4k baud) BBS Name ........... Party Line, The Location ........... Birmingham, Alabama SysOp(s) ........... Anita Abney Phone ........... (205) 856-1336 (14.4k baud) BBS Name ........... Left-Hand Path, The Location ........... Seattle, Washington SysOp(s) ........... Mark Pruitt Phone ........... (206) 783-4668 (14.4k baud) # BBS Name ........... Lobster Buoy Location ........... Bangor, Maine SysOp(s) ........... Mark Goodwin Phone ........... (207) 941-0805 (14.4k baud) Phone ........... (207) 945-9346 (14.4k baud) BBS Name ........... Northern Maine BBS Location ........... Caribou, Maine SysOp(s) ........... David Collins Phone ........... (207) 496-2391 (14.4k baud) BBS Name ........... File-Link BBS Location ........... Manhattan, New York SysOp(s) ........... Bill Marcy Phone ........... (212) 777-8282 (14.4k baud) BBS Name ........... Poetry In Motion Location ........... New York, New York SysOp(s) ........... Inez Harrison Phone ........... (212) 666-6927 (14.4k baud) BBS Name ........... Wamblyville Location ........... Los Angeles, California SysOp(s) ........... John Borowski Phone ........... (213) 380-8090 (14.4k baud) BBS Name ........... Aaron's Beard BBS Location ........... Dallas, Texas SysOp(s) ........... Troy Wade Phone ........... (214) 557-2642 (14.4k baud) BBS Name ........... Archives On-line Location ........... Dallas, Texas SysOp(s) ........... David Pellecchia Phone ........... (214) 247-6512 (14.4k baud) Phone ........... (214) 406-8394 (14.4k baud) # BBS Name ........... BBS America Location ........... Dallas, Texas SysOp(s) ........... Jay Gaines Phone ........... (214) 680-3406 (9600 baud) Phone ........... (214) 680-1451 (9600 baud) BBS Name ........... Blue Banner BBS Location ........... Rowlett, Texas SysOp(s) ........... Richard Bacon Phone ........... (214) 475-8393 (14.4k baud) BBS Name ........... Blue Moon Location ........... Plano, Texas SysOp(s) ........... Roger Koppang Phone ........... (214) 985-1453 (14.4k baud) BBS Name ........... Bucket Bored! Location ........... Sachse, Texas SysOp(s) ........... Tim Bellomy Phone ........... (214) 414-6913 (14.4k baud) BBS Name ........... Chrysalis BBS Location ........... Dallas, Texas SysOp(s) ........... Garry Grosse Phone ........... (214) 690-9295 (2400 baud) Phone ........... (214) 783-5477 (9600 baud) # BBS Name ........... Collector's Edition Location ........... Dallas, Texas SysOp(s) ........... Len Hult Phone ........... (214) 351-9871 (14.4k baud) Phone ........... (214) 351-9871 (14.4k baud) BBS Name ........... Foreplay Online Location ........... Dallas, Texas SysOp(s) ........... Sean Goldsberry Phone ........... (214) 306-7493 (14.4k baud) BBS Name ........... New Age Visions Location ........... Grand Prairie, Texas SysOp(s) ........... Larry Joe Reynolds Phone ........... BBS Name ........... Old Poop's World Location ........... Dallas, Texas SysOp(s) ........... Sonny Grissom Phone ........... (214) 613-6900 (14.4k baud) BBS Name ........... Online Syndication Services BBS Location ........... Plano, Texas SysOp(s) ........... Don Lokke Phone ........... (214) 424-8425 (14.4k baud) BBS Name ........... Opa's Mini-BBS (open 11pm-7am CST) Location ........... Plano, Texas SysOp(s) ........... David Marshall Phone ........... (214) 424-0153 (2400 baud) BBS Name ........... Texas Talk Location ........... Richardson, Texas SysOp(s) ........... Sunnie Blair Phone ........... (214) 497-9100 (2400 baud) # BBS Name ........... User-2-User Location ........... Dallas, Texas SysOp(s) ........... William Pendergast and Kevin Carr Phone ........... (214) 393-4768 (14.4k baud) Phone ........... (214) 393-4736 (2400 baud) BBS Name ........... Deep 13 - MST3K Location ........... Levittown, Pennsylvania SysOp(s) ........... Mike Slusher Phone ........... (215) 943-9526 (14.4k baud) BBS Name ........... Beta Connection, The Location ........... Elkhart, Indiana SysOp(s) ........... David Reynolds Phone ........... (219) 293-6465 (14.4k baud) BBS Name ........... Bill & Hilary's BBS Location ........... Elkhart, Indiana SysOp(s) ........... Nancy VanWormer Phone ........... (219) 295-6206 (14.4k baud) BBS Name ........... FTB's Passport BBS Location ........... Frederick, Maryland SysOp(s) ........... Karina Wright Phone ........... (301) 662-9134 (14.4k baud) BBS Name ........... The "us" Project Location ........... Wilmington, Delaware SysOp(s) ........... Walt Mateja, PhD Phone ........... (302) 529-1650 (14.4k baud) BBS Name ........... Hole In the Wall, The Location ........... Parker, Colorado SysOp(s) ........... Mike Fergione Phone ........... (303) 841-5515 (16.8k baud) BBS Name ........... Right Angle BBS Location ........... Aurora, Colorado SysOp(s) ........... Bill Roark Phone ........... (303) 337-0219 (14.4k baud) BBS Name ........... Ruby's Joint Location ........... Miami, Florida SysOp(s) ........... David and Del Freeman Phone ........... (305) 856-4897 (14.4k baud) BBS Name ........... PUB Desktop Publishing BBS, The Location ........... Chicago, Illinois SysOp(s) ........... Steve Gjondla Phone ........... (312) 767-5787 (9600 baud) BBS Name ........... O & E Online Location ........... Livoign, Michigan SysOp(s) ........... Greg Day Phone ........... (313) 591-0903 (14.4 k baud) BBS Name ........... Family Connection, The Location ........... St. Louis, Missouri SysOp(s) ........... John Askew Phone ........... (314) 544-4628 (14.4k baud) BBS Name ........... Pegasus BBS Location ........... Owensboro, Kentucky SysOp(s) ........... Raymond Clements Phone ........... (317) 651-0234 (14.4k baud) BBS Name ........... Puma Wildcat BBS Location ........... Alexandria, Louisiana SysOp(s) ........... Chuck McMillin Phone ........... (318) 443-1065 (14.4k baud) BBS Name ........... Badger's "BYTE", The Location ........... Valentine, Nebraska SysOp(s) ........... Dick Roosa Phone ........... (402) 376-3120 (14.4k baud) BBS Name ........... Megabyte Mansion, The Location ........... Omaha, Nebraska SysOp(s) ........... Todd Robbins Phone ........... (402) 551-8681 (14.4k baud) BBS Name ........... College Board, The Location ........... West Palm Beach, Florida SysOp(s) ........... Charles Bell Phone ........... (407) 731-1675 (14.4k baud) BBS Name ........... Treasures Location ........... Longwood, Florida SysOp(s) ........... Jim Daly Phone ........... (407) 831-9130 (14.4k baud) BBS Name ........... Flying Dutchman, The Location ........... San Jose, California SysOp(s) ........... Chris Von Motz Phone ........... (408) 294-3065 (14.4k baud) BBS Name ........... Matrix Online Service Location ........... San Jose, California SysOp(s) ........... Daryl Perry Phone ........... (408) 265-4660 (14.4k baud) BBS Name ........... Aries Knowledge Systems Location ........... Baltimore, Maryland SysOp(s) ........... Waddell Robey Phone ........... (410) 625-0109 (14.4k baud) BBS Name ........... Doppler Base BBS Location ........... Baltimore, Maryland SysOp(s) ........... Dan Myers Phone ........... (410) 922-1352 (14.4k baud) BBS Name ........... Port EINSTEIN Location ........... Catonsville, Maryland SysOp(s) ........... John P. Lynch Phone ........... (410) 744-4692 (14.4k baud) BBS Name ........... Puffin's Nest, The Location ........... Pasadena, Maryland SysOp(s) ........... Dave Bealer Phone ........... (410) 437-3463 (16.8k baud) BBS Name ........... Robin's Nest BBS Location ........... Glen Burnie, Maryland SysOp(s) ........... Robin Kirkey Phone ........... (410) 766-9756 (2400 baud) BBS Name ........... Chatterbox Lounge and Hotel, The Location ........... Penn Hills, Pennsylvania SysOp(s) ........... James Robert Lunsford Phone ........... (412) 795-4454 (14.4k baud) BBS Name ........... Signal Hill BBS Location ........... Springfield, Massachusettes SysOp(s) ........... Edwin Thompson Phone ........... (413) 782-2158 (14.4k baud) BBS Name ........... Exec-PC Location ........... Elm Grove, Wisconsin SysOp(s) ........... Bob Mahoney Phone ........... (414) 789-4210 (2400 baud) Phone ........... (414) 789-4315 (9600 baud) Phone ........... (414) 789-4360 (14.4k baud) BBS Name ........... First Step BBS, The Location ........... Green Bay, Wisconsin SysOp(s) ........... Mark Phillips Phone ........... (414) 499-7471 (14.4k baud) BBS Name ........... Lincoln's Cabin BBS Location ........... San Francisco, California SysOp(s) ........... Steve Pomerantz Phone ........... (415) 752-4490 (14.4k baud) BBS Name ........... Uncle "D"s Discovery Location ........... Redwood City, California SysOp(s) ........... Dave Spensley Phone ........... (415) 364-3001 (14.4k baud) BBS Name ........... File Cabinet BBS, The Location ........... White Hall, Arkansas SysOp(s) ........... Bob Harmon Phone ........... (501) 247-1141 (14.4k baud) BBS Name ........... Starting Gate, The Location ........... Louisville, Kentucky SysOp(s) ........... Ed Clifford Phone ........... (502) 423-9629 (14.4k baud) BBS Name ........... Darkside BBS, The Location ........... Independence, Oregon SysOp(s) ........... Seth Able Robinson Phone ........... (503) 838-6171 (14.4k baud) BBS Name ........... Last Byte, The Location ........... Alamogordo, New Mexico SysOp(s) ........... Robert Sheffield Phone ........... (505) 437-0060 (14.4k baud) BBS Name ........... Leisure Time BBS Location ........... Alamogordo, New Mexico SysOp(s) ........... Bob Riddell Phone ........... (505) 434-6940 (14.4k baud) BBS Name ........... Base Line BBS Location ........... Peabody, Massachusettes SysOp(s) ........... Steve Keith Phone ........... (508) 535-0446 (14.4k baud) BBS Name ........... High Society BBS Location ........... Beverly, Massachusettes SysOp(s) ........... Chuck Frieser Phone ........... (508) 927-3757 (14.4k baud) BBS Name ........... High Water Mark, The Location ........... Wareham, Massachusettes SysOp(s) ........... Joseph Leggett Phone ........... (508) 295-6557 (14.4k baud) BBS Name ........... PandA's Den BBS Location ........... Danvers, Massachusettes SysOp(s) ........... Patrick Rosenheim Phone ........... (508) 750-0250 (14.4k baud) BBS Name ........... SoftWare Creations Location ........... Clinton, Massachusettes SysOp(s) ........... Dan Linton Phone ........... (508) 368-7036 (14.4k baud) BBS Name ........... Extreme OnLine Location ........... Spokane, Washington SysOp(s) ........... Jim Holderman Phone ........... (509) 487-5303 (14.4k baud) BBS Name ........... Silicon Garden, The Location ........... Selden, New York SysOp(s) ........... Andy Keeves Phone ........... (516) 736-6662 (14.4k baud) BBS Name ........... Appomattox BBS, The Location ........... New Lebanon, New York SysOp(s) ........... Dan Everette Phone ........... (518) 766-5144 (14.4k baud dual standard) BBS Name ........... Integrity Online Location ........... Schenectady, New York SysOp(s) ........... Dan Ginsburg, Jordan Feinman, Dave Garvey Phone ........... (518) 370-8758 (14.4k baud) Phone ........... (518) 370-8756 (2400 baud) BBS Name ........... Tidal Wave BBS Location ........... Altamont, New York SysOp(s) ........... Josh Perfetto Phone ........... (518) 861-6645 (14.4k baud) BBS Name ........... Mission Control BBS Location ........... Flagstaff, Arizona SysOp(s) ........... Kevin Echstenkamper Phone ........... (602) 527-1854 (14.4k baud) BBS Name ........... Chopping Block, The Location ........... Claremont, New Hampshire SysOp(s) ........... Dana Richmond Phone ........... (603) 543-0865 (14.4k baud) BBS Name ........... Casino Bulletin Board, The Location ........... Atlantic City, New Jersey SysOp(s) ........... Dave Schubert Phone ........... (609) 561-3377 (14.4k baud) BBS Name ........... Princessland BBS Location ........... Wenonah, New Jersey SysOp(s) ........... Pamela & Rick Forsythe Phone ........... (609) 464-1421 (2400 baud) BBS Name ........... Revision Systems Location ........... Lawrenceville, New Jersey SysOp(s) ........... Paul Lauda Phone ........... (609) 896-3256 (14.4k baud) BBS Name ........... Hangar 18 Location ........... Columbus, Ohio SysOp(s) ........... Bob Dunlap Phone ........... (614) 488-2314 (14.4k baud) BBS Name ........... Channel 1 Location ........... Cambridge, Massachusettes SysOp(s) ........... Brian Miller Phone ........... (617) 354-3230 (14.4k baud) Phone ........... (617) 354-3137 (16.8k HST) # BBS Name ........... Arts Place BBS, The Location ........... Arlington, Virginia SysOp(s) ........... Ron Fitzherbert Phone ........... (703) 528-8467 (14.4k baud) BBS Name ........... Bubba Systems One Location ........... Manassas, Virginia SysOp(s) ........... Mark Mosko Phone ........... (703) 335-1253 (14.4k baud) BBS Name ........... Market Hotline, The Location ........... Rodford, Virginia SysOp(s) ........... Steve Mintun Phone ........... (703) 633-2178 (28.8k baud) BBS Name ........... Pen and Brush BBS Location ........... Burke, Virginia SysOp(s) ........... Lucia and John Chambers Phone ........... (703) 644-6730 (300-12.0k baud) Phone ........... (703) 644-5196 (14.4k baud) # BBS Name ........... Sidewayz BBS Location ........... Fairfax, Virginia SysOp(s) ........... Paul Cutrona Phone ........... (703) 352-5412 (14.4k baud) BBS Name ........... Virginia Connection, The Location ........... Washington, District of Columbia SysOp(s) ........... Tony McClenny Phone ........... (703) 648-1841 (14.4k baud) BBS Name ........... Vivid Images Press Syndicate Location ........... Wise, Virginia SysOp(s) ........... David Allio Phone ........... (703) 328-6915 (14.4k baud) BBS Name ........... Imperial Palace, The Location ........... Augusta, Georiga SysOp(s) ........... Michael Deutsch Phone ........... (706) 592-1344 (14.4k baud) BBS Name ........... Zarno Board Location ........... Martinez, Georiga SysOp(s) ........... Tim Saari Phone ........... (706) 860-7927 (14.4k baud) BBS Name ........... Anathema Downs Location ........... Sonoma County, California SysOp(s) ........... Sadie Jane Phone ........... (707) 792-1555 (14.4k baud) BBS Name ........... Happy Trails Location ........... Orange, California SysOp(s) ........... Don Inglehart Phone ........... (714) 547-0719 (14.4k baud) BBS Name ........... InfoMat BBS Location ........... San Clemente, California SysOp(s) ........... Michael Gibbs Phone ........... (714) 492-8727 (14.4k baud) BBS Name ........... Cool Baby BBS Location ........... York, Pennsylvania SysOp(s) ........... Mark Krieg Phone ........... (717) 751-0855 (19.2k baud) BBS Name ........... T&J Software BBS Location ........... Jim Thorpe, Pennsylvania SysOp(s) ........... Tom Wildoner Phone ........... (717) 325-9481 (14.4k baud) BBS Name ........... Ice Box BBS, The Location ........... Kew Gardens Hills, New York SysOp(s) ........... Darren Klein Phone ........... (718) 793-8548 (14.4k baud) BBS Name ........... Systemic BBS Location ........... Bronx, New York SysOp(s) ........... Mufutau Towobola Phone ........... (718) 716-6198 (14.4k baud) Phone ........... (718) 716-6341 (14.4k baud) BBS Name ........... Paradise City BBS Location ........... St. George, Utah SysOp(s) ........... Steve & Marva Cutler Phone ........... (801) 628-4212 (14.4k baud) BBS Name ........... Regulator, The Location ........... Charleston, South Carolina SysOp(s) ........... Steve Coker Phone ........... (803) 571-1100 (14.4k baud) BBS Name ........... Straight Board, The Location ........... Virginia Beach, Virginia SysOp(s) ........... Ray Sulich Phone ........... (804) 468-6454 (14.4k baud) Phone ........... (804) 468-6528 (14.4k baud) BBS Name ........... TDOR#2 Location ........... Charlottesville, Virginia SysOp(s) ........... David Short Phone ........... (804) 973-5639 (14.4k baud) BBS Name ........... Valley BBS, The Location ........... Myakka City, Florida SysOp(s) ........... Larry Daymon Phone ........... (813) 322-2589 (14.4k baud) BBS Name ........... Syllables Location ........... Fort Myers, Florida SysOp(s) ........... Jackie Jones Phone ........... (813) 482-5276 (14.4k baud) # BBS Name ........... Renaissance BBS Location ........... Arlington, Texas SysOp(s) ........... David Pollard Phone ........... (817) 467-7322 (9600 baud) # BBS Name ........... Second Sanctum Location ........... Arlington, Texas SysOp(s) ........... Mark Robbins Phone ........... (817) 784-1178 (2400 baud) Phone ........... (817) 784-1179 (14.4k baud) BBS Name ........... Dream Land BBS Location ........... Destin, Florida SysOp(s) ........... Ron James Phone ........... (904) 837-2567 (14.4k baud) BBS Name ........... Hurry No Mo BBS Location ........... Citra, Florida SysOp(s) ........... Roy Fralick Phone ........... (904) 595-5057 (14.4k baud) BBS Name ........... Star Fire Location ........... Jacksonville, Florida SysOp(s) ........... Bruce Allan Phone ........... (904) 260-8825 (14.4k baud) BBS Name ........... Tree BBS, The Location ........... Ocala, Florida SysOp(s) ........... Frank Fowler Phone ........... (904) 732-0866 (14.4k baud) Phone ........... (904) 732-8273 (14.4k baud) BBS Name ........... Outlands, The Location ........... Ketchikan, Alaska SysOp(s) ........... Mike Gates Phone ........... (907) 225-1219 (14.4k baud) Phone ........... (907) 225-1220 (14.4k baud) Phone ........... (907) 247-4733 (14.4k baud) BBS Name ........... Moonbase Alpha BBS Location ........... Bahama, North Carolina SysOp(s) ........... Steven Wright Phone ........... (919) 471-4547 (14.4k baud) BBS Name ........... Outlands, The Location ........... Ketchikan, Alaska SysOp(s) ........... Mike Gates Phone ........... (907) 247-4733 (14.4k baud) Phone ........... (907) 225-1219 (14.4k baud) Phone ........... (907) 225-1220 (14.4k baud) BBS Name ........... Legend Graphics OnLine Location ........... Riverside, California SysOp(s) ........... Joe Marquez Phone ........... (909) 689-9229 (14.4k baud) BBS Name ........... Locksoft BBS Location ........... San Jacinto, California SysOp(s) ........... Carl Curling Phone ........... (909) 654-LOCK (14.4k baud) BBS Name ........... Image Center, The Location ........... Ardsley, New York SysOp(s) ........... Larry Clive Phone ........... (914) 693-9100 (14.4k baud) BBS Name ........... SB Online, Inc. Location ........... Larchmont, New York SysOp(s) ........... Eric Speer Phone ........... (914) 723-4010 (14.4k baud) Canada ------ BBS Name ........... Canada Remote Systems Online Location ........... Toronto Ontario, Canada SysOp(s) ........... Rick Munro Phone ........... (416) 213-6002 (14.4k baud) BBS Name ........... Source-Online Location ........... British Columbia, Canada SysOp(s) ........... Chris Barrett Phone ........... (604) 758-4643 (14.4k baud) BBS Name ........... Encode Online Location ........... Orillia Ontario, Canada SysOp(s) ........... Peter Ellis Phone ........... (705) 327-7629 (14.4k baud) BBS Name ........... Beasley's Den Location ........... Mississauga Ontario, Canada SysOp(s) ........... Keith Gulik Phone ........... (905) 949-1587 (9600 baud) United Kingdom -------------- BBS Name ........... Hangar BBS, The Location ........... Avon, England, United Kingdom SysOp(s) ........... Jason Hyland Phone ........... +44-934-511751 (14.4k baud) BBS Name ........... Pandora's Box BBS Location ........... Brookmans Park, England, United Kingdom SysOp(s) ........... Dorothy Gibbs Phone ........... +44-707-664778 (14.4k baud) BBS Name ........... Almac BBS Location ........... Grangemouth, Scotland, United Kingdom SysOp(s) ........... Alastair McIntyre Phone ........... +44-324-665371 (14.4k baud) Finland ------- BBS Name ........... Niflheim BBS Location ........... Mariehamn, Aaland Islands, Finland SysOp(s) ........... Kurtis Lindqvist Phone ........... +358-28-17924 (16.8k baud) Phone ........... +358-28-17424 (14.4k baud) Portugal -------- BBS Name .......... Intriga Internacional Location .......... Queluz, Portugal SysOp(s) .......... Afonso Vicente Phone .......... +351-1-4352629 (16.8k baud) BBS Name .......... B-Link BBS Location .......... Lisbon, Portugal SysOp(s) .......... Antonio Jorge Phone .......... +351-1-4919755 (14.4k baud) BBS Name ........... Mailhouse Location ........... Loures, Portugal SysOp(s) ........... Carlos Santos Phone ........... +351-1-9890140 (14.4k baud) South America ------------- BBS Name ........... Message Centre, The (Open 18:00 - 06:00 local) Location ........... Itaugua, Paraguay SysOp(s) ........... Prof. Michael Slater Phone ........... +011-595-28-2154 (2400 baud) Saudi Arabia ------------ BBS Name ........... Sahara BBS Location ........... Dammam City SysOp(s) ........... Kais Al-Essa Phone ........... +966-3-833-2082 (16.8k baud) SysOp: To have *your* BBS listed here, write me via one of the many ways listed under CONTACT POINTS elsewhere in this issue. STTS Net Report Copyright (c) 1994, Joe DeRouen All rights reserved Sunlight Through The Shadows Magazine is available through FIDO, INTERNET, RIME, and PEN & BRUSH NET. Check below for information on how to request the current issue of the magazine or be put on the monthly mailing list. FIDO To get the newest issue of the magazine via FIDO, you'll need to do a file request from Fido Node 1:124/8010 using the "magic" name of SUNLIGHT. INTERNET To get on the STTS mailing list, do the following: Send internet mail message to: STTS-REQUEST%textalk@egsner.cirr.com With either the following in the body: ADD SUBSCRIBE JOIN To be added to the list or: UNSUBSCRIBE DELETE REMOVE To be removed from the list. If you're a SysOp *Please* be sure to send me a note telling me your BBS's name, your name, your state and city, the BBS's phone number(s) and it's baud rate(s) so I can include you in the list issue's distribution list. Send the note to: Joe.DeRouen@Chryalis.ORG If you wish to FTPMAIL request the magazine, please send mail to: FTPMAIL%textalk@egsner.cirr.com With the following in the body: GET Where would be SUN9408.ZIP or whatever issue you're wanting to retrieve. The current issue available will correspond to whatever month you're in. Septemeber 1994 would be SUN9409.ZIP, etc. RIME To request the magazine via RIME, ask your RIME SysOp to do a file request from node # 5320 for the current issue (eg: sun9408.ZIP, or whatever month you happen to be in) Better yet, ask your SysOp to request to be put on the monthly mailing list and receive STTS automatically. PEN & BRUSH NET To request via P&BNet, follow the instructions for RIME above. They're both ran on Postlink and operate exactly the same way in terms of file requests and transfers. I'd like to thank Texas Talk BBS and Archives On-Line BBS for allowing me to access the Internet and Fido (respectively) from their systems. End Notes Copyright (c) 1994, Joe DeRouen All rights reserved Lately, I've been playing in MUDs (Multi-User Dungeons) on the internet. Couple that with the fact that I'm not writing for Computer Currents magazine and have been extremely busy with some non-computer related stuff as well and you have the reason why the magazine is late. It's also a decent reason as to why the endnotes doesn't say much. Ah well. There's always next month! Joe DeRouen, Sept. 10th 1994