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Sunlight Through The Shadows 1994 12
Sunlight Through The Shadows
Volume II, Issue 11 Nov/Dec 1994
Welcome........................................Joe DeRouen
Editorial: Excuses, Excuses....................Joe DeRouen
Staff of STTS.............................................
Special Survey for STTS Readers...........................
>> --------------- Monthly Columns ---------------------<<
STTS Mailbag..............................................
Quick Tips and Fixes...........................Joe DeRouen
The Sports Page............................Thomas Van Hook
ÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿÿ Advertisement-Channel 1 BBS
>> --------------- Feature Articles --------------------<<
Interview with Will Bunker of IOS...........L. Shawn Aiken
Waterlogged Klingons........................L. Shawn Aiken
ÿ Advertisement-Exec-PC BBS
>> ------------------- Reviews -------------------------<<
(Software) Ansichek v7.0..................Louis Turbeville
(Music) Beavis and Butthead Experience.....Thomas Van Hook
(Music) Christmas Album/Amy Grant..........Thomas Van Hook
(Music) The Visit/Loreena McKennit.........Thomas Van Hook
(Music) The Sign/Ace of Base...............Thomas Van Hook
(Music) Abba-esque/Erasure.................Thomas Van Hook
(Movie) Star Trek: Generations...............Bruce Diamond
(Movie) Love Affair..........................Bruce Diamond
(Movie) Capsule Reviews......................Bruce Diamond
(Movie) More Capsule Reviews.................Bruce Diamond
(Book) Druids/Morgan Llywelyn.............Thomas Van Hook
(Book) Our game: Baseball/Alexander.......Thomas Van Hook
(Book) Pegasus in Flight/Anne McCaffrey...Thomas Van Hook
(Book) Lodge of the Lynx/Kurtz & Harris...Thomas Van Hook
(Book) The Lady/Anne McCaffrey............Thomas Van Hook
ÿ Advertisement-T&J Software
>> ------------------- Fiction -------------------------<<
The Tinkerbells...................................Ed Davis
This Little Piggy..............................Robin Aiken
ÿ Advertisement-Chrysalis BBS
>> ------------------- Poetry --------------------------<<
Where Love Resides..................................Tamara
The Side Show..............................Daniel Sendecki
Something Gold.................................J. Guenther
Sex On the Beach..............................Sean Donahue
Skipping Stones Across the Sands of Time...Thomas Van Hook
What is Love?.................................Jeremy Yocum
Afterbirth....................................Debbie Burns
>> ------------------- Humour --------------------------<<
Top Ten List...................................Joe DeRouen
>> --------------- Advertisements ----------------------<<
Channel 1 BBS
Exec-PC BBS
T&J Software
Chrysalis BBS
>> ----------------- 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
Happy Holidays from . . . Nov/Dec 1994
Vol II, No. 11
Sunlight Through The Shadows(tm) Magazine!
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ß ÛÜßßß ÜÜ ßß ßßßÛÛÛÜ ÛÜÜ ßÛÛÛÛÜÜ ß ÜÛß ÜÛß Ü ÜÜÛÛßß ß ß ßßß ß ßßß
ßß ßÛÛÛÛ ß ßßßßßßß ßß ßßßßßßß Û ÜÛß ÜÛß ßßßßß
ßßßßßß ßßßßßßßß
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: Excuses, Excuses . . .
Copyright (c) 1994, Joe DeRouen
All rights reserved
The Following is a true story. Completely, 100% true. It explains
Sunlight Through The Shadow's absence from the electronic magazine racks
for the last month. Read it at your own risk.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
At approximately 11:05pm on Oct. 31st, 1994, the offices of Sunlight
Through The Shadows were broken into. Dozens of masked ninjas carrying
word processor and workgroups for windows were immediately upon us,
forcing us to the ground, ordering us to cover our heads with our hands.
They quickly bound and gagged us, ordering us to stay as quiet and
motionless as possible. Being scared for our lives, of course we
complied.
The operation was flawless. They were in and out inside of two minutes
flat. No computers were stolen. The CD collection was left intact.
Upon first inspection (after I managed to wriggle free from my bonds)
I'd curiously thought they'd failed to take anything. Moments later,
I'd managed to free my companions of their bonds as well.
Confused and in shock, we stumbled to our collective feet, checked each
other for fatalities (there were none) and breathed a deep sigh of
relief.
Further inspection, though, revealed the awful, horrific truth: they'd
made copies of the current magazine - hours before distribution was to
begin! - and erased it from the hard drive. A month's worth of work,
gone. Like a wisp of smoke. Destroyed.
"The Bastards!" Yelled Assistant Editor Shawn Aiken, immediately
reaching for his illegal copy of Word Perfect 6.1. Loading the
formidable weapon in less time than it takes most people to say
"Putaki", Shawn was almost out the door and after our assailants before
I managed to grab his shoulder and spin him around.
"Shawn, man, it's not worth it." I explained to him. "These guys
could've killed us, and all they took was the magazine. Let it be."
"But we put so much work into this!" He growled. "My twelve part essay
on the explanation of the beginning of life! The first chapter in that
new novel you just sold to Doubleday for 1.2 million!"
"My lengthy and verbose analyzation of all of Shakespeare's sonnets and
poems. . ." Chimed in house poet Tamara.
"My reviews of the last fifty years in movies, complete with footnotes
and biographies on every actor and actress that appeared in each movie,
down to the guy that got killed in the opening scene of the rarely
viewed thriller GOOD GUYS DON'T WEAR POLYESTER. . ." Added Bruce
Diamond, our erstwhile movie critic.
"What about MY work?" Interjected Heather DeRouen, face in tears. "I'd
finally completed the essay that would cure all diseases, end nuclear
build up, and put a chicken in every pot. And it's gone! All gone!"
All eyes turned to the door, upon which a soft knock was heard to
emanate.
"Was that a soft knock emanating from the door?" I asked, instantly
knowing it was.
"I think it was." Answered Shawn, his ire gone for the moment. "Well,
maybe we should answer it."
"What if it's those ninjas back to finish the job?" Trembled Bruce,
brandishing a pair of deadly spiked movie passes. "They won't get away
with this."
The knock rang through again, accompanied by a voice: "Joe, it's me.
Tommy. Got room in the magazine for a few reviews and sports articles?
I know it's late, but. . ."
I ran to the door, swept it upon, and pulled Tommy Van Hook inside.
"How many reviews, Tommy, how many reviews?" I asked him, madness
creeping into my voice.
Backing up, looking confused, he managed a half-smile. "Four or five.
And some poetry too. And a couple of sports articles. And . . ."
His words were cut off by the group hug that ensued, as we all ran to
embrace the last minute gift from the god of electronic magazines.
"Yes, we have room!" I exclaimed, thinking that, with Tommy's material,
we just might recoup and be able to put out a double issue in time for
December!
"I'm the God of Electronic Magazine's gift?" Smiled Tommy, drowning in the
arms of our affection. "Cool."
"He didn't actually *say* that." Heather said. "Look up. He only
*thought* it. We wouldn't want you to get too big of a head."
Tamara smiled, and nodded. "You know, for this timely intervention we
should probably make Tommy a member of the staff."
"I second that motion!" Yelled Bruce, putting away his deadly spiked
movie passes.
"Done!" I smiled, laying hands on the surprised Mr. Van Hook. A ball
of blue light moved down my arm, swelled, and entered into the new
Poetry Editor's chest. After that, things were never the same.
We won't get into Sunlight Through The Shadow's recent application for
bankruptcy due to Tommy's demands of exorbitant fees, nor shall we get
into who was ultimately behind the ninja's theft. That shall remain
another story, for another time.
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
Thomas Van Hook........................Poetry Editor
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?)
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.
Contributing Writers
--------------------
Robin Aiken............................Fiction
Debbie Burns...........................Poetry
Ed Davis...............................Fiction
Sean A. Donahue........................Poetry
J. Guenther............................Poetry
Dale E. Lehman.........................Fiction
Daniel Sendecki........................Fiction, Poetry
Louis Turbeville.......................Software Reviews
Jeremy Yocum...........................Poetry
Robin Aiken is an aspiring biologist who wants to write the poignant
story of a young boy and his genetically engineered fungus entitled
Skippy and the Slime Mold of Death. She is still in college and has
never published anything (but she has written some mighty fine
limmericks on the bathroom walls of your finer eating establishments).
Her hobbies include watching the X-files and sympathizing with Fox
Mulder, collecting turnips that resemble various politicians,
attempting to eat her own weight in chocolate at least once a year,
plotting to take over the world, and spreading happiness and joy to
all those who deserve it. That's all she wrote.
Debbie Burns resides in Howe, Texas, on the far edge of reality. Her
days are filled with reading, rollerblading, and picking smashed bits
of Cheerios from the carpet after her twins have gone to bed. Debbie
attended Arkansas College for one year and intends to return to
college in Austin when her daughters are in school. Planning her
upcoming marriage to Maggie and Kate's father is a time-consuming but,
she comments, "it sure is less frustrating than changing two diapers
at once!"
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).
At the tender age of 35, Dale E. Lehman is already a veteran systems
analyst, father, zookeeper, and rejection slip collector. He
specializes in SF, fantasy, and mysteries, with one completed novel
looking for an agent, four fragmentary novels in progress, and oodles
of short stories all crammed into a tiny filing cabinet. With the
help of his personal editor/reference librarian/wife, he is not only
supporting a writing habit but also five children, one dog, and a
wildly fluctuating number of demon cats. He ap plies any leftover
time to reading and playing chess--not generally at the sam e time,
though.
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.
Louis Turbeville currently works as a computer analyst for the Air
Force. He's originally from Hawaii (about an 1/8 Hawaiian <everyone
seems to ask>) 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. <G> 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.
Jeremy Yocum suffers daily from pain and torture forced upon him by
the government, by means of a horrid torture device known as Public
School. (Never get School and Education mixed up--the two have very
little to do with one another) Writing is only one of the many ways,
and not even the foremost, for him to escape into the real world.
Jeremy also sings in the school choir at Newman Smith High School,
plays guitar in a Christian band known as Presence, and then fiddles
in his spare time with writing and visual art. Every once in a while,
when he feels he has truly written something half worthy to be
published, he humbly submits his amateur work to Joe DeRouen. None of
his works have ever previously been published.
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.
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1. Name: _____________________________________________________________
2. Mailing address: __________________________________________________
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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)
___________________________________________________________________
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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?
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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?
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11. What do you enjoy LEAST about STTS Mag?
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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 ___
The Sports Page --- My View --- STTS BBS News ---
RIP Coverart ___ Misc. Info ---
13. What would you like to see (or see more of) in future issues
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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
STTS Mailbag
Copyright (c) 1994, Joe DeRouen
All rights reserved
Joe,
Where's the november issue of STTS? I've looked everywhere and I can't
seem to find it! Is it still being published? Please write me and let
me know!
Thanks,
Karen Brock-Anderson
Chicago, Il.
(I've already written you back, Karen. But for those who were
wondering the same thing, check out this month's editorial. It's
all true. 100%. <G> -Ed.)
========================================================================
Dear Editor;
I used to be overweight, have pimples, and live the life of a hermit.
Then I discovered Sunlight Through The Shadows. It has changed my life.
I'm now a Paris high fashion model earning over a million dollars a
year. I'm also engaged to one of the Kennedys. (Discretion prevents me
from saying which one.)
Thank you for changing my life.
Sincerely,
Janna Finkelstein
Paris, France
(This is a real letter. We think it's a joke, but you never know for
sure. Thanks for writing, Janna! If nothing else, you amused us
greatly! -Ed.)
========================================================================
QUICK TIPS AND FIXES
Copyright (c) 1994, Joe DeRouen
All rights reserved
[Originally published in Dec. issue of Computer Currents Magazine]
If you're having a problem you just can't seem to solve, a question you
want answered, or just an inherent need to bend a lonely writer's ear,
you've come to the right place. Response has been great! Keep those
cards and letters coming, folks. But, please, don't send cash.
Q: Which CD-ROM drive should I buy? I have a 50 Mhz 80486 and would
really like to try out some of those CDs I've been hearing about.
The triple-speed CD-ROM drive sounds better, of course, but it's also
about three times the price of the single-speed version. Should I go
between the two and get a double-speed? Is there really that big of
a difference?
Brad Landsbaum
Farmer's Branch, Texas
A: Actually, there is. In this particular case, the old axiom of
"buy the very best you can afford" rings true. Single-speed
systems are outdated and should be avoided altogether. They
won't run a lot of the newer CDs out there or, if they do,
performance time will be drastically reduced. There's very few
packages that won't run on a double-speed system, but, once again,
you can suffer speed problems if your disk is particulary
read-intensive.
If you can afford it, buy the triple-speed CD-ROM drive. You won't
have any problems running your CDs, and you'll be state of the art
for at least a week or two. There's always something better on the
horizon, but if we all waited and waited we'd still be shooting
asteroids on our Atari 2600s.
Q: I've managed to subscribe to some lists and electronic magazines
through the Internet, and some of them seem to come through okay,
but others come through in this strange hieroglyphic-like state
of being. The message that accompanies the file says it's been
encoded.
Linda Anne Smith
Ft. Worth, Texas
A: Ah, the Internet. So large. So many resources. So confusing. Most
files transferred through the internet can't be carried as-is, and
need to be converted from binary code into ASCII. That's where
UUENCODE.EXE comes in. UUENCODE takes the file, converts it to an
ASCII representation of the binary file, and prepares it for travel
via Internet electronic mail. Unless your system is set up to
automatically decode incoming files (some are) you'll wind up with a
file you have absolutely no idea what to do with.
How do you decode the file into something useful? UUDECODE.EXE, of
course. UUDECODE is the companion to UUENCODE, and extremely vital
if you plan to subscribe to lists or FTP through Internet e-mail.
Execute the program from the DOS command line for instructions on
it's use. While it's uses are indeed many, it isn't too hard to
learn the tricks of using UUDECODE. If you can't find the file
on your local BBS or Internet site, please feel welcome to download
it from the "Free Files" section of STTS BBS. The phone number is,
as always, at the end of the column.
Q: Everyone keeps telling me I need to optimize my hard drive. I have
no idea how to do this, or even what it is. Please, help me.
Robin Bryant
Grand Prairie, Texas
A: Optimizing (defragging, defragmenting, etc.) your hard drive is
amazingly simple, and definitely something you need to do at least
a couple times a month. But I digress.
First, an explanation. When you write files to your hard drive, it
does everything on a first-come first-served basis. Whatever sectors
happen to be available to be used are the ones your computer uses.
Straightforward enough so far. The reason for optimization lies in
exactly how those bits and bytes are stored. When you delete, for
example, a 500k file, 500k of space becomes available for use on your
hard disk. Let's imagine that you then download a 1 meg GIF of your
favorite supermodel from your local Mega BBS. Your system saves the
first 500k of that GIF to the aforementioned free space and writes
the rest of the file to the next available space - more than likely
not together. This doesn't really hurt anything, but it does slow
down load time and file access to the hard drive. Over time, with
files stored haphazardly all over your disk, it can cause problems
and severely affect your system's performance.
You need to optimize your hard drive a couple of times a month, more
as a preventative measure than anything else. Optimizing scans your
disk and moves the files to contiguous sectors, thus saving valuable
seconds in loading and access time and, more importantly, safeguards
against even worse fragmentation in the future.
DOS comes with a file called DEFRAG.EXE. Use this or one of the
commercial Hard Disk tool packages (NORTON UTILITIES or PC TOOLS)
and you shouldn't have any problems. Follow the on-line instructions
and your hard drive should be frag-free in no time!
Are you having a problem with your computer? Write to Joe at Computer
Currents or via Sunlight Through The Shadows BBS at 214/620-8793.
(c) 1994 Joe DeRouen. All rights reserved.
The Sports Page
Copyright (c) 1994, Tommy Van Hook
All rights reserved
Welcome to yet another edition of the Sunlght Through The Shadows
Sports Page! It's a strange world out there in sports, so let's
all pretend to understand it, shall we?
Let us start in the defunct world of Major League Baseball.
Interesting enough, the have been now major developments
concerning the strike that has cost the fans the enjoyment of a
World Series in 1994. Owners and players seem to be very
uninterested in speaking with one another during this off-season
period, which has prompted the Federal Government to officially
step in as a mediator. Let's just hope that the Clinton
administration doesn't screw these talks up as bad as they
screwed up the Haitian situation. Then again, you never know.
Most of the teams are opting players that are in the last year of
their contract to the minor leagues. Most players are refusing
the assignment, thus designating themselves as unrestricted free
agents.
We continue our trek through the sweaty socks of the jock world
with a stop in the world of Football. Personally, I don't really
care for this sport, but I'll give a brief run-down anyway. If
you had doubts about the Dallas Cowboys three-peating their way
to the Superbowl title this year...leave those doubts at home.
The season is almost half over now and the Cowboys are the most
dominant football team on the planet right now. As for my pre-
season predictions that appeared in an earlier edition of this E-
mag, well when you don't like football...you generally don't
follow all the teams that close (grin). But seriously, I am not
the only individual in the sports world that is shocked over the
play of the LA Raiders. Almost everybody picked them to take it
all this year...except most of the sports writers in Dallas.
With Football behind us now, we move forward to the realm of Sir
Chrales Barkley...namely: Basketball. This year looks to be the
most exciting year in the NBA since the rookie seasons of Larry
Bird and Earvin "Magic" Johnson. A lot of people are putting the
pressure on the Pheonix Suns by claiming another championship for
them before the season has gotten underway. However, Shaquille
O'Neal and the Orlando Magic are going to be standing in their
way this year. There is no doubt that this is the most powerful
Orlando Magic team to step onto the court in their franchise
history. Let's just hope that all the pieces are together for
them this year. And guess what Dallas Mavericks fans? Roy
Tarpley is back! Yes sir, that is correct! Roy Tarpley is back
and the Dallas police force is on the watch for his drunken
driving antics again! The only difference between the last time
Roy was here and this time, is that rookie Jason Kidd is even
more reckless than Tarpley and should take some of the off-court
heat off of Roy. I really wonder if the Mavericks are building
their their foundation on rock or sand? Time will tell.
And last, but not least, we entertain the world of "boxing-on-
ice:" the domain of Hockey. At one time, the players and owners
were ready to agree on a collective bargaining agreement. Look
out! The NHL Commisioner stepped in, pulled the two sides apart
and sent the fans to the penalty box by forcing a lockout on the
beginning of this season. From this point, the players and
owners have slowly drifted apart and it looks like we might have
a repeat of what is going on in Baseball right now. I am not
really sure I like the looks of this mess, and I have a hunch
that the Commisioner is just setting himself up to be the fall
guy in this whole thing.
Oh yeah, one final note in closing. The tennis world needs to be
on the lookout for bad-girl Jennifer Capriati's return to the
game. A lot of people are saying that she might not make it. I
have my fingers crossed for her. She's had enough bad luck in
her world lately. And after she gets successful, maybe she can
start dating me. After all, I'm just a single guy waiting to
shower love and affection on the nearest wealthy lady. What's
that Joe? Jennifer wouldn't want another run of bad luck with
me. Thanks a bunch there guy! Just shatter my dreams. And I
bet the next thing you're going to tell me is that Lisa Marie
Presley just got married. She did? To Michael Jackson? I think
I'm going to be sick.
Till next month....
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Opening a Gateway to the Internet:
An Interview with Will Bunker
Copyright (c) 1994, L. Shawn Aiken
All rights reserved
Imagine a world brimming over with data. Data you need - whether it
be for business or pleasure. And imagine everybody in that world, screaming
at the tops of their lungs, in a language you don't understand. That's the
Internet. And even if you have the money and the time to deal with it, it is
still an awful mess.
On October 6, 1994, I interviewed Will Bunker, a pioneer in the field
of bringing the Internet in a cheap and user friendly package to your
electronic doorstep. Mr. Bunker is the Sysop of the International On-line
Service, located in Dallas, Texas, and has done more in life than just stare
at a computer, getting screen burn on his retinas.
STTS: What kinds of experience and training do you have on computers?
Mr. Bunker: I started playing around with them in college. My major was
Industrial Engineering and we had a few projects. When I moved to Dallas, I
picked up a Computer Currents and was fascinated by BBSes. Then I spent a
year and a half in exile in Russia working. There I ran across GLASNET
(Russian Internet) and learned more about the medium. On my vacation I
starting reading "Boardwatch" and began to put together a business plan - and
the International On-line Service is the result of that. We started in
January and after many rabbit trails we have arrived today with an Internet
service that I hope people can enjoy.
STTS: Where are you originally from?
Mr. Bunker: A small town called Lake Village, Arkansas. It is on the border
wit Mississippi where I went to high school and college.
STTS: So how did you get to Dallas, and when?
Mr. Bunker: I interviewed with my company in 1992 and moved here in the
summer of '92.
STTS: And which company was that?
Mr. Bunker: Well, it is a small group of private companies owned by N.B.
Hunt. The first one that I worked with was a natural resources outfit (Hunt
Exploration and Mining Company) and that is how I ended up in Russia.
STTS: Natural Resources? Oil and gas, perhaps?
Mr. Bunker: Mostly oil and a gas, but we all so looked at a few mineral
projects in some of the Republics over there.
STTS: Where were you 'stationed'?
Mr. Bunker: I lived in Moscow, but spent about 25% of my time on the road
visiting various places and running the numbers on the projects that we
looked at. None of which were that attractive considering the vast risks
involved.
STTS: Do you learn to speak Russian, or did the Russians speak English?
Mr. Bunker: I learned conversational Russian while I was there but I it is
fading fast. I had a really good interpreter that went everywhere with me
to keep me out of trouble, but towards the end I started actually having
conversations with people and it was pretty neat. The only thing that I
regret about leaving is not finishing learning how to speak. Oh well, since
it is so rough there I probably won't need it again anyway.
STTS: What places did you visit?
Mr. Bunker: I saw quite a few. Arkangel in the north. Kyrgyistan, Kazakstan,
Azerbejan, Uzbekistan in the south. Chelyabinsk, and Magnitagorsk in the
Urals. Siberia, even Kamchatka and Vladivistok. I didn't spend any time in
the middle portion or in Ukraine or Bylorussia.
STTS: Quite a few of those places are in civil war. Did you have to dodge
any bullets?
Mr. Bunker: I was there during the coup attempt but my apartment was not
around the Parliament building, although I could hear the tanks firing. More
of a threat was the organized crime although I was fortunate that they never
zeroed in on me.
STTS: What exactly was you job there?
Mr. Bunker: I guess you could call me the Project Manager. I was in charge
of the Russians in the sense that I had to make sure that their numbers
matched Western economics.
STTS: As opposed to 'Eastern economics'?
Mr. Bunker: Yes, they considered a project with payout where you get all the
money back eventually. With no interest. So you really had to be careful
not to take the feasibility studies too seriously.
STTS: All those years of communism I guess. They had no business skills?
Mr. Bunker: They had plenty of business skills, just not in the same way that
we think of. They could overcome tremendous obstacles that their environment
(social, political, etc. ) placed in their way. Yet that would not translate
to me asking money in a way that would benefit a traditional business in our
sense.
STTS: Was it a matter of corruption, or just socialist ideas of production,
rather than a 'for profit' motive?
Mr. Bunker: All of the above. They probably were closer to being a mafia
state than a true communistic state. The KGB is not really much different
than organized crime. Nor has it really changed now. It is just a little
more chaotic. Those that have power receive all of the benefits leaving
very little for anyone else. At least that is how it appears to some looking
in from the outside.
STTS: Was it hard to accomplish your objectives?
Mr. Bunker: Extremely. They just don't have the infrastructure that we take
for granted. Telephones, business equipment, airports, hotels, roads, cars,
banking, law, etc. You name it and they don't have it.
STTS: Was the Russian Internet up to western standards?
Mr. Bunker: Glasnet is pretty cool. It is basically a USENET feed that comes
off of a satellite. They have 3 phone lines and you must go to their office
and give them roubles in advance to set up an account. It allowed me to
receive news much faster that most people unless they had CNN of course. It
was quite interesting to see the Internet work so well in a place so remote.
STTS: What kind of hardware did it use? Did it have a good storage ability?
Mr. Bunker: I think it was a group of 486's and seemed to keep messages about
2 weeks which was enough for me. It sounds so primitive here, but there it
was really awesome. I remember many a winter night rummaging through
newsgroups learning a about different things.
STTS: When did you first get into BBSing?
Mr. Bunker: The summer of 92 before I left Dallas, I began to call BBSes
that were listed in the back of "Computer Currents". I pretty much dropped
it until I found Glasnet in Fall of 93. Then I really got involved in
January of this year as I started to put this thing together.
STTS: How did this IOS thing come about? Where did the idea come from? How
did you get it together?
Mr. Bunker: The idea came from "Boardwatch", which I picked up in April of
'93. I thought a lot about it as I traveled around in Russia. I talked my
boss into giving it shot in December of '93. Then we started doing the
feasibility in January of this year.
STTS: And who is your boss? Is this company affiliated?
Mr. Bunker: Yes IOS is a part of the N.B. Hunt group. I pretty much run the
thing, but with all of the expenses I couldn't fund it myself. So, I work
for IOS and set the pace on trying to make a go of it.
STTS: And what is the philosophy behind IOS?
Mr. Bunker: Well, right now we are trying to put together an interface for
the Internet that will allow the average person to jump on, find their area
of interest, access the information, and jump off.
STTS: There are several systems that give access to the Internet. How is IOS
different?
Mr. Bunker: Our interface uses RIP and ANSI screens. This means that someone
can spend $8/month, no up-front software cost or learning curve, and test
the Internet. I hope that this will allow many more people the opportunity
to see what it is all about without having blow their budget on it.
STTS: How does the interface work?
Mr. Bunker: At present we are using Galacticomm and it runs off of a DOS
computer. We are going to roll out a pure UNIX system this month that will
generate RIP screens. I think that it will really knock people's socks off.
Still, at present we have a system that will allow people to browse by area
of interest, as well as search by topic, using standard Internet tools such
as Veronica, etc., without having to know too much about them.
STTS: How much of the Internet can be accessed?
Mr. Bunker: We have everything but USENET right now. So I would say 50-60%
of the information can be seen through the setup that we have now.
STTS: How does the system work?
Mr. Bunker: Well right now we are running it off of a Galacticomm platform
on a Novell network. The server is TCP/IP compatible and that is how we
bridge to the Internet.
STTS: I've read all about those thing, but since I haven't seen them, I
forgot exactly what they were. It's a bridge to the net, right, but at what
level?
Mr. Bunker: Well, all the net really is, is a group of computers with wires
running to each other. The language that they speak is called TCP/IP. If
you have the wire an and the protocol then you are officially on the
Internet. At least that is what they tell me. It seems to work fine for us
so I guess that I believe them.
STTS: What does the USENET have?
Mr. Bunker: It is a collection of discussion groups that are transmitted
along the wires (sort of like UPI or AP) to all the computers that wish to
subscribe. It provides a lot of bulk and interaction to the whole thing.
STTS: So those are the message boards and news boards?
Mr. Bunker: Yes, together they are collectively called USENET.
STTS: Are you planning to get the USENET, or not?
Mr. Bunker: Yes, it should be up and running in a week or so . We didn't
start with it because so many BBSes already have USENET via Planet Connect
and friends. We wanted to start with the harder to find interactive features.
STTS: Is FIDO a USENET feature, or is it something else?
Mr. Bunker: FIDONET runs the same concept, but the phone lines are not
connected 24 hours day. It is received in a burst once or twice a day. Same
thing but different implementation.
STTS: What sorts of things are available via IOS on the Internet. ?
Mr. Bunker: Well we have all the gopher sites available which include a
tremendous amount of information. You can also call any computer that is
hooked up (TELNET) this includes FedWorld. You can also transfer files from
anonymous sites which allows you access to the Terabytes of information.
There are several search tools to allow you to search the entire space. FTP
is the hardest tool to use in my opinion. You have a to know a few UNIX
commands to make it behave. I have several screens in the beginner area that
spell out step by step how to retrieve a file using FTP. It is not easy but
I guess the people that designed were not too worried about that.
STTS: What are the other section of IOS, other than the Internet access?
Mr. Bunker: We have several other systems. They include business, author's
net, UFOs and patents. Quite an eclectic sort.
STTS: And these systems are individual BBSes located in IOS itself?
Mr. Bunker: Yes, they are individual BBSes run by a pretty great group of
people.
STTS: How do these BBSes operate?
Mr. Bunker: We have local access numbers across the country. They signed up
in order to get exposure across the country. We tried to recreate the look
and feel within the constraints of running different software to allow their
long distance user to access them a little cheaper.
STTS: When was IOS first set up?
Mr. Bunker: We started recruiting in April of this year and implemented in
June and added Internet last month.
STTS: Recruiting employees?
Mr. Bunker: No, BBSes to add content.
STTS: I thought IOS had been around for a longer. In another form?
Mr. Bunker: Yes as a limited test BBS. But it took a long time to negotiate
the phone contract for the local access numbers. That was the biggest hurdle
to getting in the business.
STTS: Is that set up like the large systems, like Prodigy, Compuserve, and
AOL?
Mr. Bunker: Yes but we have a smaller area of coverage, naturally.
STTS: How many lines do you have into the system?
Mr. Bunker: Counting the network lines from other cities, there are
approximately 180 phone lines coming in at this time.
STTS: And how many users can access the system at one time?
Mr. Bunker: It depends on what they are all doing. Since I placed the system
on the Novell network I think it could handle 150 before starting to bog
down, but it is rank speculation at this time.
STTS: I go crazy on systems so spend all my money on them. If I could
somehow regulate my time on - kick me off at a pre-arranged time. I don't
suppose this system does that?
Mr. Bunker: Yes actually we do. For the Dallas user the $8 get them 2 hours
a day. The system automatically removes them at the end of the time so they
don't have to worry about running up a bill.
STTS: Is there any way someone who wanted more time could get it?
Mr. Bunker: Yes $16 will get you 4 hours a day, etc.
STTS: What kind of technical support do you give?
Mr. Bunker: Well, we are available from 8am to 6pm to field questions in
person by calling (214) 979-9072 and on-line most of the evening. Then the
user can send us e-mail asking any question. So far there haven't been that
many questions, precisely because people are using software that they know
and love.
STTS: So can any communication software access IOS?
Mr. Bunker: Well if it has text, ANSI, or RIP interface then they can reach
us and use the Internet.
STTS: At what speeds (BPS) does IOS run?
Mr. Bunker: Our Dallas numbers are 14.4. The nation-wide numbers are
typically 9600, but we also have a few dreaded 2400 out there in some cities.
STTS: Does IOS have Internet E-mail?
Mr. Bunker: Yes and no. Yes we have it on our UNIX machine, but we are
waiting on some cable in order to bridge it over to the system so all our
users can have it. I hope to have it on-line by Monday.
STTS: Will there be a menu driven editor for the Email, or will it be
operated by the UNIX commands?
Mr. Bunker: I think that it will be sent straight from the standard Email
area. The system will know based on the address.
STTS: About the USENET, are you going to have all groups on it, or are you
going to leave out certain things, like the really weird ALT groups?
Mr. Bunker: Probably leave out a few, due to personal tastes of my employers.
We are currently developing a total graphic front end to map the newsgroups
according to topic. It will run straight off of the UNIX system. I think
the look will blow people away, but here again, it is not working today. So
we will just have to wait and see when we can bring it on-line.
STTS: When is it projected to come on-line?
Mr. Bunker: The developer has it up and running on a 486 using just using
UNIX, but in order to make it technically feasible it has to be moved to our
UNIX system. He is doing that now, but there is no way to predict all the
difficulties until he tries to run it. I think in 3 weeks we will have it
ready for people to start calling.
STTS: What sorts of things will be left out of the USENET? Is there a sort
of 'family values' philosophy behind it, or something else?
Mr. Bunker: Well, basically since the family has such a high profile, we
aren't going to carry anything that would get our faces on 'Hardcopy' and
such for polluting young minds. I personally don't see too much wrong with a
lot of it, but the legal issues are real and we would rather stay away from
the controversy.
STTS: There are mild forms of adult things, though. Will there be some sort
of 'age screen' to keep the children out of areas that aren't too bad, but
could receive an 'R' rating?
Mr. Bunker: I would like to do it that way. It will take more time to set
up but I think it will be worth it. There are many people who don't want
their children exposed and I don't blame them. Yet you want to appeal to
the broad market so we will have differentiate.
STTS: Is IRC available on IOS?
Mr. Bunker: Not yet, but it will be on the UNIX system. I think it is one of
the coolest things out there.
STTS: What sorts of things are available on IRC?
Mr. Bunker: IRC is a global chat. So it is no different than chat here, just
you have hundreds of people on-line all the time so it is pretty cool.
STTS: Is there any way to gain emergency extra time other than paying for
another 'level' that month?
Mr. Bunker: Yes you could sign up for the non-local account. It is $8/month
for 2 hours then every hour after that is $3.50/hour with no limit.
STTS: Where does IOS fit into the over-all scheme of Internet servers?
Mr. Bunker: We think that our niche will be providing a road map for people
to travel the Internet.
STTS: For that you need explorers. Is that what you do?
Mr. Bunker: Yes I spend a lot of my time exploring but we will need to find
others to help as we go along. John, our UNIX man, has mapped 4,000
newsgroups, but there is so much more that it will take a team to do it all.
STTS: Is IOS a kind of travel agent, providing people with maps and booking
on flights and what not? Is that an accurate description?
Mr. Bunker: Yes, although my analogy is that of a TV company. Anyone can set
up an Internet connection. It is creating interesting programming that will
make the whole thing entertaining and useful for the average person. So as
long as people like our programming they will tune into our channel. The
resources are the same for every provider, just the slant on their interface
and destinations.
STTS: So what is your favorite part of IOS - what do you use on it?
Mr. Bunker: I love cruising gophers, but I think that MUD are the king. This
weekend I am going to put together a list of 40 MUDs and make them available
from the top Internet menu. I think people will love them.
STTS: Is there anything else about IOS that I have failed to ask about?
Mr. Bunker: No that about covers it. It is simple yet extremely complex. It
just takes time to build it up, which we are doing every day. I added a
non-profit resource area in my Browsing section today. Tomorrow it is MUDs.
The next - who knows?
STTS: So IOS will be growing on and on in an attempt to deliver the Internet?
Mr. Bunker: Yes. The day our programming stops people will get tired and
tune in somewhere else.
STTS: Well, Thank you for letting me interview you in your valuable time.
For more information contact IOS at:
(214) 979-9072, for voice, or
(214) 922-8167, for modem.
Waterlogged Klingons
Copyright (c) 1994, L. Shawn Aiken
All rights reserved
I was hoping to come back from Stellar Occasion '94 with all sorts of
neat things to tell you. Regretfully, I missed most of the Con. Caught the
tail end, though. But it was not what I was hoping for - my first time out.
I've never been to a science fiction convention, you see. I was
hoping to experience one. All of one. Alas, the great rains hit. You know
that storm that sent Houston and the surrounding bits under water? Not that
one. The smaller one that hit Dallas a few days later.
It wasn't a big flood. I've been in those. Back in Houston. In the
'70s. When you see your neighbors going to the 7-11 in canoes, you know it
is bad. Dallas just experienced a flash flood this time around. A few
people washed away down the Trinity River and never seen again. Small
potatoes.
It did not matter that the flood was on Friday and the Con was on
Saturday and Sunday. It still got the car. The alternator on the car drank
all the water it could and then went on the fritz. So much for Japanese
technology vs. Texas thunderstorms.
Anyway, the car was off-line. I sat there and lamented. My first
Con and this happens. I've been a science fiction fan all of my life. I
was brought up on Star Trek, Asimov, Bradbury, Clarke, and the like. But I
never felt a compunction to go to a Con. Buncha weird people, I always
thought. Dressed up to the hilt in Spock ears. Goofy. Sure, I can go and
memorize every line in the original Star Trek series - but I don't want to
meet people who do the same.
But times - and people - change. I wanted to see. Observe what all
the hubbub was about. A little bit. But the real reason I had in mind was
to see the experts. People like G. Harry Stine, who has written for Analog
magazine since God created cheese. And William Gaubatz, Director-Program
Manager for the Delta Clipper rocket. A whole slew of experts in the space
field talking for two days straight, in conferences such as "Space
Settlement" and "Fork Fights in Zero-G." My kinda stuff.
J. Michael Straczynski was there, giving a six hour workshop on
scriptwiritng. Being a writer, and knowing nothing about scriptwriting, I
figured it would be invaluable. Even if Straczynski had come up with
"Captain Power." You remember it. That show where you could show at people
on the screen? Well, perhaps you don't remember . . .
But NOOOOO. The rain in Spain falls mainly in Texas, damaging
Japanese auto parts. I finally did make it - on Sunday - Sunday afternoon -
to be precise. Thirty bucks for my sister and I to enter. But I had to go.
Even if I had missed everything interesting, I still had to go. Don't ask
why.
First thing we see is a guy in a Starfleet uniform wandering out of
the hotel. "God," my sister muttered. I wasn't surprised. You were
supposed to see that kind of thing there. I would have felt cheated if I
hadn't.
Surprisingly, there were very few people all dressed up. One woman
was particularly striking. She was dressed up as one of those races in
"Babylon 5." The bald ones. Not the reptilian bald ones, but the humanoid
bald ones. But not the spiky-hair bald ones. The psychic bald ones. You
know who I mean. And if you know who in the heck they are, please let me
know.
Anyway, she was dressed up just like on of them. The costume was
perfect. The makeup was perfect. It looked like she had just wandered down
from space. This wasn't your 'buy a costume in a package' affair. This had
taken time, money, dedication, and a high level of artistic skill. I was,
and still am, impressed.
The second thing we saw was Claudia Christian, from Babylon 5,
signing autographs. Warnings about the pain imposed if you cut in line were
floating about. I stayed away. I wouldn't know what to do with an autograph
if I had one. Keep it as a bookmark, I guess.
The first celebrity I ever saw was in El Paso, in a Walmart. I was
wandering around the shampoo section, and a really scruffy man, smelling a
bit, wandered by. He stooped and began examining hair care products. In a
flash I realized who it was. Tommy Chong. My suspicions were confirmed
when I heard later on the news that Cheech and Chong were in town for a low
rider competition.
Having seen such and impressive person as Tommy Chong in the flesh,
I was not impressed with Claudia Christian. No body odor. No scratching of
parts that shouldn't be scratched in public. Claudia was a let down.
We eventually ended up in the dealer's room. Lots of stuff for sell.
More Star Trek trading cards than I had ever seen. Not that I understand
why anyone would buy them, but they were there. Posters, figures, paste-on
Klingon foreheads, little clickety-click Star Trek badges; just about
anything you can imagine. Crystal Wood, a local author, was selling her
book, Cut Him Out in Little Stars at a table as well.
Eventually I realized that there was going to be a conference
entitled "Vast Possibilities of the Future," with mucho big names in it.
But, do to a mix up, I ended up in a room with Judith
Ward.
Ms. Ward is what you might call a professional fan. From what I can
tell she lives at conventions and breathes science fiction instead of air.
Some people might call her obsessive. I'll just call her dedicated, which
indeed she is.
Somehow she helped to get the 1997 WorldCon (World Science Fiction
Convention) to be help in San Antonio. The WorldCon is one of the biggest
conventions in the universe, and she talked an hour about it. I had no idea
how much was involved in one of those things. Thousands of people gathered
from all around the world for five days. Around three official hotels taking
part. It should be quite a sight.
Regretfully, I had to get back home after that. It certainly wasn't
fifteen dollars, but it would have if I had been on schedule and got to do
everything I had wanted to. But those two hours wandering around lost were
kind of fun.
Early in November there is a Star Trek Convention being held close
by. Just Star Trek though. Hmm. It may be interesting - even with no space
experts.
And then there is WorldCon in 1997. That should be a blast. The
second Star Wars trilogy should be out about then, if Lucas keeps his
promise. Hmm. I'll have to think about it.
Oh, and there were no waterlogged Klingons. Sunday was nice and
clear.
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Computer Software Reviews
Copyright (c) 1994, Louis Turbeville
All rights reserved
ANSICHEK Version 7.0
DOS Freeware Program
Patrick Harvey
Email to : MRGALAXY@AOL.COM
One of the worse things that could possible happen during the holiday's is to
have your computer trashed by a computer virus or related program. We have
all heard the gospel: Backup your data and scan for viruses. While I scan
my hard drive and floppies regularly, I must admit that I do not back up my
files as often as I should. However, there are many other dangers that we
should check for on our computer.
One form of vicious attack on your computer system could be in the form of an
ANSI bomb. I had heard about ANSI bombs, but had never really had a good
understanding of how an ANSI file could harm my computer. After I downloaded
the file ANSICHK7.ZIP I got an education as well as peace of mind.
As explained in the documentation file, what the program ANSICHEK is designed
to do is scan files for hidden and possible dangerous ANSI codes that could
remap your keyboard, and inform you of their existance. If you were to look
at or TYPE a file that had an ANSI code that remapped your keyboard, you
would not know it until you pressed the key that was remapped. An example is
that your spacebar could be redefined to start a hard disk format when
pressed, and you wouldn't know until you pressed the spacebar and the damage
has begun.
An included program is BOMBVIEW. This program will allow you to safely view
any suspected files, without the threat of actually activating the keyboard
re-definition. If you are unsure whether what you are looking at is safe or
not, ask and friend and play it safe. Do not try view a file that ANSICHEK
suspects may have a bomb with any other program than VIEWBOMB, or you could
be in for a devastating surprise.
The best part is that this protection is free. What better way to go into
the holiday season then to get a useful program for free. I highly encourage
that you look for this freeware program and use it regularly along with your
virus scanner.
Music Review
Copyright (c) 1994, Thomas Van Hook
All rights reserved
The Beavis And Butt-head Experience
Geffen Records, Copyright 1993
Track Listing
1. I Hate Myself And Want To Die by Nirvana
2. Looking Down The Barrel Of A Gun by Anthrax
3. Come to Butt-head by Beavis And Butt-head
4. 99 Ways To Die by Megadeth
5. Bounce by Run DMC
6. Deuces Are Wild by Aerosmith
7. I Am Hell by White Zombie
8. Poetry And Prose by Primus
9. Monsta Mack by Sir Mix-a-Lot
10. Search And Destroy by Red Hot Chili Peppers
11. Mental *@%#! by Jackyl
12. I Got You Babe by Cher with Beavis and Butt-head
Obnoxious - Disgusting - Juvenile - Cool - Radical. These
are all words that have been used to describe MTV's cartoon
series known as "Beavis and Butt-head." All of those words are
quite accurate to describe their show on MTV, but none of them
apply to this Compact Disc.
The manner that the CD is put together, it suggests that
this was one of the television shows. However, without the
visual images that the tv series gives to the viewer, this CD
leaves the listener flat.
Nirvana's recording of "I Hate Myself and Want To Die" is an
ironic addition considering the suicide of lead
guitarist/vocalist Kurt Cobain. The song is badly recorded, and
Nirvana never sounded worse, but that's usually par for Nirvana's
usual material.
The banter between three members of Anthrax and the
characters of Beavis and Butt-head is quite comical. The song
"Looking Down The Barrel Of A Gun" is quite rancid. It's
recorded in a style that reminds one of supposed Rap/Heavy Metal
artist (if you could call him that) Ice T. Personally, I have
heard better from Anthrax.
Track 3 introduces us to some of the usual banter of Beavis
and Butt-head. "Come to Butt-head" is quite comical in places,
with Butt-head singing to a woman that he wants to "make it
with." Beavis' comments in the background are so off-beat and
ridiculous that I found myself wondering where Mike Judge (the
guy behind the voices of Beavis and Butt-head) gets his ideas
from.
Megadeth, one of the "supersonic" bands of the '90s,
performs a new song called "99 Ways To Die." It follows the
tradition of good, solid, hard-driving metal from one of the best
lyrical bands in Metal today. Being that is produced by Max
Norman (one of the best Hard Rock/Metal producers in the
business), it's obviously one of the best tracks on this Compact
Disc.
Track 5 brings us to one of the most useless bands to "cross
over" to the Rock and Roll arena from the Rap scene. Run DMC had
a big hit with their version of Aerosmith's "Walk This Way."
Believe me, "Bounce" won't duplicate that feat anytime soon.
Ironically, Aerosmith follow Run DMC with their big hit
"Deuces Are Wild." Not so ironically, this is much better than
the limp Run DMC song. If you ever get a chance to check out the
video for this song, don't miss it.
Tracks 7, 8, 9, and 10 introduce us to some more of the
REALLY bad songs on this Compact Disc. White Zombie and Primus
give us some of the more inane levels of Heavy Metal. Neither
band is a really good representative of what Metal is all about.
Sir Mix-a-Lot gives us yet another of the lame rappers on the
scene. I have no idea why this was included on this Compact
Disc. The Red Hot Chili Peppers show us just how stupid people
in Los Angeles can really be when it comes to music. After all,
who would name himself "Flea" and play music in his underwear?
That's right, an idiot.
Track 11 leads us to the most promising rising star in the
Hard Rock scene today. Jackyl are starting to score big on the
airwaves with a straight forward attitude that is reminiscent of
early AC/DC. Don't miss this band when they play live...they
will knock your socks right off your feet. This particular song,
"Mental *@%#!" is not one of the better tracks I have ever heard
from them, but it is infinitely better than the previous four
tracks.
Track 12 brings us to the song that got more airplay than
all the others. Whether it has to do with Cher's star quality or
the "cutesy" video that was done for the song, this song sucks.
I like Cher, but I think she made a big mistake recording this
song for this Compact Disc.
In my final analysis of this Compact Disc, don't bother
buying it. Instead, borrow it from your little brother and
record tracks 3 (Come To Butt-head), 4 (99 Ways To Die), 6
(Deuces Are Wild), and 11 (Mental *@%#!). That way, you will get
your money's worth from the Compact Disc.
Overall Grade: F
Music Review
Copyright (c) 1994, Thomas Van Hook
All rights reserved
A Christmas Album by Amy Grant
Reunion Records, Copyright 1983
Track Listing
1. Tennessee Christmas
2. Hark! The Herald Angels Sing
3. Preiset Dem Konig! (Praise The King!)
4. Emmanuel
5. Little Town
6. Christmas Hymn
7. Love Has Come
8. Sleigh Ride
9. The Christmas Song (Chestnuts)
10. Heirlooms
11. A Mighty Fortress/Angels We Have Heard On High
"Of all the memories that come to mind of Christmases past, I
think my favorites include chilly wind...coats and one
glove...red noses and warm, wooly hats...the smell of freshly cut
pine and of aged wood burning in the fireplace...being out of
school...singing favorite hymns...decorating the tree with apples
and ribbons and long treasured ornaments...being with
family...seeing old friends...time to talk...time to
listen...wrapping surprises...all of the children...lots of
cooking...even more laughter...and always the music. This
collection of songs - some old and some new - is an attempt to
capture and share a part of our Christmas with you. Most of all,
this is a celebration for all time because God loved us enough to
send us His Son. Merry Christmas always!" --Amy Grant (1)
Christmas albums very rarely include an original tune mixed
in with the "old favorites." This album seems to be an ultra-
rarity with three original lyrical songs and one instrumental
sprinkled in. This is actually one of the most uplifting,
spiritual, and positive Christmas albums that I have ever heard.
Miss Grant starts us off with an original entitled
"Tennessee Christmas" which she co-wrote and performs with her
husband Gary Chapman. With it's roots partially in the Light
Rock sound, and Country music, this song takes you back to the
family reunions we have all endured and enjoyed through the
years. One of the best songs I have ever heard from Miss Grant.
We move from an original to an old favorite of many people.
"Hark! The Herald Angels Sing" is one of those songs that most
people know right off the cuff. Miss Grant injects some real
enthusiasm into with a slight change to the background music, but
nothing that really changes the song in anyone's memory.
Track 3 drops us into the most delightful piece on this CD.
"Preiset Dem Konig (Praise The King)" is composed by Shane
Keister and is truly a piece fitting for a member of royalty.
Track 4 is one of the most recognizable of Amy's concert
songs. "Emmanuel" is jumpy, catchy, and a lot of damn good fun.
While I do not subscribe to Amy's brand of religion, she performs
some real magick with this piece. The ending of the track is
blended perfectly with the beginning of "Little Town" so as to
make the two songs seem to be one. This is definitely an updated
song in a musical sense, but again it doesn't change the way
anyone will remember the song. The ending is orchestrated
magnificently around Amy's voice.
The next two tracks, "Christmas Hymn" and "Love Has Come"
are originals written by Amy Grant and infamous Christian-rock
artist Michael W. Smith. These are the two most powerful pieces
on the album, truly showcasing Amy and Michael's talent of
songwriting together.
"Sleigh Ride" is another of the classic songs on the CD, and
the only one that Miss Grant really ruins with her enthusiasm.
The song is performed greatly, but Miss Grant's off-side comments
of "Come on you guys" really grate under my skin. If it were not
for those comments in the background of the song, I would have
really found myself enjoying it a lot more.
"The Christmas Song (Chestnuts)" is one of those songs that
always got under my skin at Christmas time. However, Amy takes
this song and transforms it into a great ball of fun. With her
energy pouring through her performance, you can't help but smile
like a little kid looking at presents on Christmas morning.
Another original, "Heirlooms" is one of Amy's "conviction"
songs. She tries very hard to remind people that Christmas is
about the birth of Jesus ben Joseph (in the Christian tradition)
with this very touching song. In her comparison of old photos
and memories with her faith in Jesus, she takes a very well
intentioned stab at the commercialization of the seasons and
rituals that permeate our lives throughout the cycle of the year.
"A Mighty Fortress/Angels We Have Heard On High" closes out
this set of songs. In it's own masterful manner, it's quite a
fitting closing to this very memorable piece of work that Amy
Grant-Chapman has put together for her fans.
(1) From the linear notes of the Compact Disc.
Music Review
Copyright (c) 1994, Thomas Van Hook
All rights reserved
The Visit by Loreena McKennitt
Copyright 1992 Warner Brothers, Production 1991
1. All Souls Night [1] [2]
2. Bonny Portmore [3]
3. Between The Shadows (Persian Shadows) [1]
4. The Lady of Shalott [1] [4]
5. Greensleeves [5]
6. Tango To Evora [1]
7. Courtyard Lullaby [1] [2]
8. The Old Ways [1] [2]
9. Cymbeline [1] [6]
[1] Music by Loreena McKennitt
[2] Lyrics by Loreena McKennitt
[3] Music and Lyrics Traditional
[4] Lyrics by Alfred Lord Tennyson (1843)
[5] Music traditional, Lyrics by King Henry VIII
[6] Lyrics by William Shakespeare (c. 1609)
"I have long considered the creative impulse to be a visit -
a thing of grace, perhaps, not commanded or owned so much as
awaited, prepared for. A thing, also, of mystery. This
recording endeavors to explore some of that mystery.
"It looks as well into the earlier eastern influences of the
Celts, the likelihood that they started from as far away as
Eastern Europe before being driven to the western margins of
Europe in the British Isles. With their musical influences came
rituals around birth and death which treated the land as holy and
haunted; this life itself as a visit. Afterwards, one's soul
might move to another plane, or another form - perhaps a tree.
The Celts knew then, as we are re-learning now, a deep respect
for all the life around them. This recording aspires to be
nothing so much as a reflection into the weave of these things."
[7]
Loreena McKennitt is a poet's musical dream. From what I
can tell, a third of the lyrical material on her discs comes from
the works of such established poets as William Blake and Alfred
Lord Tennyson. Her soft, personal approach to the musical
content underscores the power behind the words of these poetic
"giants." But this, by no means, over-shadows Miss McKennitt's
ability to write stirring lyrics of her own. The lyrics of "The
Old Ways" stand as a proud testament of this fact.
As with "Parallel Dreams' (reviewed in an earlier STTS
Volume), "The Visit" brings the listener into another world.
This disc is a definite "must-have."
Grade: A+
Outstanding Track: The Old Ways
Lackluster Track: Greensleeves
Music Review
Copyright (c) 1994, Thomas Van Hook
All rights reserved
The Sign by Ace of Bass
Arista Records, Copyright 1993, Production 1992/1993
Track Listing
1. All That She Wants
2. Don't Turn Around
3. Young And Proud
4. The Sign
5. Living In Danger
6. Dancer In A Daydream
7. Wheel Of Fortune
8. Waiting For Magic (Total Remix 7")
9. Happy Nation
10. Voulez©Vous Danser
11. My Mind (Mindless Mix)
12. All That She Wants (Banghra Version)
Hit records are easy to make. A catchy beat, some catchy lyrics,
and a record company to promote the single is all that is really
needed. While the single is quite good, the rest of the album is
usually just barely palatable. Very few bands have albums that
provide the promise of the first single. Ace of Bass is one of
those bands.
Hailing from Sweden, the band instantly reminds of you the 70s
power-pop group Abba. The lineup consists of two guys and two
girls, none of which play any instruments. And very much like
Abba, their initial success here in the United States has been
very big. Their first single, The Sign, recieved heavy airplay
on Pop airwaves, while it's accompanying video got very heavy
rotation on Music TeleVision (MTV). What this single promised,
the rest of the album delivers.
From the onset, this album is filled with great lyrics backed by
a good beat and wonderful synthetic music, which is this band's
only drawback. One falls instantly in love with tracks such as
"The Sign," "All That She Wants," "Don't Turn Around," and the
extremely catchy "Happy Nation." The lyrics have some deep
meaning too. For instance, from the title track:
"no one's gonna drag you up
to get into the light where you belong
but where do you belong"
There is only fear for a band like this. With this being their
first album, I hope that they don't let success spoil them. Too
many bands have had great first albums, only to be destroyed by
public apathy for the successive albums after it (Ratt
immediately comes to mind). Let's hope this band will be around
for some time to come.
Grade: A+
Outstanding Track: Happy Nation
Lackluster Track: Young And Proud
Music Review
Copyright (c) 1994, Thomas Van Hook
All rights reserved
Abba-esque By Erasure
Elektra Records, Copyright/Production 1992
Track Listing
1. Lay All Your Love On Me
2. S.O.S.
3. Take A Chance On Me (*)
4. Voulez Vous
(*) Additional Rap on Track 3 by MC Kinky
Many bands today owe their influence directly to bands that were
"superstars" in the past. Obviously, for the two members of
Erasure, Abba is one of their greatest influences. Why else
would they make a 4-song EP of Abba covers? I haven't the
foggiest, but one thing is for sure...it didn't work very well.
These songs were brought from the "folk-pop" stylings that they
started with, into an era and age of "synthetic" music. If you
took Abba, gave it a dance beat, sampled all the music into a
keyboard (that's right...ALL the music...EVEN the drums!), you
would get this EP. To say that it outright stinks is a serious
understatement.
My advice to the reader is this: If you are a fan of Depeche
Mode or Erasure, this is the CD for you. If you are a fan of
Abba AND are weak of heart...avoid this disc like the plague!!!
There are some very fine discs of bands doing "covers" of another
band's songs, but this is definitely NOT one the better ones.
Grade: F
Outstanding Track: Try to find one...you can't!
Lackluster Track: Where do I begin??
Movie Review: "Star Trek: Generations"
Copyright (c) 1994, Bruce Diamond
All rights reserved
ÚÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄ¿
³ STAR TREK: GENERATIONS -- David Carson, director. ³
³ Ronald D. Moore & Brannon Braga, screenplay. Rick Ber- ³
³ man, Ronald D. Moore & Brannon Braga, story. Patrick ³
³ Stewart, Jonathan Frakes, Brent Spiner, Levar Burton, ³
³ Michael Dorn, Gates McFadden, Marina Sirtis, Malcolm ³
³ McDowell, James Doohan, Walter Koenig, Whoopi Goldberg, ³
³ and William Shatner. Paramount. Rated PG. ³
ÀÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÙ
To put it succinctly, STAR TREK: GENERATIONS is more of a
fan's movie than anything else, perhaps even more of a fan movie
than any other picture in the franchise. Folks walking in cold
to a screening won't get much out of the secondary character
interactions if they haven't watched ST: NEXT GENERATION a few
times over the past seven years. Elements like Data's "emotion
chip" and Spot, his cat; Geordi's visor and his friendship with
Data; Riker's relationship with Picard and his dislike for a
captaincy that would take him away from the Enterprise; and the
technobabble ("warp core breach," "level 12 shock wave") that has
become a hallmark of the series -- most of these elements will be
so much clutter to the casual viewer. As a result, non-fans are
left with the villain -- Dr. Soran (Malcolm McDowell), a nasty
piece of work who never reaches his full potential -- and a plot
that's as silly and abstract (if not existential) as the
ludicrous "anti-time" concept that ended the TV series' regular
run.
The real attraction of GENERATIONS doesn't occur until deep
into the third act: the melding of the old guard with the new
guard. I got that familiar Trekkie lump in my throat when I
first saw Captain James T. Kirk (William Shatner) and Captain
Jean-Luc Picard (Patrick Stewart) meet up on horseback in the
movie's coming attractions trailer when it hit theaters in late
summer. "I take it the odds are against us and the situation's
grim," Kirk says when Picard makes one last plea for the two
captains to team up against a common enemy. "Sounds like fun!"
is the capper line that's perfectly in keeping with Captain
Kirk's maverick nature while providing a nostalgic thrill for
old-time fans.
McDowell's Dr. Soran is the threat that takes two Captains
to stop: he's a mad scientist in the traditional mold, blowing up
solar systems literally for his own enjoyment. Strange as it
sounds, the stellar explosions are engineered to influence the
path of a ribbon of time called The Nexus. As Guinan (Whoopi
Goldberg), NEXT GENERATION's resident barkeep and in-house
mysterious presence, explains it to Picard, The Nexus is a place
of pure joy, and an intersection between all times and places.
It's through The Nexus that the past and present Enterprise
captains meet. Having experienced the pure joy of The Nexus
once, Soran's need to return to it exhibits all the characteris-
tics of addiction. You might say STAR TREK itself, whether in
TV, movie, or print form, is The Nexus to which every Trekkie
needs to return -- a place of pure joy that few others under-
stand.
The contrast between the two Captains isn't developed as
much as I had hoped; it's mostly reduced to success in punch-outs
with Soran (surprise, surprise, Kirk is the abler pugilist) and
an extended discussion of duty. The secondary characters are
used mostly to just drive the plot along. As is usual in the
male-dominated STAR TREK world, the female characters have been
given the least amount to do. Two members of the original Trek
cast, Scotty (James Doohan) and Chekhov (Walter Koenig), come
along as window dressing for the first ten minutes (Leonard Nimoy
and DeForest Kelley, the only other members asked back, de-
clined), and most of the NEXT GENERATION cast have just a few
lines, aside from the Data/emotion chip subplot, before they're
cast aside for the juicy Soran/Klingon and Soran/Picard scenes.
So, what does it take to translate NEXT GENERATION to the
big screen? Superficially, it takes retooled sets and graphics
(to compensate for film's increased visual resolution), a
lighting design that, at least aboard ship, seems much darker
than it needs to be (the director of photography definitely
decided to play with the dynamic range that film offers), a new
Enterprise set (stellar cartography, well-conceived and
executed), and the trashing of a starship that's become a ritual
with the movies. Plotwise, it didn't take all that much to
launch a new series of movies.
STAR TREK: GENERATIONS will have made over 50 million bucks
by the time you read these words, making it the most successful
debut of an ST movie, ever. Whether the fans can carry it beyond
the first film's take (the most successful in the series) remains
to be seen. But how did I like it?
Just fine, thank you. Personally, I'd place it behind THE
VOYAGE HOME (ST IV) and THE WRATH OF KHAN (ST II) in terms of
entertainment value.
RATING: 6 out of 10
Movie Review: LOVE AFFAIR
Copyright (c) 1994, Bruce Diamond
All rights reserved
ÚÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄ¿
³ LOVE AFFAIR: Glenn Gordon Caron, director. Robert ³
³ Towne & Warren Beatty, screenplay. Warren Beatty, ³
³ Annette Bening, Katharine Hepburn, Garry Shandling, ³
³ Chloe Webb, Pierce Brosnan, and Kate Capshaw. ³
³ Warner Bros. Rated PG-13. ³
ÀÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÙ
Nothing seems more natural this fall movie season than for
Warren Beatty and Annette Bening, one of the most romantic
couples in Hollywood, to remake one of Hollywood's most romantic
stories, LOVE AFFAIR. The 1957 remake of the 1939 classic was
titled AN AFFAIR TO REMEMBER, starring Cary Grant and Deborah
Kerr, which formed the nostalgic nougat center of 1993's unex-
pected romantic hit, SLEEPLESS IN SEATTLE. Framed by "the town
that never sleeps," New York City, the story's romantic climax
involves a fateful rendezvous on the Empire State Building and
the heart-rending aftermath. Movie buffs familiar with LOVE
AFFAIR's turn of events may find nothing new in this latest
version, but for a new generation of movie-goers this film is a
wonderful introduction to some good, old-fashioned romance, an
element sorely lacking in many of today's love stories.
Beatty manages to poke some fun at his past as a glamorous
playboy, giving his character, Mark Gambril, just the right heft
as -- guess what -- a celebrity playboy. How apropos for Beatty
to choose this material, metaphorically presenting his newly-
domesticated image as Bening's husband and father of two children
through Gambril, a testosterone-driven sportscaster who goes
through women as rapidly and as insensitively as the young
Beatty. Gambril is domesticating himself by becoming engaged to
a powerful TV producer (Kate Capshaw), but for all the wrong
reasons. He's getting married to clean up his act; because it's
the *right* thing to do; because he's convinced himself that he's
in love. That is, until he meets Terry McKay (Bening) on a
flight to Sydney, Australia.
Terry's situation roughly parallels Mike Gambril's, sans the
sowing-wild-oats past. Engaged to a powerful business tycoon
(Pierce Brosnan), Terry is unsure of herself and unsure of her
love. Musician by avocation and vocation, she helps make ends
meet by decorating her fiancee's various homes and offices around
the world. She's little more than a decoration herself, or so
the screenplay implies, which nicely serves as a metaphor for her
image with the shallower movie-goers who can't think of her as
anyone else but Beatty's wife. Bening's talent and solid film
resum should be enough to dispel these perceptions, but it's
hard to overcome the baggage that the name Warren Beatty still
carries in the collective hive-mind of the audience. These
assumptions, as undeserved as they are, are belied by the skills
of these talented actors, who also just happen to be two of the
most charismatic screen presences working in film today. Their
flair, charisma, and off-screen relationship inform LOVE AFFAIR
with a passion and affection that surpasses the sometimes-shallow
screenplay.
The script, by Robert Towne and Beatty, seems to be missing
chunks of narrative, especially after Terry and Mike arrive back
in New York, committed to meet three months later on the Empire
State Building if their love is still true. Those three months
fly by, the scenes mostly filled with the lovers separately
reprioritizing their lives and taking on new careers. They
become nurturers (he -- a football coach; she -- a music
teacher), an obvious but appropriate metaphor for the nurturing
nature that each one has awakened in the other. What's missing,
though, are the "break-up" scenes with their respective
intendeds. Assumed though these scenes are, actually presenting
them would have given us further insight as to how profoundly the
protagonists have affected each other. Instead, we are left with
lingering glances, lush music (courtesy of the never-boring Ennio
Morricone), and Katherine Hepburn's "insightful" comparison of
Beatty to an ugly duckling that doesn't know it's a swan.
Hepburn plays Mike Gambril's aunt, a feisty 86-year-old woman who
lives on a small Pacific island, dispensing bumper sticker wisdom
between servings of tea and cake. It's a disappointingly-
scripted role for Hepburn's return to the screen after a 14 year
absence, but once again, the actor is able to inform the role
with warmth, humanity, and a sagacity beyond the words.
While LOVE AFFAIR is a mixed bag, at best, Beatty and Bening
have rarely been as rapturous as they are here.
RATING: 6 out of 10
Capsule Movie Reviews
Copyright (c) 1994, Bruce Diamond
All rights reserved
ÚÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄ¿
³ PULP FICTION: Written & directed by Quentin Tarantino. ³
³ John Travolta, Samuel L. Jackson, Uma Thurman, Tim Roth, ³
³ Amanda Plummer, Harvey Keitel, Maria de Madieros, Ving ³
³ Rhames, Eric Stoltz, Rosanna Arquette, Christopher Wal- ³
³ ken, and Bruce Willis. Miramax. Rated R. ³
ÀÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÙ
An intricate, literate, and fresh approach to hard-boiled
movies. Tarantino surpasses his first triumph as a writer/
director, RESERVOIR DOGS, with a film that ties three stories
together in a Gordian knot of plot and character. A young couple
robbing a restaurant frames the action, which features a couple
of mob boys (Travolta & Jackson) out on an errand, a night out
for Travolta and the mob boss' wife (Uma Thurman), and a
down-on-his-luck boxer (Willis) who decides to go for the gold.
Tarantino's dialogue sizzles and his direction cuts straight to
the bone. PULP FICTION deservedly won the Cannes Palm D'Or, and
is going to be a nightmare for Tarantino to follow up.
RATING: 9 out of 10
-=-=-=-=-=-=-
ÚÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄ¿
³ ED WOOD: Tim Burton, director. Scott Alexander & Larry ³
³ Karaszewski, screenplay. Johnny Depp, Martin Landau, ³
³ Sarah Jessica Parker, Patricia Arquette, Jeffrey Jones, ³
³ Lisa Marie, George "The Animal" Steele, and Bill Murray. ³
³ Touchstone. Rated R. ³
ÀÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÙ
Ed Wood as directed by Ed Wood! Tim Burton's paean to the
man voted "Worst Film Director of All Time" (GLEN OR GLENDA, PLAN
9 FROM OUTER SPACE) looks amazingly like one of Wood's movies in
atmosphere and subject matter, although it's miles better than
anything Wood himself churned out. Though the screenplay relies
too much on the already-known and the assumed-to-be-true, Burton
captures the director's enthusiasm for the sheer art of film-
mmaking even though the man had no idea what he was doing. Depp
is astounding as Wood, a kinetic force of nature who seems to zip
from scene to scene, eternally cheerful and eerily optimistic
about his work. Even more amazing is Martin Landau as the
elderly Bela Lugosi, a portrayal that could have easily fallen
into parody. Look for an Oscar nomination in the supporting
actor category.
RATING: 8 out of 10
-=-=-=-=-=-=-
ÚÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄ¿
³ THE SPECIALIST: Luis Llosa, director. Alexandra Seros, ³
³ screenplay. Sylvester Stallone, Sharon Stone, James ³
³ Woods, Rod Steiger, and Eric Roberts. Warner Bros. ³
³ Rated R. ³
ÀÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÙ
Movies that "blow up real good" seem to be the rage this
year. The publicity for THE SPECIALIST promised the love scenes
between Stallone and Stone would be just as explosive as the
special effects, but they're about as hot as a Fourth of July
sparkler. Stallone is a mercenary-for-hire, and Stone gives him
a doozy of a job: take out the mobsters who killed her family
when she was a little girl. Rod Steiger and Eric Roberts are the
father and son Colombian stereotypes who serve as Stone's
targets, with scene-stealer James Woods acting as the family's
bodyguard and security chief. While the film hasn't bombed at
the box office, it certainly bombs on most other levels.
RATING: 2 out of 10
-=-=-=-=-=-=-
ÚÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄ¿
³ ONLY YOU: Norman Jewison, director. Diane Drake, ³
³ screenplay. Marisa Tomei, Robert Downey, Jr., Bonnie ³
³ Hunt, Joaquim de Almeida, Fisher Stevens, and Billy ³
³ Zane. TriStar. Rated PG. ³
ÀÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÙ
Marisa Tomei pursues the man who seems to be her dream beau
(Robert Downey, Jr.) all the way to Italy, only to find out . . .
well, that would be telling. The land of amore comes vibrantly
alive in director Norman Jewison's romantic follow-up to MOON-
STRUCK, although the present film seems to lack the richness of
the previous love story. Tomei and Downey are just right in
their roles, the music and cinematography set the mood perfectly,
yet there seems to be a mechanical feeling to the plot twists and
character manipulations. Perhaps a little less cleverness and a
little more romance would have served the movie well. And it's a
bit disconcerting when you find yourself rooting for the
supporting character's budding romance (Hunt and Almeida seem
made for each other) than for the protagonists.
RATING: 5 out of 10
Capsule Movie Reviews
Copyright (c) 1994, Bruce Diamond
All rights reserved
ÚÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄ¿
³ JUNIOR: Ivan Reitman, director. Kevin Wade and Chris ³
³ Conrad, screenplay. Arnold Schwarzenegger, Danny ³
³ DeVito, Emma Thompson, Frank Langella, Pamela Reed, and ³
³ Judy Collins. Universal. Rated PG-13. ³
ÀÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÙ
If the idea of Arnold Schwarzenegger becoming pregnant
induces shivers in you, then avoid JUNIOR at all costs. If,
however, a gentle comedy about understanding between the sexes
appeals to you, then this reuniting of TWINS director, Ivan
Reitman, and co-stars Schwarzenegger and DeVito is the movie for
you. Never tacky or tasteless, JUNIOR handles male pregnancy
seriously, for a comedy, and offers another interpretation of
procreation. Emma Thompson is on-hand as Ahnold's love interest,
playing the part of a klutzy scientist with great knockabout
fervor that helps keep the picture moving through its draggy
portions, of which there are too many.
RATING: 6 out of 10
==========
ÚÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄ¿
³ INTERVIEW WITH A VAMPIRE: Neil Jordan, director. Anne ³
³ Rice, screenplay based on her novel. Tom Cruise, Brad ³
³ Pitt, Antonio Banderas, Stephen Rea, Christian Slater, ³
³ and Kirsten Dunst. Geffen Pictures. Warner Bros, ³
³ distributor. Rated R. ³
ÀÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÙ
Tom Cruise is Top Fang as novelist Anne Rice's vampire
Lestat, in one of his juiciest roles ever. His rich, vibrant
performance nearly sucks the life out of co-star Brad Pitt's
portrayal of Lestat's proteg, Louis, in comparison. A solid
supporting cast keeps the film's life-blood pumping, although a
showy second half set in Paris contrasts jarringly with the moody
first half. The astonishing Kirsten Dunst, as the vampire
woman-child Claudia, steals every scene she appears in.
RATING: 8 out of 10
==========
SEASON'S GREETINGS
ÚÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄ¿
³ MIRACLE ON 34TH STREET: Les Mayfield, director. George ³
³ Seaton and John Hughes, screenplay. Based on the 1947 ³
³ screenplay by George Seaton. Valentine Davies, story. ³
³ Richard Attenborough, Mara Wilson, Elizabeth Perkins, ³
³ Dylan McDermott, J.T. Walsh, with William Windom and ³
³ Robert Prosky. 20th Century Fox. Rated PG (mild lan- ³
³ guage and pratfalls). ³
ÀÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÙ
Writer/producer John Hughes, creator of the hugely-
successful HOME ALONE movies, updates the Christmas classic with
Sir Richard Attenborough (JURASSIC PARK) as an eerily-genuine
Kriss Kringle. Kringle's a department-store Santa who thinks
he's the real thing, and tries to prove so in a court of law.
MRS. DOUBTFIRE's Mara Wilson endearingly lisps her way through
the movie as a non-believing youngster who's swayed by Kringle's
good nature and twinkling eyes.
RATING: 5 out of 10
==========
ÚÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄ¿
³ THE SANTA CLAUSE: John Pasquin, director. Leo Ben- ³
³ venuti & Steve Rudnick, screenplay. Tim Allen, Judge ³
³ Reinhold, Wendy Crewson, David Krumholtz, Eric Lloyd, ³
³ and Peter Boyle. Walt Disney. Rated PG (Santa falls ³
³ off a roof, misc. slapstick.) ³
ÀÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÙ
Tim Allen's Santa could use some Nome Improvement -- the
script is littered with fat jokes and other "comedic" misfirings,
making THE SANTA CLAUSE one of the most mean-spirited Christmas
flicks of recent history (even considering the gosh-awful SILENT
NIGHT, DEADLY NIGHT series). Allen becomes Santa by donning the
jolly old elf's red suit after St. Nick accidentally falls from
the toy executive's roof. That scene alone may make the movie
unacceptable for the under-five set.
RATING: 2 out of 10
==========
ÚÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄ¿
³ THE PAGEMASTER: Joe Johnston & Maurice Hunt, directors. ³
³ David Kirschner, David Casci, Ernie Contreras, screen- ³
³ play. Kirschner, Casci, story. Macauley Culkin, Chris- ³
³ topher Lloyd, Whoopi Goldberg, Patrick Stewart, Leonard ³
³ Nimoy, and Frank Welker. 20th Century Fox. Rated G. ³
ÀÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÙ
Young Richie Tyler must survive horror, adventure and
fantasy after stumbling into a library inhabited by animated
books. Macauley Culkin, more appealing as a cartoon than in real
life, proves to be an entertaining voice talent, especially when
teamed with the likes of Whoopi Goldberg and Patrick Stewart.
Older kids may find the storyline bland, with cursory glances at
such classics as MOBY DICK and TREASURE ISLAND, but younger
children may be entranced by the colorful characters. Smooth
animation, but a minor entry in toon annals.
RATING: 5 out of 10
==========
ÚÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄ¿
³ THE SWAN PRINCESS: Richard Rich, director. Brian Nis- ³
³ sen, screenplay. Rich and Nissen, story. Jack Palance, ³
³ Howard McGillin, Michelle Nicastro, John Cleese, Steven ³
³ Wright, Steve Vinovich, and Sandy Duncan. Nest Enter- ³
³ tainment. New Line Cinema. Rated G. ³
ÀÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÙ
Loosely adapted from SWAN LAKE, this movie resulted from the
efforts of a nest of former Disney animators, and the influence
of that larger studio shows. The animation is smooth, if bland
and lacking in depth, and the character design is well thought-
out and delineated. The music that surrounds the story of a
princess enchanted to live her days as a swan is the standout
element, ranging from Broadway-esque show tunes to jazz pop to an
old-time Hollywood musical number. The youngest kids will get a
kick out of a turtle named Speed and a decidedly-French frog,
Jean-Bob, voiced by former Monty Pythoner John Cleese.
RATED: 4 out of 10
Book Review
Copyright (c) 1994, Thomas Van Hook
All rights reserved
Druids by Morgan Llywelyn
Ivy Books, Copyright 1991, 1st Printing January 1993
ISBN 0-8041-0844-7, 400 Pages
LCCN 90-44292
Reading books is a fundamental passion with me. From
escapist SF/F novels to enlightening historical accounts, I
devour their pages like a small child cruising through Halloween
candy. While I am open to reading novels from all authors, I
find myself gravitating to certain ones because of previous
novels I have read. One of these is Mercedes Lackey, who has
written many novels that rank in my top twenty list. I had never
heard of Morgan Llywelyn before, but was drawn towards her novel
"Druids" through an interest in the ancient Gauls. What I
discovered was a novel that ranks as one of the most precious
"gems" in my book collection.
From the opening chapter to the closing sentence, I was
absolutely captivated by this story-line. I found myself reading
slower than usual, savoring each page's turn in the plot. It was
almost as if my subconscious mind refused to race through the
events unfolding before my imagination. Miss Llywelyn wrote this
story so well, I almost felt as if I was a member of the Gaulish
tribes.
An even bigger surprise for me were the "lessons on life"
that are tucked away in the story. I have a small book that I
have filled with quotations that mean something to me. I found
myself adding quotations from this book to my list. One of these
quotations is this: "When you get to appreciate someone, the
dwelling that contains them becomes unimportant; you go to see
your friends, not the lodges they live in." It is quotations
like this that will be passed on to my son Corey when he gets
older.
If you enjoy SF/F novels, this is one book that your
personal library is screaming out for you to get. I am sure that
you will come to treasure it just as much as I have. Just
remember -- this is a story to savor.
Blessed Be!
Grade: A+
Story-line: A+
Note: I am not going to comment on the cover art for this book.
Although it was done very well, I felt that the emphasis should
be on the story-line, not the art-work.
Book Review
Copyright (c) 1994, Thomas Van Hook
All rights reserved
Our Game: An American Baseball History by Charles G. Alexander
Henry Holt Books, Copyright 1991, 1st Printing 1991
ISBN 0-8050-1594-9, 388 Pages
LCCN 90-20585
There are parts of my childhood that I always cherish. My
senior prom night, the thrill associated with my first dog, and
playing catch in the backyard with my father. Of all the above
memories, the last one seems to be universal among young men.
It's this universal love for baseball that has found it's way
into the ideals of father/son bonding. It was my father that
taught me how to catch a fly ball. It was my father that showed
me how to twist my wrist in just such a manner to achieve the
elusive pitch called "the curveball." It was my father that came
to every single Little League game that I played in. It was my
father that cheered the loudest when I got a single. Where
baseball was concerned, it was my father that showed me
everything. Those are memories that will last a lifetime.
Charles Alexander accomplishes a similar feeling with this
book. He tries valiantly to chronicle the history of baseball
from it's earliest days to the final days of the 1990 season.
With so much information to present in one format, this book will
lose the average reader quite easily. For someone like me, an
avid baseball nut, this book will present some of the most
cherished memories of the game's history.
For what Mr. Alexander attempted to do, this book falls just
short of pure genius, but there are some flaws to it. Instead of
dividing periods of baseball into eras, each of Mr. Alexander's
chapters chronicle a ten-year period. In this manner, certain
events are not given enough light in this history while others
are a bit over-done. For instance, the 1919 Chicago "Black" Sox
scandal in the World Series never got much mention in the chapter
concerning the period from 1910-1919. However, in the section
concerning the period 1920-1929, it took virtually most of center
stage, thereby casting a pall over the early years of Babe Ruth's
career and the "prime" years of Ty Cobb's.
In short, this is quite a good history. It's compact, but
it does not "gloss" over most of the issues. For someone
interested in a crash-course on the history of baseball, this is
the book for them. For those already well versed in the history
of baseball, this is a good book to recommend to your fifteen
year old when trying to explain the current strike. After all,
the reasoning behind this strike goes way back through all of
baseball's rich history.
Overall Grade: B-
Book Review
Copyright (c) 1994, Thomas Van Hook
All rights reserved
Pegasus In Flight By Anne McCaffery
Del Rey Books Copyright 1990
ISBN 0-345-36897-5 LCCN 90-92901
First Hardcover Edition: December 1990
First Mass Market Edition: November 1991
Cover Art by Romas
Pages: 293
Have you ever read a book that has totally confused you, but has
had a story-line that is fascinating beyond belief? If you
haven't read such a novel, this is the book for you. Anne
McCaffery has FINALLY written a novel that has left me without a
clue as to where it was going and what meaning it had.
To be honest, this novel is not that bad. However, it reads like
a second or third part of a series. There are subplots in this
book that are ASSUMED that the reader knows what is going on.
When you pick this book up, you feel as if you have wandered into
the middle of a conversation on quantum physics. That's right,
you will get the feeling of being TOTALLY lost! This book is not
marked on the cover OR the inside jacket as being part of a
series, which makes Miss McCaffery's writing style even more of a
mystery.
The plot of the story follows an enclave of "Talented" (folks
with paranormal kinetic abilities) located in a large metropolis
on Earth. They are basically the work-horses of the society,
since they can do things that other humans can't. In short, they
are indentured servants. From this point, the story delves into
three tracks that all become intermingled and absolutely
confusing to keep track of. The first plot-line deals with a
young lady with kinetic abilities who is hiding from the
"Talented" folk because of her fear of them. The second
plot-line follows a young boy who is being trained in his kinetic
abilities. Predictably, both of those characters have kinetic
abilities that go WAY beyond the scale of any of the other
kinetics. The third plot-line deals with a space platform that
is being built in Earth's orbit. The contractor of this platform
is the villianess of the story. Predictably, she is shady and
very unsympathetic to the plight of the kinetics.
What Miss McCaffery has succeeded in doing one thing with this
novel. She has totalled destroyed my faith in her abilities to
write good, focused stories along the lines of "The Lady" or "The
Dragonriders Of Pern" series. This novel is a fine example of
what happens when a good writer doesn't think his/her plot line
completely through. It would be best to avoid this book at all
costs, unless you are a McCaffery fan and you MUST have ALL of
her novels in your collection.
Storyline: F
Overall Grade: F
Book Review
Copyright (c) 1994, Thomas Van Hook
All rights reserved
The Adept Book Two: The Lodge Of The Lynx by Katherine Kurtz &
Deborah Turner Harris
Ace Books, Copyright 1992, 1st Printing June 1992
ISBN 0-441-00344-3
Most people dread sequels. They usually complain about how drawn
out the story has become and the number of contradictions in the
main character(s) that are created with a second storyline. I,
however, am drawn to sequels. Especially sequels to books that I
like. I savor the possibility of seeing a side of the main
character(s) that I had not envisioned before, the chance that
the author has to redefine what the character really means. When
I picked up this novel, I felt that same exhilaration. Boy, was
I disappointed.
While Miss Kurtz and Miss Harris have once again turned out a
fine story, their perception of the characters of Sir Adam
Sinclair, Mr. Peregrine Lovat and Chief Detective Noel McLeod
have become even more clouded to me. While their perception of
Sir Adam Sinclair has basically remained unchanged (other than
the fact that we get to see him finally fall in love), the
characters of Lovat and McLeod are so estranged from the original
novel that one gets lost trying to keep up with the changes.
It's not that I am against changes in the characters, after all
everyone goes through changes in their lives. But not at the
speed that the lives of these two characters change.
Another big disappointment to this novel was an EXTREMELY
ridiculous ending. I am quite sure that the Freemasons in
Scotland have a good foothold in the society there, but not to
the level that this book suggests. For those that prefer a touch
of reality to SF/F novels, the ending to this will leave them
real damn cold.
There are good points to the novel though. At one point, there
is a suggestion as to what might truly cause personality
disorders, with an emphasis on past lives. While the theory is
never truly expanding on, it sounds quite plausible. Another
point is the ability to watch Mr. Lovat slowly lose his cloak of
insecurity, while his confidence in his abilities starts to grow.
There are very novels that deal with such inner workings in a
character.
While I recommend this book, it is with extreme caution to the
reader. Abandon your sense of what is real, for detachment is
very needed to finish this novel without truly hating it. Don't
forget to abandon everything you think you know about
Freemasonry, because this book plays up it's "secret society" to
levels that are almost too insane to believe.
Grade: C-
Book Review
Copyright (c) 1994, Thomas Van Hook
All rights reserved
The Lady by Anne McCaffery
Ballantine Books, Copyright 1987
LCCN 86-92092
ISBN 0-345-35674-8
Pages: 369
When you mention the name Anne McCaffery, most people immediately
think of her Dragonriders of Pern series. The setting for that
series and most of her other novels is in the Science Fiction
and/or Fantasy realm. I was genuinely shocked and pleased to
find a novel by her that didn't fall into either of the above
categories.
"The Lady" is set in modern day Ireland, centering around an
estate and stable in the countryside between the towns of
Kilcoole and Greystones. The family is a very odd one, in that
husband and daughter are very close, while the mother falls in
the range of a "snooty aristocrat." The "battle" falls between
the mother and the father over what the daughter should be
allowed to do. The daughter wishes to ride horses, while the
mother wishes for her to become a "proper lady" in the fashion of
aristocracy. Soon enough, Selina Healey enters the lives of this
family and things get turned upside down.
Miss McCaffery has written what is, in my mind, one of the best
pieces of work she has produced. The storyline is believeable
right down to it's very core. The family's struggles, both
internal and external, are written from every point of view. But
Miss McCaffery focuses on the young daughter through the entire
novel, letting the reader grow with her. It is this that makes
the strongest point of the entire story-line. You find yourself
totally encompassed in the daughter's life, living every
experience with her, seeing the world through new eyes.
I love to read books that express the relationship of human
beings with one another. "The Lady" is one of the best examples
of such relationships that I have read in quite a while. I
highly recommend this book to people that are looking for a
change of pace from SciFi thrillers, Suspense Thrillers, and the
such. Pick it up and give it a read.
Grade: A+
Storyline: A+
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The Tinkerbells
Copyright (c) 1994, Ed Davis
All rights reserved
THE TINKERBELLS
"He didn't even read the letter."
Peter's anger and adolescence caused his voice to rise sharply and
further aggravated him. He flipped the two dice lying on the Samsonite
folding table and caused them to spin out to sixes. Boxcars, he
growled inwardly, his hands still fiercely clenched in his pockets.
Unsatisfied, he resumed his angry pacing. Tossing dice, even using
only his mind, hardly eased his fury.
Across the room, comfortably reclined in his favorite chair, Walter
Morrison watched his young friend pace and toss the dice on the table.
A knock on the door stopped the tossing, but did nothing for the
pacing. Peter twisted the door knob, from across the room, and watched
while Olivia's long blonde hair signaled her arrival.
The slender young woman held the door for Jimmy, the fourth and last
member of the Friday gathering. The familiar whirr of Jimmy's wheel
chair preceded him into the apartment. He flipped the joy stick
control and motored to his customary place at the table.
"Evenin' everyone." Jimmy and Olivia spoke together. When they
were in the same room, or hooked in their unique tandem, they spoke as
one. Their super sensitive minds seemed hooked together, as surely as
if a thick, black cable were connected to each young head. Their
thoughts might start separately somewhere in the swirling mass of one
brain or the other, but what came out was a duet.
Walter pushed up from his chair and moved the four steps to his
place at the plastic topped table. His pack of Kools followed,,a step
behind, and nestled alongside his arm when he leaned onto the table.
Everyone in the room knew Walter would have had to quit smoking, for
lack of cigarettes and matches, if he didn't keep the green and white
packages following him with some small piece of his ever active mind.
The three younger members of the group often teased him about his
absent-mindedness but were really expressing the affection they felt
for their mentor and friend.
Olivia tossed her windbreaker at the clothes tree standing in the
corner and ignored the nylon fabric, as it moved on its own to rest on
one of the brass arms.
Peter relinquished his attempt at setting the indoor pacing record
and took his seat at the small table. The meeting was opened.
A carbon copy of the letter causing Peter's outrage, and
the focus
of the meeting, was lying on the table. Addressed to The President of
The United States, the letter asked for an immediate reduction in
nuclear weaponry and prompt elimination of current uses of
radioactivity. A thinly veiled threat of the group's intent to take
matters into their own hands formed the final paragraph.
Delivered in the daily flood of letters, cards and petitions, the
letter had been placed in the stack marked Possible Threats and
forwarded with the rest of the day's crank mail to the F.B.I. The
President had never been aware that anything signed with a drawing of
Walt Disney's Tinkerbell had entered his world. He was a very busy
man.
The two week deadline the group established passed without any
change. They were meeting to decide which way to move.
"O.K., what do we do?" Olivia, speaking alone for a change, voiced
the nagging question on everyone's mind.
"Show them." Peter's frustration exploded into the room, up turned
in pitch as usual.
"Three Mile Island?" Jimmy and Olivia queried.
A third vote for their alternate plan was registered with Peter's
nod, making Walter the lone dissenter.
"We are fixin' to put our tushes in a terrible bind." Walter
disliked being the devil's advocate, but felt obligated to express what
could become their collective fate. "There are a lot of bad guys out
there. They, and a lot of good guys wearing their red, white, and blue
hats, will all want to give us a permanent room in one of their special
resorts. If we start playing with their nuclear toys, even the ones
they wish they were rid of, they're going to get nasty, real fast. We
need a safe place. Safer than this old apartment, anyway."
"Dad's place in the mountains. Quiet, remote, and those hillbillies
hate people in black Fords." Olivia raised her eyebrows, asking for a
vote.
Three heads nodded their agreement. The plan was approved.
"Go home, get your excuses made and your things together. I'll gas
the wagon and pick you up between seven and eight. Bring what you need
for a couple of weeks." Walter played organizer, despite his lack of
any sense of order. The meeting ended. The youngsters left the room
subdued, but determined.
Walter watched through the window as the three young people went
their separate ways. For all their mental powers, they still lacked
the ability to see beyond their adolescent black and white view of the
world. They wanted the pristine purity of what should be, not the
multi shaded reality of life. While they had experimented with their
combined mental powers, Walter prayed that they were not like gnats
trying to eat an elephant. The joint powers of the Soviet and American
nations were an awesome meal, especially for three kids and one middle
aged man. Walter suppressed the images he was having of dungeons,
chains fastened to blood stained walls, and husky, dark men with
leather hoods and large whips. He called his cigarettes, keys, and
jacket and turned the lights out by hand. He rolled his eyes toward
the heavens, imploring divinity once again and locked the door.
Tomorrow, he thought. They'll get the word early tomorrow.
No one saw the grey and brown haired man leave the brick apartment
building. If someone had noticed, they would not have given him a
second thought. Walter looked quite ordinary.
Despite her sharply focused efforts, the First Lady of The United
States could find no mention of Three Mile Island in her foot thick
stack of morning newspapers. She did not understand why, but when
George wanted her to search the papers for something, she obeyed. The
strident ringing of the telephone, at five thirty, had set this search
into motion. She had only caught pieces of the Presidential end of the
conversation. Phrases drifted across the king sized bed and teased her
mind. She couldn't make any sense from the little she heard, but
George's ramrod stiff back and the terseness of his replies told her
that important events were taking shape. Phrases, tantalizingly brief,
followed her while she dressed. Phrases like; absolutely clean...?
Where was security? The whole mess?
None of it made any sense, but it tore the hell out of sleeping.
George remained silent, as he paced the floor, his hands making
little progress toward rearranging his pillow smashed hair. She smiled
gently at the familiar display of Presidential nakedness and waited for
his mind to sort out his next actions.
The change came suddenly when he snatched his glasses from the night
stand and started stabbing numbers into the telephone. She hurried to
the small desk and retrieved a note pad and pen for his drumming
fingers. She turned her back and rushed to the bathroom to bring her
husband his false teeth. He definitely sounded more presidential with
his teeth in place, that was important even at nearly six in the
morning.
The president, his skinny, naked buttocks clenching and relaxing as
he waited for his sleeping Vice President to answer the ringing
summons, was amused. The world might explode, but he would damn well
be properly adorned, if the First Lady had her way. He shook his head
and smiled with pleasure, as his wife of twenty five years hurried to
win her self imposed race with the V.P. Her next effort would be to
get his skinny carcass hidden under some respectable clothing.
The First Lady beat the V.P. by ten seconds and maintained decorum.
She accepted the hastily scrawled note from her husband, followed its
request, and began sifting through the morning editions for mention of
Three Mile Island. She thought the issue long dead, but perhaps
something new had happened.
The Vice President listened sleepily as the President detailed the
incredible news. Three Mile Island, expected to be deadly with
contamination for centuries, was suddenly pristine and pure. "In
fact," the President relayed with amazement evident in his voice,
"there isn't even the normal background radiation the technicians
expect anywhere in the world."
The two men agreed on who needed to know, and broke the connection.
The Vice President would gather the forces of democracy and assemble
them to tackle this newly risen Phoenix. The only problem he faced was
getting anyone to believe the story he himself was barely able to
accept.
Later that same morning, after his early morning meeting with a
stern President and a silent Vice President, Matthew Simmes called his
most reliable investigator and paced the floor while the younger man
crossed Philadelphia from his separate office complex. The two men
were part of an elite branch of the National Security Agency. Their
activities were so classified that only their boss knew they existed.
Their assignments were so sensitive they seldom met face-to-face.
Today was obviously an exception, Robert Blanton thought, as he rode
the elevator to his supervisor's eleventh floor office.
"Have a drink, Bob," the lean figure behind the desk offered,
looking up over the newest additions to the clutter of reports covering
the desk top, extending a quart mason jar of murky water.
Robert Blanton hesitated, he did not wish to insult his boss nor did
he wish to taste any of the cloudy liquid.
"What's in here?" he inquired, holding the jar up to the light
streaming through the east facing window.
"Water... From the core container at Three Mile Island."
"Jesus Christ!" Robert lowered the jar to the cluttered desk
instantly, flinching as some splashed out onto his hand. He hesitated
before wiping his hand on his pants leg, half expecting his fingers to
turn black, or hurt, or something. Nothing happened. He looked
questioningly at Matthew Simmes, who was grinning like a fourteen year
old boy watching his first carnival girlie show.
"That stuff's safer than mother's milk. The lab boys say they can't
detect any radiation, not even what's present in tap water. Last
night, someone neutralized all the radiation in that whole damn
reactor, including the core. The FBI, NRC and NSA are swarming around
down there like flies on a fresh turd. Nobody knows a damn thing, but
they're busy trampling each other to find out what, or who, and most
important... How."
Silence filled the room as both men mentally gnawed the bone before
them. One man was savoring the unlikely feast for the first time,
while his dining partner and superior was struggling to grasp the
subtleties of his second portion. Neither man got much pleasure from
their efforts.
Both men were charged with surveillance of and security against
those who would wreak nuclear havoc on the country. They were not
concerned with military weaponry except when it fell into the hands of
paramilitary or civilian splinter groups who might use their new found
power for extortion or punishment. The missing radioactivity, however
it vanished, was sufficiently powerful to constitute a weapon;
therefore, the jar of water, a freshly calibrated Geiger counter, and a
puzzle arrived a Matthew Simmes' home at seven thirty that morning.
The two couriers had insisted he read the letter bearing the embossed
Presidential Seal.
The hand written missive urged his complete and speedy resolution of
the mystery and made the usual references to national security and
welfare.
Matthew shared his suddenly tasteless morning coffee with his wife
and shuddered occasionally, as permutations of what had occurred at
Three Mile Island began to cross his mind. Radiation, the silent,
stealthy killer of the Atomic Age was containable, within limits. The
death dealing potential of the radiation contained within reactor
number one was enormous, yesterday. Today, the water, concrete, steel,
and exotic metals inside that giant dome were inert, normal. Actually
less than normal, speaking radioactively.
If the same person, persons, or power, decided to help themselves
again... Generators would stop, bombs would be mere pieces of junk,
medical equipment would cease to function, and.... The list of
civilian, military, and industrial uses of shattered atoms was too
extensive to worry through, over one cup of coffee.
Matthew's greatest concern was that the phenomenon was affecting
only United States atoms. Lets face facts, he told himself, the
Soviets would hardly be willing to admit that one of their underground
tests went click, much less that the radioactivity of the fissionable
material had vanished like a stripper's G-string. When it was gone, no
one could recall seeing it leave.
"Damn." Matthew swore aloud, the third venting of frustrations since
he had finished the President's note.
"Damn it."
"Walter, your cigarettes." Peter called from the couch. Peter
disliked cigarettes, but Walter's single vice was tolerable.
Walter held his right hand up, snapped his fingers, and waited for
the package of Kools to levitate and scamper to him. The older man was
beginning to think there was some truth to the idea the youngsters had,
maybe he was really slipping. He shook his head and walked down the
hall of the cabin, to make certain Jimmy was resting comfortably.
Jimmy could move a mountain, if the idea struck his fancy, but
Walter feared the night's activities had strained even Jimmy's vast
powers. Walter was also concerned that all the moving around and
hassle had done the delicate looking young man some unrevealed harm.
Jimmy never complained, despite being a captive inside a body that
resembled something made from the fire sale rejects from a mannequin
factory. His shriveled limbs were the result of drugs his mother had
taken just before his conception. Jimmy had never walked a step or
lifted a fork, but his cerebral power had become evident very early in
his life. His mother had been watching when he caused his stuffed toy
to move from the foot of his crib to a more comforting closeness next
to his cheek. His mother had maintained her exuberance until her
husband returned from work. Jimmy was awakened and summarily deprived
of his plush puppy. He unknowingly reassured his mother of her sanity
and moved the puppy back to its proper place. His dark eyes closed
again and slumber claimed the miniature marvel.
Those awesome powers grew and twenty years later were coupled with
the strengths of his friends to deprive the officials of the nuclear
agencies of one gigantic worry bead, while adding to Walter's list of
concerns. The radiation was changed but the concern was not. The
reactions from officialdom were slowly trickling into the papers, and
the everyone seemed to want back what had been theirs. They seemed to
cherish worries.
The group had just concluded their final draft of the letter they
were mailing to the White House. Jimmy had participated through Olivia
and their amazing rapport, while he allowed the body he seldom felt to
rest in bed. The envelope bore the admonition that the writers were
responsible for Three Mile Island. Since no one at the White House
could have remained uninformed of the most recent events at that ill
fated piece of real estate, this letter was expected to reach The
President.
Dear Mr. President,
You are, I am sure, aware of the recent events at
Three Mile Island. I am proud to be a participant in the
nuclear cleanup that is sweeping our country.
I am writing in the hope of enlisting your assistance
in this enterprise. You may signal your agreement by
announcing, prior to 1800 hours, December twenty-fourth,
that unilateral disarmament has begun.
You will find enclosed a copy of the letter I have
dispatched to the Soviets. Neither country need worry
about the other cheating. I will be watching, along with
many of my friends.
I trust you will join me in celebrating the coming new
year, without the threat of atomic weapons.
All production, assembly and distribution of nuclear
weapons must stop before December twenty-fifth.
Merry Christmas to you and yours.
The letter was signed with a drawing of Walt Disney's Tinkerbell.
A thick snow storm blanketed Washington, D.C., as more than fifty
people read the copies of the letter that were floating around 1600
Pennsylvania Avenue. Like the snow flakes turning the dirty grey of
the city into virginal white, belying the reality below, smiles
accompanied the circulating copies of the letter, but did little to
mask the terror the letter evoked.
Inside the oval shaped room housing a dressed and properly betoothed
President and seven of his top advisors, there was no laughter. The
President had just asked the question that everyone had been skirting,
like something freshly deposited by an errant dog.
"How do we stop him, or them, from carrying out their threat? If
there was a threat."
"Stop 'em hell. Three Mile Island was locked up tighter than an old
maid's virtue. They walked in, neutralized tons of red hot radioactive
shit and walked back out again. Not one friggin' alarm chirped. We
can't even find which direction they moved the stuff. Don't bet your
ass on stoppin 'em."
The Chairman of The Joint Chiefs-of-Staff was not usually given to
profanity or excessive conversation. Saturnine, cool, and aloof were
the adjectives most often attached to his name. He had, however, never
faced the possible loss of his entire arsenal of atomic weapons. He
was understandably upset. The muscles of his powerful jaw line were
flexing and relaxing, exercising to some unheard music, or perhaps
chewing on his image of someone who would dare screw up the entire
world.
All eight men in the room had just returned from the War Room. They
were fully aware that the room would be obsolete in less than ten
hours, if the threat was real. The room, like the men who held the
reins of power, had been framed and built of the seasoned timber of the
atomic tree. No power yet devised by man was more feared and less
seldom used in anger than the modern thermonuclear bomb. The crude
devices dropped over Japan were as unrelated to the modern weapons as
grandmothers and girlfriends. While both were female, they were
definitely treated differently.
The American leadership knew, from the frenzied visits of Soviet
diplomats based in Washington, that the U.S.S.R had also enjoyed some
missing isotopes. K.G.B. agents, spotted by the stepped up security at
international airports, were pouring into the U.S. Moscow had pulled
out the stops in their efforts to locate this newest, and most
dangerous terrorist before he could destroy the normal insanity
everyone thrived upon.
Terrorists, worldwide, no matter how preposterously remote from
being able to perform the feats of magic that were confounding
everyone, were suddenly accompanied by men with both Slavic and Anglo
appearances. Anyone buying books, spare parts, or equipment connected,
no matter how remotely, with radioactivity were detained, photographed,
followed and generally harassed. Three teachers from Dallas and their
friend, a librarian, were arrested when they attempted to purchase the
usual books they used in science fair projects. Their indignation
would cost the taxpayers two million dollars in a false arrest and
invasion of privacy suit. The feeding frenzy of effort expanded with
each passing day, until it seemed the nation was completely captive
beneath a microscope of surveillance.
On December twenty-fourth, the deadline passed, as the quartz
accuracy the Pentagon obeyed with Pavlovian regularity marched past six
P.M.
The rooms did not move.
The air remained breathable.
People sat in hushed groups waiting and gradually began complaining.
After all it was Christmas Eve and the Bigwigs could solve this crisis
at a more convenient time. If they tried.
Sixty quartz clicks later the announcement came that all those below
the rank of Major General could leave. The trickle of those who had
snuck out early became a flood, as people dashed for their cars. They
hurried to be first at the traffic jams, and were soon joined by their
slower coworkers.
Word came to the President nearly eleven hours after the deadline.
"Mr. President, sorry to disturb you, sir."
"Go ahead, Major. Who did we hear from?"
"One hundred and seventy-sixth Missile Group, between Topeka and
Kansas City. They have forty-eight Minute Man missiles..."
"Well, for God's sake, son. What happened?"
"We have confirmed the telex by phone, sir. They haven't had time
to open all the warheads, but twenty-seven are filled with pop corn.
The president swung his feet off of the ottoman and slipped into his
house slippers.
"Anything else?"
"Beg your pardon, sir."
"Anything unusual left behind?"
"Well... I didn't ask, sir. Is it important?"
"No, Major. Please keep me posted. This looks like it will be a
long day."
"Yes, sir."
The president wondered idly how much butter was buried in government
warehouses.
By ten o'clock the President requested an hourly summary from
communications. The calls had quickly become continuous, all
delivering the same message. The United States military might was
heading toward cornering the market in impotent military hardware and
pop corn.
By six P.M., twenty-four hours after the deadline, the reports were
nearly complete. Including the most secret locations in outer space,
and the most public silos in Kansas, there was not a single nuclear
warhead in the United States that was anything but a very expensive
snack can. One report arrived by courier and included a drawing of
Tinkerbell.
A six thirty hot line call to the Kremlin, delayed by the usual
clicks and snaps of recording devices and eavesdroppers, produced a
weary Russian Chairman. From the Chairman's denials and the angry and
confused discussion in the background, the President knew that The Iron
Curtain had not delayed the green garbed fairy. He considered, for one
devilish moment, asking if the Premier could use Captain Hook's help.
He bit his tongue, remembering the Soviet sense of humor.
"Mr. Premier, we will be forced to forego the pleasure of meeting in
May. Not much need discussing arms limitations, now."
"Da. Some other time, perhaps. Or some other subject."
"Merry Christmas, Mr. Chairman."
"We do not celebrate your Christmas."
"Well then, Happy New Year."
"Da."
The phone went dead.
This Little Piggy
Copyright (c) 1994, Robin Aiken
All rights reserved
This Little Piggy
by Robin Aiken
3:02.
The glowing red numbers seared through my eyes, imprinting themselves
onto the back of my retina. I closed my eyelids, but the phosphorescent glow
lingered, taunting me. Mocking me.
"Not tonight," I groaned. In a mere four hours I would have to get
up and I couldn't figure out what was keeping me from slipping into sweet
oblivion. But in the deep recesses of my mind, I knew what kept me awake.
Revenge. Revenge from the spirit of my last alarm clock.
Last week, my previous alarm clock died a sudden, violent death. It
hit a wall going about forty miles an hour. The clock was going about forty
miles an hour, not the wall. And I was the one who threw it at said wall. I
admit it was a childish thing to do, but that incessant chirping noise bored
into my brain and woke up some primitive, impulsive part of me. Before I
knew it, my poor innocent little clock lie in a myriad of plastic and
electronic pieces all over my floor. Now, its soul inhabited my new clock
and it was punishing me with insomnia until I made amends. I was pondering
what an alarm clock would accept as a sacrifice when the sound of the
doorbell echoed through my small apartment.
I hopped out of bed, smiling as I went through the living room to the
front door. Ha, I could place all the blame on the unsuspecting fool (it
seemed safer than accusing an inanimate object) who dared to ring my doorbell
at three o'clock in the morning. My sleep-deprived mind began to weave
intricate images of bodily harm upon this unknown interloper. Iron maidens
and stretching racks danced in my head as I savagely flipped the dead bolt
and flung the door open.
"You'd better be Mr. Sandman himself if you expect to walk away form
here without a red-hot poker sticking out of your lower orifice!" I growled.
A bespectacled man in a baby blue robe and fuzzy slippers jumped and
started to wave his arms.
"I . . uh . . ah . . . the . . .," he stammered and continued to
flap.
I bared my teeth, "Either flap hard enough to fly away or tell me
what the hell you are doing disturbing me in the middle of my peaceful
slumber!" I tend to exaggerate when angered.
He immediately stopped his flapping and began to fidget with his
glasses, "Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry to . . uh . . disturb your . . uh . .
peaceful . . uh . . slumber," he finished pitifully.
"Get it out, man," I demanded, unsympathetic to his plight with
articulation.
He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Suddenly, like a dam
bursting, words gushed out of his mouth full force, "I'm so sorry for waking
you up but I just went through a very strange and disturbing experience and
I don't know whether I am crazy or not but I just had to see if someone else
maybe went through the same thing and I know it's a long shot but I have this
real problem with accepting something like being crazy because I'm a computer
programmer and I have a very rational and logical mind and to think that
insanity has entered it like some kind of virus, eating away at the circuits
and . ."
"Stop!" I held up my hands, as if they could physically block his
unending speech from reaching my ears.
Miraculously, the barrage of verbiage ceased.
"Okay," I said with extreme patience. "You are an upset computer
programmer who feels the need to rush out at three o'clock in the morning
and wake up an upset chemistry professor to have a chat. So I know what you
are and why you're here. Now please tell me this - who are you?"
This seemed to confuse him, for his brows furrowed and he learned
back slightly. "Why I, uh, I'm your next door neighbor. I live in 3B," he
pointed to the door down the hall to my left side. Oh.
"Oh," I said, "I didn't recognize you in your . ." I looked down at
his blue robe and fuzzy slippers,". . nightclothes." As if I would recognize
him out of them.
He nodded vigorously, "I understand, I look quite different in my
casual attire."
Yeah, a pocket protector makes a world of difference.
"My name is Gerald Hoffman and I know yours is Dr. Bernadine
Rimehart," he paused and his face turned scarlet, "I mean, I know your name
because I, uh, I saw it on the mailbox next to mine downstairs and . ."
"Just call me Bernie, okay?" I said, sparing him.
"Bernie?"
"Yeah, Bernie," refusing to explain.
I invited him in, hating myself for doing so, but if he flipped and
began to shoot everyone at work because his next door neighbor wouldn't
listen to him in his hour of need, I would feel damn guilty.
Ordering him to sit down on my threadbare couch, I sank into my
comfortable recliner and prepared myself.
"Talk," I demanded.
Gerald looked flustered for a moment and sighed. "I was in my
apartment working on a new idea for a database that would virtually
revolutionize the computer industry because of this . ."
I cleared my throat loudly.
He looked guilty, "Sorry. I was working and I lost track of time.
When I finally stopped, it was two o'clock. I went back to the living room,
that's where I have my computer and everything, and put all my notes in my
safe," He glanced at me, "I keep them in a safe in case the building burns
down."
Thoughtful guy.
"Anyway, as I was twisting the knob, I heard this kind of pop."
"What kind of 'pop'?", regretting the words the instant they came
out.
A thoughtful look crossed his face, "It was like a kernel of popcorn
being popped. Nothing loud or anything. Just a pop!."
"Okay, a pop!. Go on"
"So I turned around quickly. Instinctively. I didn't even know
what to expect because I didn't have time to think about it. But when I
turned around . . in the middle of the living room there was . . .," he
faded off, staring into the depths of my scarred coffee table.
"What?" I said, irritated at my curiosity, "A gigantic roach? The
ghost of Orson Wells? Elvis?"
He tore his eyes away from the table and looked into my eyes
imploringly, "I saw a pig."
A pig?
"A pig?", I said.
He looked away and adjusted his glasses, "Well, it sort of looked
like a pig. But it was different," His eyes met mine once more. "Its ears
were wrong and the snout was a little more elongated and it was wearing a
shiny suit."
"A Mafia pig?"
His head shook. "No, I mean like a shiny space suit."
Oh God.
"And he had this glass tube in his hand, it was a hand, not hoof,
and he looked at me and then went to the bathroom."
"In your living room?" Why this surprised me, I don't know.
"No, I mean he walked into the bathroom and closed the door. He was
in there for about two minutes. I didn't know what to do. I just stood
there until he came out. And when he came out, he didn't have the glass
tube. He walked to the center of my living room and pop! he was gone,"
Gerald leaned back and put his hands in his lap.
My mind was blank. Desperately, I searched for something, anything
to say. Something to soothe his deranged psyche. Something to ease his
mind out of some low-budget science fiction movie and back to reality.
Something to get this ranging lunatic out of my apartment. But what came
out was, "A pig from outer space used your bathroom."
Gerald pushed his glasses back into place with a shaking hand, "It
wasn't really a pig and I don't know if he really . . uh . . used the
bathroom. He was in the bathroom, but I don't know what he did. I think it
involved the glass tube, though."
Yeah, right.
"I know that it sounds absurd, but it really happened. If it had
just been a dream, I would have known. I mean, I would have woken up with
my head on my desk, but I didn't. I was standing in the living room when
the p . . the thing disappeared. I stood there for a while, like I was in
shock. I replayed the whole thing in my head over and over, trying to make
sense of it. But I couldn't."
"So you came over here."
"I'm sorry, I know you think I'm a psycho, but it happened. It
really happened, Bernie," Soulful eyes begged me to believe him.
I didn't need this. In a few hours, twenty-six students would be
begging me to tell them all about isotopes and polymers and organic compounds
so they could get the college part of their lives out of the way and get
back to the partying, beer-drinking, socializing part. But instead of the
efficient and lively teacher of chemicals and compounds they all knew and
loved, they would find a hysterical, babbling wreck of a human because she
was torn away from at least a few moments of rest and relaxation to listen
to the amazing tale of a boy and his pig. What did I do to deserve this, I
screamed at any deity bored enough to listen to a common mortal. My eyes
fell upon the quivering, pathetic figure before me and I knew what I had to
do. I had to lie.
I scooted myself to the edge of the chair in an attempt to look
sympathetic and believing.
"Gerald, many things exist in this world that no one can explain.
Look at the pyramids, electricity . . ."
The seventies.
". . . Stonehenge. Your experience is just another unexplainable
event, like eclipses and lightning was to ancient man."
Was he buying it?
His mouth opened slightly and he whispered, "Gosh, I never thought
about that way."
I vigorously nodded my head, "Ignorance breeds fear. I'm sure there
is a perfectly rational explanation . . ."
Insanity.
". . . for your experience, but until the reason is discovered,
there is no reason to be afraid."
"Then . . . you believe me?"
A motherly smile spread across my face, "Of course! Something
certainly did happen to you . . ."
A brain tumor.
". . . that merits understanding, not blind terror."
"You're right, Bernie. You're absolutely right. It's my duty to
look at this situation with a scientific mind," He held his now steady hand
outwards. "Like you do. Solving a problem with observable facts. That's
what we need to do!"
We?
He went on, "I know we can solve this mystery if we just put our
minds to it."
Our ? Somehow, my attempts to get him out the door had led to him
planning our research project.
"We can go back to my apartment and input all known data into my
computer," His lips curved into a smile. "I built it myself. Well, I
didn't really build it, but I put it together and . . ."
Beeeeep! This mindless rambling has been interrupted by a special
service announcement: Remember the database.
Ah. I had an idea.
"Gerald?" I took his hand. His clammy, somewhat sticky hand. I
tried my hardest to block the images that entered my mind.
He looked somewhat confused and began to fidget, "What?"
"I know it is very important to solve this riddle of the universe as
soon as possible, but I think you're forgetting something."
He still looked confused, "What?"
"Your . . uh . . database."
The light bulb above his head glowed dimly. "My database?"
Jesus Christ. "Your database, your pride and joy?"
His eyes shifted, "What about my database?"
On a popsicle stick, "If we're spending day and night working on why
your mysterious friend took a pit stop at you pad, when will you have time
to finish your database?"
He stared at the floor and the light bulb increased a few watts.
Come on, work with me.
"So . . you think maybe I should finish my database first?"
Bingo!
I patted his hand, "It would be in your best interest. I also have
several things I have to rap up before I take on this project . . ."
Like the rest of my life.
". . .and it really deserves our full, undivided attention."
Gerald took off his glasses and stood up, "You're right!"
My whole body slumped. There is a God.
"I'll perfect my database and then we'll get to work." He gazed
down at me with a proud gleam in his eyes.
"Great idea," I said through clenched teeth.
I escorted him to the door, fighting down the impulse to kick him
repeatedly, and we said our goodbyes. In other words, he said goodbye and I
shoved him out into the hallway, muttering, "Don't call us, we'll call you."
Yawning, I shuffled into my bedroom and was greeted by a new set of
glowing numbers. 4:32.
"More than enough time," I sighed and threw myself onto my bed.
I didn't come home till one the next night. It was wet and dreary,
fitting my mood perfectly. No sleep, at total of eighty-nine students
whining like children because I had scheduled the chemistry exam on the same
day they had at least twelve different exams and an inescapable teachers
conference made the idea of becoming Catholic and running off to a convent
sound perfectly reasonable. I would pick up a guitar on the way and begin
committing showtunes to memory.
I went to the kitchen and began stuffing the tacos I had picked up
on my way home into my face. God invented cafeteria food to torment college
students, not teachers, and if Mexican fast-food was to be my savior, then
so be it. I knew I was provoking my reoccurring dream, in which a
gargantuan burrito burns me alive at the stake while tostadas and nachos
dance around brandishing bottles of Pepto-Bismol, to visit me tonight, but
there was no way I was going to let hunger keep me awake. Hunger I could
control, if nothing else. Maybe, I giggled, a pig in a suit would have the
honors of setting me ablaze tonight. I took a gulp of watery, uncarbonated
cola and prepared to literality drag myself to my bedroom.
Pop!
My ears perked up at this sound and I rushed into the living room,
expecting . . .well, not really knowing what to expect. At the doorway I
stopped and Gerald's words echoed in my head.
"Well, it sort of looked like a pig . . ."
Oh my god, a PIG.
". . . but it was different . . ."
A pig in my living room. A pig, after a pop!, in my living room.
". . . it's ears were wrong . . ."
More like a German Shepherd's ears than a pigs. Smaller and upright,
rather than big and floppy.
". . . the snout was a little more elongated . . ."
In fact, it looked prehensile. An elephant's trunk severally
shortened to about eight inches.
". . . it was wearing a shiny suit . . ."
It wasn't really a suit. It looked like someone had wrapped
aluminum foil all over my visitors little body.
But other than the ears, the nose, the hands and the suit (which
covered his piggy or non-piggy feet, I couldn't tell), he looked like a
definite member of the porcine family. Approximately three feet tall, the
perfect shade of pink, little piggy eyes, a rounded body. Yep, ol' Gerald
was right about the resemblance. Then, before I could further commend
Gerald on his keen talent for observation, Mr. Pseudo-Pig started . . .
walking? trotting? . . . towards my bathroom. My eyes zeroed in on the
object clutched in it's tiny paw.
". . . he had this glass tube in his hand . . ."
About a foot long and two inches wide, it seemed to be crafted out
of plastic, rather than glass, and housed a bundle of wires which ran from
end to end. Before I could deduce anymore, it reached it's destination and
closed the door.
Maybe it was a high-tech plunger and he was a extremely disfigured
plumber with a strange mode of transportation. Maybe Gerald's insanity was
contagious and I was infected with a new kind of virus (Dementia Porcinus),
spreading through my mind until I finally ran through the streets screeching
incoherently at strangers about farm animals and got run over by an elderly
man in a Buick. Maybe my taco was laced with LSD. Maybe I'm dead and this
is hell.
Stop it!, the rational part of my mind (what little was left)
shrieked. Stop acting like the hysterical, mindless, moronic heroine of a
bad horror movie and do something constructive!
"Okay", I said (ignoring the fact that I was talking to myself). "I
need to think . . . think . . . . think . . . . ."
Get on with it!
"All right!" God, I was pushy. Let's see, if Mr. Pseudo-Pig is
real, he might be dangerous. A weapon! I need a weapon!
I ran to the kitchen and began to frantically search for a cleaver,
an ice pick, or even a sword. I came up with a plastic knife from a fast
food restaurant. Why didn't I ever learn to cook!
What about the baseball bat in the closet, Einstein?
Of course, my baseball bat!
With one great leap, I hurled myself through the living room and
into the hall closet. The door was shut.
"Ouch" I said. But I took no notice to the throbbing pain in the
middle of my forehead and opened the door, grabbed the bat and hopped back
into the living room to survey the bathroom door. I was ready.
As if on cue, out he came.
I held my bat in front of me and pretended he was just a big, pink
ball.
He took a few steps towards me and then, noticing the bat, stopped.
Tiny, piggy eyes regarded me unblinkingly.
I tried to look menacing, "What are you doing here, pig-boy?", I
snarled.
It turned it's head like a dog hearing a high pitch. I looked at
its' hands. No tube. I wanted to cry, but I shook my bat in a threatening
manner instead.
It's nose curved upward, as if in disgust. "I am not here to harm
you," it said in a quiet voice.
Yeah, that's what all the brain-sucking aliens say. I shook the bat
again and cried, "Then why are you here, in my apartment, using my
bathroom!"
Pointy ears perked up and the snout went back down. "Ah, you are
scared. I mistook your actions. Please forgive me."
It was apologizing? "Uh, okay," I said stupidly.
"And I apologize for trespassing on your property. I know your race
considers it unlawful, but under the circumstances, I think a break in the
rules is not important," The tiny eyes suddenly blinked rapidly for several
seconds.
"What," I said, mesmerized by his fluttering eyes, "are the
circumstances, if I may ask."
"Why, to save your planet," astonishment slightly coloring his voice.
Of course, mentally slapping my forehead, I should have known!
"You see," he went on, "we, my fellow brothers and I, have foreseen
the destruction of Earth and I am here to correct things."
My heart stopped and thundered at the same time. "You're from the
future?"
A sound emitted from the creature that sounded like a twittering
bird, "Oh no! That would be impossible. No, we, my brothers and I, simply
examine current data to interpret what events will occur next. The universe
follows a pattern and if your society ever evolves from its primitive state,
it will come to this same conclusion."
Oh God.
A fortune-telling pig. No, not just a pig. A pig and his brothers.
Laughter welled up deep within my inner being. Hysterical, maniacal
laughter. My brain had turned to mush. I'm sure I felt it slowly dripping
out of my ears.
"But since you can't, we, my brothers and I, felt we had to
intervene and steer you clear of this disaster."
What in the hell does that have to do with my bathroom?
"What does all this have to do with my bathroom?" I asked.
His ears and snout twitched, "The pattern showed that a global
catastrophe would occur when everyone on your plant uses their elimination
systems simultaneously, causing an overload and subsequent eruptions."
My brain was oozing onto the floor and he expected me to comprehend
complex sentences? "What does that mean?"
"Everyone flushes at the same time and the sewers blow up."
Oh God.
"Persons with their own personal septic systems and others with no
sanitation systems will not be affected by this at first, but with the
methane 'fallout', they will be dead within a week or two."
Dead. Like a ton of bricks, the word hit me and I almost doubled
over from the pain it held. Everyone dead. Gone. Ceasing to exist. But
wait! Ol' Pinky and his band of benevolent brothers are in the midst of
saving us from the fifth horseman (Commodial catastrophes, right after
Famine). Snatched, at the last minute from the icy hands of the Grim
Reaper. Everything's okay. The sun will continue to shine. The birds will
continue to sing. Everything will be all right.
The pig took no notice to my change from dribbling idiot to serene
idiot. "The device that we, my brothers and I, are putting in your toilet
will prevent this devastation."
Great guys, him and his brothers. "So, do you go around saving
planets or something?"
"Oh no. It is our philosophy not to interfere with any
developments, hazardous or beneficiary, of a world under our, my brothers
and my, observation. The inhabitants of your planet still have a good
chance of self-destruction despite our intervention."
"Then . . . why are you doing this?"
He paused in thought and looked up at me, "For an entire race to be
obliterated because of a inefficient sewage system, it's just too . . .",
his eyes shifted downwards, then met mine once again, ". . . embarrassing."
And with those final words, he went to the center of my living room and pop!.
How long I stood there, my eyes fixed on the spot where he
disappeared, I do not know. Finally, I realized I was staring at the carpet
and forced my body to move towards my comfortable recliner. I collapsed
into it and slowly, the gears in my mind began to turn again. And I
thought.
While I sat in my comfortable recliner and pondered the existence of
life, people all over the world slept or worked or sat around, not knowing
how close they had been to certain death. Next door, Gerald dreamed a dream
in algorithms and binary numbers. And somewhere out there, pigs really did
fly.
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Where Love Resides
Copyright (c) 1994, Tamara
All rights reserved
Where Love Resides
------------------
Quietly the darkness reigns
under her watchful care
evening shadows linger
erasing childhood's fears with
nurturing hands.
Making the best of life
and love with what she had, she was
ready to face the
challenges of each new day
every moment that passes, her
love and laughter ring thru my mind
lingering to remember her
always.
Lively conversation
awaited all who came near
unpretentious and genuine
even to the end.
nestled in her arms
bad dreams once slipped away
escaping this dream called life
returning home. Home - to
golden gates...or pearly ones?
written by Tamara 11/16/94
I read this at the memorial service for my mom who died on the 9th -
the poem contains her name, and I hope - her spirit. I only wrote one
poem for her while she was alive.....it was heartfelt, but not very
good and I found it ten years later still on her dresser as I was
cleaning up. Took me a week to write this....
The Side Show
Copyright (c) 1994, Daniel Sendecki
All Rights Reserved
The Side Show
-------------
Errant knight - reverent killer
Don't you know?
The Holy Grail, Sir Galahad
is not deep in the tenements
nor high in the battlements
It sits beside a cupie doll, dusty and spent
it travels with the circus
Those who admire it:
The Bearded Lady, The Strong Man
realize - not everlasting life
but their own tarnished reflection.
Something Gold
Copyright (c) 1994, J. Guenther
All rights reserved
--cycle)
(It's the Beauty in Nature to Behold,
to watch its golden Bounty shift to Green
and slowly dissipate to Crimson.)
(crusty leaves fall,
the borders forgotten
rebuilt stronger)
(fallen scarlet
rebuilt gold)
(It's all a--
Sex On the Beach
Copyright (c) 1994, Sean A. Donahue
All rights reserved
As the sun begins to set
and the moon seems to glow.
The sex on the beach with
the waves far below.
The ocean and gulls,
wandering in air.
But you and your lover,
don't seem to care.
The passion is building,
like the waves to the shore.
The water comes nearer
closer than before.
Till the wave is upon you.
The feelings of high,
and as quick as it came,
it soon said goodbye.
The tide goes down,
the waves do not reach.
But the footprints remain
from the sex on the beach
Skipping Stones Across The Sands Of Time
By Robyn Birchleaf (aka - Tommy Van Hook)
Written 9/8/94, 19:00
Copyright (c) 1994, Tommy Van Hook
All rights reserved
Upon the Paths of thirty-two
I walk where few will dare
Every darkened corner retains
Creatures of my wildest imaginations
Queen of Wands, Queen of Cups
Understand the Punishment
Comprehend the Knowledge
Friends left far behind
Have changed without you
Now only distant memories
You can never go home again
Four of Swords, Judgement
Within Fire is Mercy
The pain of Experience
Yields a lifetime of lessons
Unknown to your reason
Shaping, molding your destiny
Into something you barely know
The Hanged Man, Nine of Cups
Within Life there are Crossroads
Soon you will understand
"Why did I choose this Path?"
What is Love?
Copyright (c) 1994, Jeremy Yocum
All rights reserved
What is Love?
ÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄ
I love you,
And I care about you,
No matter what happens,
We're gonna pull through.
No one can change that,
Not even me.
Why are you crying?
If love is blind,
It's 'cause you can't see
Through the tears.
Love is patient,
Love is kind.
It does not envy,
It does not boast,
It is not proud.
It is not rude,
It is not self seeking,
It is not easily angered,
It keeps no record of wrongs.
Love does not delight in evil,
But rejoices with the truth.
It always protects,
Always trusts,
Always hopes,
Always perserveres.
I love you,
And I care about you,
If the world ends tomorrow,
We're gonna pull through.
Why are you crying?
Seems every time I get close,
I'm inches from embracing you,
Satan pulls you away.
Or is it God?
I pray to Him daily
To not let me lose you.
Love and Pain walk hand in hand,
But is it worth it in the end?
All's well that's well now,
The end doesn't matter until the end.
Why are you crying?
If I speak in the tongues
Of men and angels,
But I do not have you,
My words are meaningless.
If I know the future,
And everything else there is to know,
And I can move mountains,
I am nothing without you.
I can give all I own to the poor,
And give up all foolish pride,
But if I do not have you,
I have nothing on my side.
I love you,
And I care about you,
If I owned the world,
I'd never want to lose you.
I remember the first time
We said "I love you,"
I felt my heart shiver,
You said you did too.
Now it hurts to
Talk to you,
But I love you so much,
I just can't bear not to.
God gave every man a choice,
And I take mine to be with you,
If that's what it takes
To be loved by you.
Love never fails.
Prophecies cease,
Words are silenced,
Knowledge is forgotten.
We know in part,
We prophesy in part,
But when the perfect comes,
The imperfect departs.
When I was a child,
I talked like a child,
I thought like a child,
I reasoned like a child.
When I became a man,
I put my childish ways behind me.
Now we see
But a poor reflection,
As in a mirror.
Then, we shall see
face to face.
Now I know in part,
Then I shall know fully,
Even as I am fully known.
I love you,
And I care about you,
If you put your hand in mine,
We'll always pull through.
Why are you crying?
Love and pain walk hand in hand,
But is it worth it in the end?
All's well that's well now,
The end won't matter 'till the end.
I've never found a love like yours,
Probably never will again.
We may part with broken hearts,
But I'll never be the same.
Why are you crying?
Love never failed,
Prophecies ceased,
Words are silent,
Knowledge is forgotten.
And now these three remain:
Faith, hope, and Love,
But the greatest of these is LOVE!
(why are you crying???)
Afterbirth
Copyright (c) 1994, Debbie Burns
All rights reserved
Afterbirth
----------
by Debbie Burns
--April--
I packed you away in a box and pushed you to the back of a closet,
but I could not lose you. My Maggie looks at me with your eyes; my
Kate touches me with your fingers.
At the moment of conception I laughed with the joy of loving you. At
six months our daughters too laugh-- gummily, heads thrown back,
tiny hands clutching a dog-eared Daddy: your photograph with its
frozen smile.
Someday you will meet them, these twins of our creation. You will
look at Maggie with her eyes; you will touch Kate with her fingers.
And I, I will weep with the joy of losing you.
--June--
The fantasy gave way to reality: I wept but could not lose you;
could feel my marrow gelling, instead, wanting to fit my bones into
the mold of yours. Maggie and Kate--more mine than yours, but ours,
nevertheless-- think you're a weekend playmate. Daddy.
I gave you these children; I bear the scar to prove it-- a six-inch
red line searing my abdomen. It hurts rarely now, only when tiny
feet kick in impatience to be rid of imprisoning arms and late at
night when I imagine you breathing beside me. Turning to face you, I
see that you're not. That's when the wound gapes inside of me,
opening to my womb, where it all began.
--October--
My life swirls with two dirty diapers in the toilet. A year now of
being nothing more than a glorified nanny, not even the dignity of
wife and mother. Next year, you say, next year I'll marry you.
He loves me, he loves me not, he loves me . . . we've been this
route before.
A ring on my finger and a bell through my nose. What do you think I
do all day, Daddy dearest, while you live at college-- watch soaps
and paint my toenails? I scream, I cry, I wipe noses and asses and
thank god my punishment wasn't triplets.
Do you know what I do, the days nothing goes right? When the
one-sided conversations turn into screaming bouts? When food is on
the ceiling and blood has flown more than once, when the tantrums
last longer than the giggles? Those are the days I curse you and my
overproductive ovaries.
Computer Currents Top Ten List
Copyright (c) 1994, Joe DeRouen
All rights reserved
Top Ten Reasons 8088 Machines Are Better Than Pentiums
10. 8088's can also double as expensive paperweights
9. Time to do lengthy chores while waiting for programs to boot
8. Extended Memory Manager choice made easy: No memory to manage
7. No need to buy fancy upgrades. It's as good as it's going to get
6. Watch Windows hourglass turn and empty sand several hundred times
5. No math co-processor, no math co-processor problems
4. 8088 doesn't sounds like a mid-size japanese sports car
3. Retro flashback - Relive the early 80's
2. Case of the 8088 can protect you in the event of a nuclear fallout
1. Never get caught speeding on the information superhighway
(c) 1994 Joe DeRouen. All rights reserved.
ÚÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄ¿
³ 110 Nodes * 4000 Conferences * 30.0 Gigabytes * 100,000+ Archives ³
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...and more coming!
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³ ÚËÍÍÍË¿ ÚË Ë¿ ÚËÍÍÍË¿ Ú» É¿ ÚËÍÍÍË¿ ÚËÍÍÍË¿ ÚÉ ÚÍÑËÑÍ¿ ÚËÍÍÍË¿ ³
³ ³º ÃÎÍÍÍδ ³ÌÍÍËÊÙ ÀÊÑËѼ٠ÀÊÍÍÍË¿ ÃÎÍÍÍδ ³º ³º³ ÀÊÍÍÍË¿ ³
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³ High Speed: (214) 690-9296 Dallas (817) 540-5569 Ft. Worth ³
ÀÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÄÙ
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. <G> ]
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 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 yearly
awards were presented in the July 1994 issue.
Honorariums, 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 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.
YEARLY CASH AWARD
Once a year, In July, 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 issue of the magazine.
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 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. <Grin>
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: jderouen@crl.com
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 ........... <Temporarily Down>
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 ........... PsychoBABBLE BBS
Location ........... Massena, New York
SysOp(s) ........... Doug LaGarry
Phone ........... (315) 764-719 (28.8k 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) 499-6646 (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)
Phone ........... (602) 527-1863 (28.8k 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:
JDeRouen@CRL.COM
And ask to be put on the list.
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
Okay, okay. So the editorial wasn't exactly true. So maybe we skipped
a month because we got behind, and there really didn't seem to be any
other choice.
Regardless, though, Tommy Van Hook really *is* on the staff now, and his
contributions have proven invaluable to the magazine. So that part was
true.
And, really, for all I know, masked ninja's *are* after me. I have a
feeling they've been sent my Smoke and Mirrors published Lucia Chambers
as my revenge for a lack of involvement in the wonderful Pen & Brush
Network lately. See, Lucia, I know what you're up to. If the ninjas
come and get me, I'll know it was you.
*Ahem* Well, okay, maybe not.
Anyway, enjoy this issue and the great pieces contained herein! We'll
try to put out a more timely magazine in the future. But no promises.
After all, the ninjas might be reading . . . :)
Joe DeRouen, Publisher
Dec. 6th, 1994
