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WEB FED NEWS YEARBOOKS Earthdate July 2001 |
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WEB FED NEWS YEARBOOKS Earthdate July 2001 |
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INSIDE SCOOP |
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TOP FIVE TELEMARKETING SCAMS IN FED AND
HOW TO HANDLE THEM Isn't it annoying when you get those tight beam messages from telemarketers? You just want to turn your comm unit right off, but then you'd miss all the messages from your friends! So here is your guide to the Top Five Telemarketing Scams in Fed and how to handle those annoying salespeople:
Email Bizcarp@aol.com if you have any suggestions of what or who you would like to see here.
FED
OP-ED: SURVIVOR This week, I participated in the game called "Fed Survivor". Although I was voted off the first day, it allowed me some opportunity to get to know the players of the game better.
"So, why are you here on Rubalkhali?", Jelly asks. Rasal says, "Well, Mac needed some alternate bodies in case the contestants couldn't make it." Rasal smiles, "And lucky (or unlucky) me got called in." "Do you ever regret being here?", Jelly asks. "Yes and no.", says Rasal. Rasal says, "I'm having a blast here, but it's been rough being away from my duchy." "Have you had any bad experiences on this planet? Or is that the only regret?", Jelly asks. Rasal says, "That's my only real regret, being away from the duchy. I've had one PO promote while I've been gone and I'll have one promoting tomorrow. And I really want to be there for that one." "Since you said you are having a blast here, what is the most fun part of being here for you?", Jelly asks. "Hmm, I guess that would be trying to figure out what new challenge Mac's going to throw our way.", says Rasal. "And wandering around trying to find some sort of clue as to what might be coming.", says Rasal. "How hard is it to guess the challenges?", Jelly asks. Rasal says, "For the majority of them it's fairly difficult. But coming across that herd of Alpacas for instance, you just know there's something there." Jelly nods "If you could change one thing about your whole experience so far, what would it be?", Jelly asks. Rasal smiles, "The weather. It is awfully hot here, but then that's the desert environment." "Oh, I'd lift that cursed PG rating too!", says Rasal with a wink. "Well, thank you very much for your time", Jelly smiles. Jelly asks, "Is there anything you'd like to say to the readers before I close?" "Hmmm...", says Rasal. Rasal smiles, "I guess I'd like to say buh-bye." "Well, that IS appropriate for just before the closing", Jelly says with a wink. "I thought so as well.", smiles Rasal. Jelly says, "Thank you again for your time, and good night." "My pleasure.", smiles Rasal.
THE
GREATEST CLUB IN FED Finally, a place where love is at its greatest value: The I Love Chewbacon Club. Yes, for a limited time only, you can win the love of Chewbacon and have the man himself return some to you. But how does someone like you get membership to this club of powerful love? Easy! Membership only costs 1,000,000,000IG. Some people say love doesn't have a price – yeah, right. Why have bargain brand love for free when you can have true, everlasting (with valid contract), quality love for 1,000,000,000IG? Still not convinced? Ask yourself this: "Why do I need Chewbacon's love?" 1. You'll have a shoulder to cry on (appointments only). 2. Someone to talk to when 9 is too quiet (200,000,000IG fee). 3. It fits in 2% of all over head storage compartments. 4. Because you just need it! Act now and receive balloons for the kids and Hellfire&Brimstone brand itching powder for the neighbors next door no one likes. Okay, so you're still reading this and not buying my love? Fine - I'll be quick: Send your gig payment to me now or else I'll haunt you for the rest of your life in Fed and you'll never feel safe. I hope I got through to you. Official mumbo jumbo: Applicants are subject to an account setup fee of 500,000,000IG. You're required to maintain your membership for sixty years or pay a fine of 3,000,000,000IG. All meetings with Chewbacon must be made by appointment. Contact our business office to set one up. Business hours are: Monday through Friday, 11,30pm to 4,00am. Do not call the office until May 28, 2003 because Chewbacon is booked up until then. All members are obliged to offer their planets to Chewbacon for refuge from lawyers and will be sworn to secrecy. And before you ask, the rumor about free tiny dancing Elvis-dressed aliens with our offer isn't true. All groats paid to the club are not refundable. Questions? Comments? Death threats? Email them to: Chewbacon_and_famous@hotmail.com.
"When fears are funny" sounds like the new pseudo-show aired by the Network of Irresponsibility (I'll let you guess who) but is, in fact, a part of what we're going to talk about this week. No, I haven't gone round the bend. Well, not any more so than usual. Allow me to explain. If you've ever lived in New York yourself, you already have a good bead on the topic at hand. If you haven't, I'll illustrate for you. A friend of mine lives in Washington Heights in New York City. She has what she describes as a "moderately mediocre" apartment, which is more or less Manhattanspeak for "slightly larger than a broom closet but significantly less cozy." Her building also has more tenants than those listed in the register... about sixty thousand more. As you have probably surmised, I'm not talking about people. I should also state that my friend has an amazing fear of bugs. The only insects that I know of that she doesn't go into conniptions when she sees are ladybugs and fireflies... and the latter because she's fascinated that they can light their butts up. Before you mention it, I am well aware my friend needs therapy. So, suffice it to say that cockroaches are not among her best friends. We're talking about someone who stood on a bed and screamed her head off when a centipede ran across the floor. How she's planning on surviving NYC is beyond me. She keeps a clean apartment, don't misunderstand. It's just that when you have so many insects in the building, they can't all stay with the superintendent. So, the overflow has moved in with her. This has brought about the Opera of Screaming. Reportedly, the tenants association is circulating two petitions: one to evict her, the other to merely muzzle her. I'm well aware that she's not the only person to fear bugs. A lot of people do, although I'm not one of them. Be that as it may, my friend is far from the only person who stands on a chair and screams like a ninny when they spot an organism one-billionth their size. Add into that how most of us keep house in Fed, and we have a good equation, the answer being: it's a good thing we don't have cockroaches (or for that matter, any other bugs) running around loose in Fed... or at least not in great numbers. And not just because we'd have people screaming their brains out instead of hauling. Let's not forget that we routinely trade in somewhat hazardous materials. If your ordinary roach were to get ahold of them, we'd end up with 90-foot long roaches that are armored like tanks. New York cockroaches already drink Raid like martinis. Our roaches wouldn't even be bothered by napalm. You can forget the manual approach, too; if you were to throw a brick at a New York cockroach, you have only succeeded in arming it. Throwing a bulldozer at a Fed roach would only entice it to play fetch. Sure, I'll allow that we're losing a grand source of entertainment. Despite the fact that for a few minutes my friend is convinced something far worse than a live nuclear weapon has landed in front of her, it is a really rather amusing show to watch. She even laughs about it - afterwards. So while we could be enjoying such things in Fed, we are sadly deprived. Yet, we seem to have adapted much in the same way cockroaches could adapt to any environmental conditions short of the end of space-time. We just give people gallons of beer and watch the fun.
JOURNAL
OF A SURVIVOR REJECT Hello, my name is Danny, and I'm a reject loser. Yes, it's true, I did not win on Survivor. But it's ok, because, like some other Survivors, I wrote down my (totally accurate) experiences in a journal. Not very long entries mind you, I don't have that kind of attention span. But entries nonetheless. So now, for your reading pleasure, my experiences on the island. Yes, Mac, the island. Ha ha. Day 1: Day 2: Day 3: Day 4: Day 5: Day 6:
CAN YOU
BELIEVE THIS? The I Love Chewbacon Club has been going smoothly. A few WTs had invested in membership and a Fedder here and there have joined the club. I was sitting in my office signing a few forms and fighting lawyers on the phone. My secretary called me and said, "Calyx is here." "Does she have an appointment," I asked. "No." "Ugh. Send her in anyways, hold my four o'clock." I continued signing papers waiting on Calyx to come into my office. The lights flickered as Calyx was teleported into my space station from the landing pad by the station's teleportation systems. Calyx arrived quietly into my office. We exchanged hugs - hers was hot, mine was nice. "Chewy, I was wanting to ask you about this club," she began. "Ah, good. What about it? Financing membership? We haven't released it to the public yet, but we have good rates." "Well, since you and I have been good friends for a long time, I was wondering if I could just get a free membership." "Oh, you cheap snert," I said pushing my intercom button, "Security – code red, my office!" Code red meant someone was trying to mooch a free membership off the planet's treasury. Calyx looked at me like she wanted to ask, "What the hell are you doing?" Security busted through the doors with Colon Disruptors ready to fire. I noticed the Colon Disruptors as soon as they began clearing. "Colon Disruptors? In my office? I don't think so, use another weapon, I don't want my office smelling of filth." They put away their weapons… Calyx has just vanished. …and pulled out their pistols. "Oh, great! You just let her get away," I complained. I have no idea what her problem was. Fortunately, after a call from the law firm of Chewbacon, Calyx and Johnson she paid her fines and then joined the club. Way to go, Calyx! Questions? Comments? Death threats? Email them to: Chewbacon_and_famous@hotmail.com.
WALKING
ALONG AND SINGING A SONG: THE LIFE OF A WANDERING HOBO An old hobo plods past you, his bindle slung over one shoulder. These are the words that greeted me upon meeting one of Sol's great enigmas, the wandering hobo. Intrigued by this fellow on the many times I'd seen him, I recently went undercover to learn more about the man and what existed under that dingy, gruff facade. I paused and took a good look at this man who was to become my next story.
I shuddered in sympathy for this happy-go-lucky vagabond; however, it wasn't long before a friendly passerby gave him a new coat they'd found. But what was this?! As he donned the new coat, the hobo gave his benefactor a hefty tip of over 1500 Ig! I was astonished that someone as shabbily attired as this man possessed these kind of funds. Even more intriguing was the fact that he'd depart with this cash as easily as if he were tying his shoe or buttoning his new coat. Curiosity piqued, I was resolved to find out this man's secret. It wasn't long before I discovered it. I trailed the pan-handler to the Mental Rehabilitation Hospital, where I assumed he was going for treatment. To my utter astonishment, he disappeared into the offices of the Imperial Courtroom. After an hour passed, an impeccably dressed and freshly showered hobo/judge emerged! So that's where this man got his money! It turned out that this hobo, who I'd imagined had, at best, a drug dealing scam on the side to get cash, was in fact an imperial judge who enjoyed traveling incognito. This resulted from a desire to be a philanthropist, yet remain anonymous. Moreover, by acting in this fashion, he ensured that only deserving, good-hearted people who weren't above helping their fellow man, received his charity. What a true man of the people! So the next time you see this hobo, just give him a wink and pat him on the back for a job well done.
FED
COMES ALIVE The Report A lot of people will stress over and over that Fed is just a game. I would have to say that many Fedders might have changed their minds this past week in Chicago. Yes, Fed is a game. Yes, it is an interactive game that happens across the computer. Yes, it is a game, but it has brought people from many realms together, face to face, in an enjoyable experience that won't be forgotten. People laughing together in a room that, in the game, may have never talked to each other before. People holding their sides in laughter as stories floated around the room. If you've never attended a Fed Meet, let me share just bits of our time in Chicago with you, and afterwards, perhaps you'll change your mind about traveling across the country to meet people from a game. On Tuesday, July 10, WRKincaid and I set up for the arrivals of Fedders from across the country. We also took that time to somewhat prepare the staff at the hotel for what we anticipated. You know, things like; multitudes of people congregating in one room till wee hours in the morning, talking of space ships and planets as if they were home, teleporting instead of using elevators, the general rowdiness that in the realm of Fed is tame, but to the average hotel staff may seem a bit over the edge. I will take this time to praise the entire staff of the Baymont, they were incredibly understanding, willing to help in everything we asked, offered assistance whenever it was needed, and even made the comments as we checked out, "come back again soon". Tuesday night, room 130 became the Gathering Spot, and bright and early Wednesday morning, the trips to the airport began. Shaman was the first scheduled to arrive, shortly followed by ReRe and her family. Of course, these earthly means of travel aren't as predictable as our beloved ships or teleporters. The flight from New York arrived first, due to weather and a slight airplane dysfunction that left Shaman in a holding pattern at the end of a runway waiting for his gate to open up. Now you may wonder, just how we knew just who to pick up at the airport. There wasn't the handy dandy little alert message: "Duchess ReRe has entered Federation DataSpace". We solved the problem by holding signs, nearly as soon as the plane approached the gate. Large signs that read: "Seeking Duchess ReRe" and "Seeking Duke Shaman". Curious onlookers were soon waiting as well, anxious to see the royalty arrive! If there was disappointment at not getting to gaze upon real royalty in their eyes, they were soon grinning at the hugs that instantly took place, and after the hugs, the introductions. Along with ReRe, was Grand Fran, ReRe's RL mother, who was a bit unsure just how this trip to meet strangers might be. Grand Fran, we all just fell in love with you this last week, with your sweet smile and curious questions. I hope that this experience may have changed your outlook on our "game", and you can see that even though our only bloodline is a computer screen, we are all family of the heart. Once back at the hotel, we began packing goodie bags for all those soon to arrive. Bags filled with T-shirts and buttons and magnets and cards and paper TB notes and tattoos and photo albums and room signs and mugs and more. We giggled and listened to Princess Hillary and Princess Emily (ReRe & Chigin's girls) as they read, somewhat, thru the names of the characters and planets. ::tickles de-girly-her:: ::tickles razer of huge:: That feat accomplished and the shiny bags lined up neatly against the walls of the Gathering spot, we set off for dinner at one of mine and Will's favorite restaurants in Chicago, Tasso's Porterhouse, on the southwest side, where we all enjoyed dinner and real lavender Loverly Amaretto's. And yes, we'll be looking for the whippy waiter to make his groundhog debut soon! (Fed cards can be so fun). Sleep came much later in the evening as we looked forward to the morning arrivals. Our Message board was propped up in the entrance of the hotel, thanks to Manager Ken, where we communicated and left notes of plans and destinations and the general giggles that message boards seem to accumulate. TB notes began appearing under doorways as the day went along. One clan of visitors went to Shedd aquarium, while others met up at the airport and hotel putting character names to real life faces. We met Wingdman, Bront, Kitty, Kup, and Fancy. A petite little blond wagging her tail bearing a roomful of hugs from Wolfyn met us at the door of the Gathering Spot. And, also, met at the door with Kenworth and MsLockley and Ryno armed to the hilt with silly string which covered the room instantly. We were even able to pry Rasal from his room for a hug. Soon we were off with Fed flags fluttering on the antenna's to experience Blue Man Group at a theatre downtown. If you've never seen this show, don't hesitate to take in this experience, words can't even describe it. Satin and Bart met up with us at the show and went off in search of Rum when the others went back to the hotel and chatted late into the night and a whippy fight for the record books. Friday morning brought a very early venture back to Milwaukee to retrieve Duchess Despree, and catch a glimpse of Miller Park Stadium, and hurry back in order to make our destination of Museum of Science and Industry for a IMAX showing of Great Places. Yes, the scene of all the stars in the skies brought hushed whispers of, "there's Carnival, there's Loverly, there's Alwaize, there's... well... it went on and on... bringing giggles to Fedders, and just ponders from the others. We wandered through the museum and it's wonders and set back to the hotel to gather the rest in search of our evening at Medieval Times Restaurant. (Hazed, can't you do something about letting us take our teleporters OUT of Fed, just once in a while?? You've spoiled us and it's hard to deal with Chicago traffic!) Upon returning to the hotel, we found the Gathering Spot run over with Pirates, as Satin and Bart had landed (Rum in hand). We also were met up with BSACarl and Saffire, Dast and his wife, and Pentekar. Evidently, Saffire didn't break out her thwapper soon enough, but, we did get the pictures back on the wall hanging in their correct positions, and silly ones, short sheeting the bed of someone 5 feet tall, is hardly apparent! ::tickles the scamps:: (PS: don't leave your room key in trust with ghosts formerly known as...). We met up with Chigins at the restaurant, and our evening in the pageantry of medieval Times was awesome, with our little band of royalty strutting with the noble squires of the evening proved to be entertainment to all. Wolves make great ghost-sitters! Thank you to the poor little lass that got nominated to snap the pictures of our group of 24 at the doorway. What do you bet she doesn't volunteer for door duty any time soon! A quick shot back to the hotel, and then a race to the airport for Dan and Uno and then a redirection of the TTTT party to a room down the hall let Will and I and Despree catch a few winks of sleep before Saturday began. I did miss Ryno eating the bugs though, Rere, I do need pictures. Saturday was split a bit, as some went to the Ren Faire, and some to Navy Pier. Strangely, my spy beam wasn't working, so I can only relate Ren Faire activities. Many of those attending the Ren Faire were soon donned in their costumes and sent off for a day of merriment transported back in time. Our buttons brought many questions and comments, and even some bows, met with an instant handing out of cards. Shammy, no matter what anyone says, you look great in a pair of tight leggings... just ask Despree. Shows and jousts and shopping and eating and laughter filled the day, and as they escorted us off the grounds (come on, we're from Fed, it doesn't close until morning, we weren't ready to leave yet! ) we traveled down the road to Gurney Mills mall, where we ate at Rainforest Café. That in itself wasn't nearly as fun, as posing for pictures from area shoppers who wanted their pictures taken with royalty (hands you a card). We ventured back to the hotel to find the ongoing partiers and gathered together to share our day's activities. Regretfully, our time together outside of DataSpace was drawing quickly to an end. Sunday morning was filled with hugs and promises of "next year" as the airport departures drew closer. We have the pictures, and we have the memories, and we have the giggles to carry us through the next few weeks in Fed, and yes, we'll have next year. Thank you to the little maintenance man that was probably way delayed in his morning routine, who took the time to snap picture after picture of the whole group of us (minus Wolfyn and Ryno) in the gathering spot for one last picture... or 10... or 20. The ones headed to the Cubs game ventured off and we extended checkout on the Gathering Spot to be able to stay as long as possible. Fed is a game. It's filled with puzzles, and planets, and people. It also brought some of that fantasy to real life for those that attended. WINGS, Duit, Rum, Onyx, it just didn't matter outside DataSpace. The planets may not have been there, or else no one had gone to the bench to change their canned hotel rooms descriptions (no matter how hard Ryno tried.) The puzzles were there, and yes, I believe I have pictures of all of you trying to do them. But it was the people of Fed that were there, that made this Fed experience one to remember forever. Chicago Fed Meet is one where kids and families are welcomed, and it's also a place that brings a whole new bond to people that enjoy a game that brought us together in the first place. It may get wild a bit, but not to where it's unsafe, or unruly, or determining one to never want to attend another. There were hugs and laughter and stories and experiences and tears. We all had a good time. We all had a really good time. It was sad to have to leave. We gathered in Fed Sunday night, slowly, as everyone slid back to their homes, and sought out the game for the first time in days... the one with the keyboard… we'd lived the real game for days, and it was incredible. Thank you all, and thank you Fed, you attract an interesting breed of people that I am proud to be a part of.
Pictures of the meet are available at: http://www.homestead.com/pepperland/Chicago.html
I'll never forget any of you because of this trip, and I'd like to thank each and every one of you who made the trip to this meet. ReRe and Chigins, you two are amazing, thank you for all your help, I'll never forget. Hillary and Emily and Fran, I miss you already, you were unexpected bright spots to us all. Saffire and Carl, thank you, and Carl, I hope your first flight brought a whole series of happy memories, and know we WILL make time for Smore's next trip! Kup and Kitty, thank you so much for driving in, it was wonderful to get to meet you. Bront, thank you for all your Chicago experience and helping us with discounts and directions. Ken and Mary and Nathan, thank you, your home on wheels is amazing, now I'll know which truck to wave at as it passes thru Milwaukee. Dan and Uno, you both make me smile! Congrats on your engagement and upcoming wedding and letting us "2 time Chicago Meet Fedders" be a part of your lives together. (These two met LAST Chicago fed meet.) Wolfyn, thank you, for all that you did and the costumes you brought and all that you are, and sorry you lost your tail. ;) ::hugs:: Ryno, what can I say about you, but thank you for convincing me over a year ago, this was something we needed to do, again and again. But I'm not giving you my room key again! Rasal, next year you'll know us, so you won't have to be quite so shy, but that is a cute lil blush you have! Fancy, thank you for making the trip to the Midwest meet, and I hope it measured up to all those you've been to in the past. Pentekar, thanks for making the unexpected trip, Satin and Bart, I hope this meet was more than you expected it to be, we enjoyed getting to meet you both... arrrrgh... ::cough:: okay... I'll work on it. Despree, thank you for wanting to come, and showing me that I can mix RL and Fed to a degree. Dgallagher, as alwaize, you bring me smiles, and yes, I will find different puzzles for next year... be prepared! Shaman, I thank you. Thank you beyond words for your trip here. I love you dearly, doncha know. And know I now have a daughter who grins from ear to ear. ::hugs you close:: Will, you are amazing, I can't thank you enough for all that you do, for all of us, for Fed and for me and my heart. For those that missed this meet, we missed you terribly, and hope to meet up with you soon, if not next year. Sargon, meeting you after it was all over was great, hopefully next year, your plans will let you include the meet. Demi-Goddess' & Company, and Sir, your packages are in the mail.
THE
GREAT CHICAGO FED PARADE OF 2001 Ladies and gentlemen, readers of all ages and descriptions, fellow asylum residents, it is my great pleasure to announce that once again Fedders have descended on the Chicago metroplex and have successfully induced fear in all the unarmed residents! Yes, the Chicago 2001 FedMeet was a rousing success! And, to justify my expense report I will be submitting to my editor shortly (mainly because I can't afford the damages costs on my own), I will share with you the experiences, trials, tribulations, laughs, and near-arrests of the Meet! Please note, I didn't arrive until Thursday morning, so I essentially missed a day of the Meet. Blame my boss. I do. A special note to the people at the Meet: As you found out in Chicago, I am *terrible* with names. Odds are good that I have forgotten several in the lists of who was where. This is not because I don't like you, it's because my brain has been shrinking for the last ten years or so and is now about the size of a raisin. Blame my boss. I do. -THURSDAY- In order to make budget airfare that didn't include the word "freight" in the description, I had to settle for a 6.03am flight from my hometown. This meant I had to be actually awake and alert by 3.00am. We're talking about someone who doesn't move without the aid of hydraulics before 10.00am. However, the sheer excitement of seeing my friends propelled me out of blissful slumber at a rate equalled only by snails and certain marsupials. No, I actually managed to move fairly quickly and got to the airport with an hour to spare. The plane ride was about as much fun as rappelling without a rope. To begin with, once the door was closed, they immediately pressurized the plane. I don't mean they started to pressurize it, just >WHAP< and it was pressurized. If it weren't for my gum, I think I'd have a skull the size of a peanut. The takeoff was thankfully uneventful. In fact, the ride was great until the Friendly Crewmembers came along and offered me a "snack." After a small cardboard box was unceremoniously thunked down in front of me, I inspected my suspected meal. It contained:
Upon landing in Chicago, I was met once again by Myangel and WRKincaid. Angel attempted to break my ribs with a hug (again!) and Kincaid tried to snap a few metacarpals with a handshake (they survived). Upon crossing the warzone otherwise known as the Chicago Beltway, we arrived at the Baymont Inns and Suites - the official locale for the Fed Meet. It bears mentioning that the hotel staff started out friendly, but as the weekend wore on, we gathered more and more looks of fear. Most of them didn't speak English well, and I think they were more than a little scared that a cadre of possessees had landed. Upon arriving at the hotel, I met up with my roommate, Shaman, as well as Bront, and Wingdman. Kup and Kitty were due in later that afternoon (they ended up arriving late), so we decided to go to lunch at the local Friday's while we waited. The servers at the restaunt seemed to tolerate us (they expected one big tip, though), but the clientele kept giving us strange looks - possibly because we insisted on talking to our drinks and loudly discussing subjects you might not want to talk about loudly in public. Somehow, they let us leave alive. The next few hours are a blur to me. Before you ask, no, I didn't drink. I did something far worse for my health. Angel had, for some as-yet unknown reason, brought these strange metal puzzles with her. The general idea was to take them apart, then be able to put them back together again. Although I eventually did solve all five, I managed to injure myself a few times in the process. I'm comforted by the fact that Shaman was also cursing at inanimate objects. To his credit, he also solved all five. Thus became the rule that nobody could talk at the Meet until they solved the puzzles. This helped weed out the people who'd been drinking too much. It didn't, however, weed out Rere's children. Yes, folks, Rere was there, but more on that later. Also in attendance were her two children, Hillary and Emily, who apparently have better manual dexterity than any other human. They had both solved the puzzles before I even arrived in Chicago. Needless to say, they made Shaman and myself feel about as stupid as possible.That evening, though, a number of us (among whom were WRKincaid, MyAngel, Rasal, Shaman, Rere, and myself) headed off to downtown Chicago in search of the Briar Street Theatre. Since Chicago evidently doesn't believe in labeling all of their streets, we barely made it in time. But it's a good thing that we did, because as we were to find out later, the Blue Man Group hates late walk-ins. Most of us know them from those bizarre Intel ads for first the Pentium III and later the Pentium 4 chips. Their unique music and (surprise!) blue heads stand out in memory. However, their stage show stands out even more. If I could, I'd describe it, but it's really impossible. Suffice it to say that I'd be willing to brave New York traffic, parking, and residents to go see them again... and again, and again, and again. I highly recommend their show. -FRIDAY- On Friday, a large group of us trundled off to the Museum of Science and Industry in downtown Chicago. MSI is another place I'd quickly recommend to someone visiting Chicago. Not only is it packed with things that are truly fascinating, but also has several cool toys, such as the Amazing Mini Coal Mine and the Model Of Fed... or at least that's what we dubbed it. It was actually a model of a network, showing how packets travel from node to node and illustrating how the loss of nodes can affect network response times. We used it as a graphical representation of why Fed occasionally lags and crashes by randomly switching nodes on and off, and occasionally disconnecting the entire network. The other visitors were starting to look at us funny after we loudly cheered "We crashed Fed again!" for the tenth time as all the nodes went red and the alarm started up again. People also shot us odd looks as Kitty, Kup, Bront and I took a picture of ourselves through a thermal camera. Frankly, I think it's a good picture, but I've also been known to appreciate photos taken through lens caps. I should also point out that I had the foresight when in the space gift shop to buy some dehydrated rations for the flight home. Friday night was witness to Medieval Times. As you may recall if you've been reading my stuff since last year, we went to Medieval Times at the last Fed Meet. Amazingly enough, we were put with the Black and White Knight again, and we lost - again. However, we had great seats and had a great time again, despite the fact our knight seems cursed. We consoled ourselves by thinking that every knight there takes a turn as winner, and it's probably settled by a rock-paper-scissors elimination tournament backstage before the show. Our guy shouldn't have picked scissors so often. Later that night, Unomee and Danmathman arrived in town. Myangel, WRKincaid, and I headed to O'Hare to pick them up. This is when the walls started talking to us. Specifically, an archway. It started off somewhat polite ("You have entered a restricted area. Leave immediately.") but quickly got cranky, especially when it said "Systems arming" followed by a countdown from five. We ran at two. -SATURDAY- On Saturday, WRKincaid, Myangel, Shaman, Rere, Chigins, Kup, Kitty, Bront, and I all headed off for the Illinois Renaissance Faire. Since we're all medieval nuts, the faire was a natural place for us to go. WRKincaid, Angel, Shaman, and myself wandered the faire as a group. Since we moved slowly, we didn't even come close to seeing all of the faire, but that's okay, since I managed to find a nice leatherbound book to scribble in, as well as the Sword from Heaven. If any of you out there have trained with a bladed weapon as I have, you know there are some weapons that just feel right. For those of you who haven't, trust me on this; it's similar to how you know a car was just made for you. This particular sword was a heavy rapier. The blade itself was of good weight and well-balanced, but the true beauty of the sword was in its grip. The handguard was sculpted from an angel, arms out at his sides, wings extended and curved down towards his feet. The guard was beautiful and functional. I instantly fell in love with it. And if it weren't for the $1700 price tag, I would've bought it. To the credit of the faire, the falconry exposition was wonderful, and the entire faire was very memorable. We medieval loons felt right at home.On the way back to the hotel, we stopped at the local Rainforest Cafe, which happened to be situated in a mall. Therefore, now is a good time to mention that most of us went in costume, and that a certain male someone's costume included tights. This brought still more strange looks from people in the mall, but we also had a short but lucrative photo career. Dinner, however, was good. Later that night, Bartholomew, Satinsheets, Kenworth, Bsacarl, Saffire, Unomee, Danmathman, Kup, and I all congregated upstairs and did our best to draw the attention of hotel security. Surprisingly, they didn't show up (I think they were afraid of us by then), but it wasn't for a lack of trying. Unfortunately, I really can't write about the conversations that flew back and forth that night since this is a family-rated newspaper. That and I'm afraid I'd blow up my computer. I can, however, say that I'm very happy to have met Bart, Satin, Carl, and Saffire in the real world. Although you can be friends, close friends, with people in Fed, sometimes you don't realize just how well you get along with people until you meet them face-to-face and show them what a screwball you are. These people are threatening lawsuits against me for injuries sustained while laughing (I'm not kidding). They're all great people to be around (Bart and Satin are surprisingly civil when not engaged in acts of piracy, infrequent as that may be), and I'm very glad to know each of them. Carl and Saffire are wonderful people, too. Carl and I shared quite a few laughs since we were among the sober minority and especially enjoyed Saffire's solo performance of interpretive dance when the floor started moving (she had a bit to drink). This is not to say, of course, that these are the only people I enjoyed meeting. I'm always happy to see Myangel and WRKincaid, and Shaman continues to be a good friend of mine. I also thoroughly enjoyed meeting Kitty, Kup, and Bront. Kitty and I have had fantastic conversations in the past, and I was extremely happy to see she was just as articulate in person. This is a common thing you discover at Meets: the people you really like online you'll really like in the real world. At least that's how I feel about it. Once again, my money-saving airfare required a strange flight time. I must thank WRKincaid for taking me to the airport at 4.00am so I didn't have to pay a cabbie my entire yearly salary. I managed to catch my flight home and didn't starve thanks largely to the fact I was too tired to stay awake through the flight. Arriving home was, as it was last year, somewhat of a let-down. It's hard, after meeting people you rarely get to see, to adjust back to your usual life. But Fed offers us a consolation prize of sorts, which people in similar situations might otherwise not be able to enjoy. Leaving doesn't mean you have to say goodbye.
YAK,
YAK, BLAH, BLAH… I am a w00kie. Therefore, I eat like one, talk like one and, what I'm focusing on here, screw up like one. Unlike your w00kie, most of the time I screw up by saying the wrong thing at the wrong time. Other w00kies on my planet of Providence just can't do anything right (why do you think I'm their overlord?). The strangest thing occurred to me the other day when Hazed was on 9: I only say the worse things at the wrong time when staff is around. But I'm not talking about little 'worse' things, I'm talking about things that Hazed chews my bacon for when she hears about them. Hazed announced herself on 9 and to not say anything wrong, I reminded myself of some notes my father wrote down while at a meeting for selecting the new chief at their police department: "Rules of engagement:
I couldn't just keep my mouth shut, that's much too difficult. So I did the next best thing: I opened my desk drawer and slammed my head in it six times. This would insure that I would only say something that didn't make a morsel of sense. I believe it worked like a stick in a chocolate factory! Questions? Comments? Death threats? Email them to: Chewbacon_and_famous@hotmail.com.
FED
OP-ED: GOING DOWN THE PAN Have you ever thought about how realistic Federation is? Yes, I know it is sci-fi based, and YES I know we can't travel this casually to other planets. But just think about it: You have to eat in order to survive. Sure, you can go without food for a while, but eventually it catches up to you. If you don't die of starvation first, you end up shoving massive amounts of food down your throat. You need to buy fuel – and it definitely isn't cheap. And, just as you have probably discovered while driving to a vacation spot, the fuel costs more "on-the-go" than it normally costs. However, there is one thing that does not sit right in my stomach. The one thing that zaps the realistic factor out of Federation. The loo. "The loo?" you may ask. Yes. The loo. How many times have you honestly stopped at the loo? Compare that to your real life loo usage. In the words of a character who I'm too lazy to remember the name of in the play ANYTHING GOES, "There's somethin' wrong here." I decided to do an investigative report to truly show the usage of the loo (and also because typing "INVESTIGATIVE REPORT" makes me feel special in a way).
Not using the loo? That is either really unsanitary or there is something physically wrong with the players in Fed. Maybe I should try a different approach.
The descriptions don't seem to conflict that much. They could have all seen the inside of the loo – and yet, it is still very vague. They could be guessing.
Frightening? Yes. I know.
A strong bladder. Is this a common feature in all people of Federation? Perhaps Federation is just a gathering of all the strong bladder-ed people of the world, therefore holding onto its realism. Or perhaps I'm grasping at CO2 here.
Hmm. Could my hypothesis be right? It's beginning to look that way. However, this leaves one question open. If no one uses the loo, why is it so gross and disgusting? >tb macnbc If no one uses the
Loo, what possibilities are there for it being so
disgusting? But how could two mobiles make such a mess? I investigated the usage further. >tb breyer When was your last
experience with the Loo? Hmmm. Maybe it IS true that they have strong bladders, but everyone has to let loose (if you catch my drift) once in a while. Maybe that's when a Fedder secretively passes through the doors of the loo, and does what he/she needs to do.
Well… darn! That doesn't help.
Jelly says, "It's hard
sometimes to think up an idea for an article." * The dialog above was adapted by Jelly's imagination and may, or may not have actually occurred. Actually, I think it was more like. Jelly says, "It's hard
sometimes to think up an idea for an article."
HOW TO
DESIGN A FED GAME My production group of MacnBrelly Studios has had its up and downs over the several months of its existence, as we've tried experimenting with several different new games for Federation. I occasionally get asked how I go about making new Fed games, so with some proddings of a twin laser cannon from a certain unnamed Demi-Goddess, I decided to write an article about it. Over it's career, MacnBrelly has had five Fed games: Who Wants to be a Billionaire (a fairly good success), The Fed Mole (dismal failure), Federation Survivor (an amazing success), The Weakest Interstellar Link (we're STILL kicking ourselves over that one), and our newest game; Win Macnbc's Money (which seems to be off to a good start). So we're batting three for two right now, which is pretty good. Now it may seem like we just say, "Hey, that sounds cool, let's do a game for that" and then run a game for it on the fly, but that's not true at all. A lot of thought, research, and planning goes into the creation of each new game. We always, like everybody else, start with the idea. Usually this is where we get stuck too. I kicked around the idea of a Fed Survivor for nearly four months before I finally figured out how the thing could work. Probably for every game that MacnBrelly has created, there have been three more ideas that we've come up with but haven't really figured out how to follow up on. Then, maybe it's a good idea that some ideas DON'T get followed up on... (who actually WANTS a Fed version of The Price is Right anyway?) After coming up with the idea, we usually study the game show that we're thinking about adapting. In some cases, one or more of us may get a tad bit obsessed with the game in question (just ask Jelly how many times she had to put up with me talking about Millionaire contestants) but it usually works out in the end... we hope. (Breyer still hasn't gotten out of Anne Robinson mode.) After we think we've got the idea behind the show down, we move on to begin planning for the new game. Some games require less prep time than others (I've gotten a week's game of Billionaire ready in under an hour, while Fed Survivor took well over a month), but it's generally worth the effort. From our failures, I've learned one general rule for planning a new game: "Keep it simple, stupid." If the game is ruthlessly complex and takes hours upon hours of writing and researching, then it probably isn't worth the effort. (Fed Survivor, as complex as it was, was really just an assembly of a bunch of simple tasks done over time.) Weakest Link (cringe) was an example of this, with well over 50 questions needed to be written just for ONE GAME. Fed Mole also had a similar problem, with having to plan challenges and game plans and location scouting on multiple planets for a two-week long game... double the time of Fed Survivor. Now despite what some people may think, we at MacnBrelly do actually have lives... we think... and can't feasibly devote the time and resources to such monstrous projects with just the three people we have. After all the planning that goes into a game, the final step is just to announce a time and date for the new game, cross our fingers, buy several rabbits' feet, help an old lady across the street to get the good karma going, and wait... and hope... and pray. The execution of the game is everything. Even if all of the planning is done perfectly, if you screw up when it comes to presenting the game, it's Game Over (no pun intended.) If the players see the pacing as too slow, too fast, or the host as too dull, or too talkative, then the game isn't going to get very far. Weakest Link is our shining example of a badly executed game. As great as the writing was, and as great a host as Breyer is, the timing was off on EVERYTHING and the whole game became a jumbled mess. It's nights like those that you can usually find me under a table in CDs. Other times, things flow just right.. in Billionaire, we kept the game flowing, the contestants interested, and everything went well. Win Mac's Money is showing some promise at this, and while it still is being tweaked a bit, is probably going to end up being a really great game. When hosting the game, one has to remember that most people are going to have a preconceived notion of what the host is going to be like or how the host is going to act. When people go see Billionaire, they expect a personality like Regis. On Weakest Link, the game is not the same without an Anne Robinsonesque character. In Win Mac's Money... they expect... umm... whoever hosts Win Ben Stein's Money... I forget his name. But it's also important to inject some of your own personality into the character as well, so you don't come across as acting unnaturally. In some games the balance is skewed more one way than it is in others; in Billionaire, I am more Regis than I am Macnbc, yet in Fed Survivor, I was almost 90% Mac and 10% Jeff Probst. (For the record, Breyer WAS Anne Robinson for Weakest Link, some believe that the TV host's spirit temporarily took control of Breyer's body.) Well, that's pretty much it! If any other aspiring game producers out there have any questions, feel free to ask me any time, I'll probably refer you to my secretary or something but you'll at least get that good I-just-got-put-off-by-Macnbc feeling! And isn't that all that matters? Oh, one last thing... if you do make a game, and it doesn't work... it's not my fault. Especially if you do a Fed version of The Price is Right. Remember to keep your pets spayed or neutered.
I finally got my ears tattooed. It was painful and horrid, and Tattoo Lou's breath was enough to send even a marsrat scuttling for cover. It will prove worth it someday, and I'll be recognized by canines everywhere as a major contributor in the Fight To Duck Any Responsibility. Maybe they'll even hang my holo right there next to Pete the Pup, inventor of the Sad Puppy Dog look. Inside my right ear I have the words "It Wasn't" scribed in permanent blue ink. Inside the left ear the tattoo reads "My Fault". Now I can cock up both ears in the blink of an eye anytime something goes wrong in DataSpace and immediately absolve myself of any blame without dropping the steak bone in my mouth. Even on days when her demi-goddess has imbibed so many of those pink frothy drinks that she's reading from right to left, she'll know that My Fault It Wasn't. There are still some bugs to work out with this new fault avoidance technique. Ear-muscle toning exercises are a must, as I found a couple weeks ago when Ashkellion reported that Slarti's was experiencing problems from a hostile AI roaming through the empire computers. My ears twitched and heaved in my efforts to deny culpability when Hazed read his report. Since I'd just been napping on my right side and that ear was a little numb, all the demi-goddess saw were the words "My Fault". "It wasn't me!" I cried, ears still flapping wildly as I backed away from the now rolled-up report in her hands. "I've not been anywhere near those computers since I chewed the cables and caused that crash… er… ah…" Well, I got nose whapped anyway, which was a great miscarriage of justice. I really wasn't the AI in the computers; it was just that the font Ashkellion used looked more like a planet reviewer than an artificial intelligence bug. And if I wasn't guilty of that, then surely I couldn't have been responsible for those chewed cables either! Excuse me, I have to get back to my exercises now. Right ear up, left ear up, both ears down, right ear up, left ear up…
It's a good thing we don't have lawyers in Fed. We'd be up a certain creek without a paddle... or even a boat for that matter. When you look at the "real" world, you can easily see why. Let's be honest, people; we live in a world of complete bozos. Sure, there are a few reasonable people around (us, correct), but many are as daft as roofing tar. And it is because of these people that we suffer from a debilitating mental condition. Frivolous warnings. It is because of, well, dumb people we're saddled with meaningless warnings. I cite as a prime example (and many of you probably thought of the same one) the little line on every coffee cup now: "Caution: contents hot." Well, I should hope so. But we have that line of noninformation because someone spilled coffee in their lap and it was - gasp - hot. This resulted in a lawsuit whose stone stupidity is beyond any unintentional grasp. It is because of similar lawsuits that we are stuck with "do not take this hairdryer into the bathtub," "don't stick your foot under this lawnmower," and (my personal favorite) on candles: "flammable." If they weren't I guarantee you I'd be in the lawsuit line. Now, I'd like you to think of Fed for just a moment. In that moment, I guarantee you'll think of at least a thousand things that are extremely hazardous to our health. And I'm not even including in that listing the EXTREME DANGER POSED BY SOME PEOPLE WHO HAPPEN TO OWN WHIPPED-CREAM SPRAYING DEVICES! Sorry, got carried away. I guess I'd mind more if these people weren't some of my dearest friends. As it is, it's... interesting. And that's all most of these events are: interesting. Interesting in that nobody managed to put two-and-two together and come to the conclusion that, yes, lawnmower blades have the potential to hurt your foot or that hot coffee might burn if you pour it into your lap. Considering that most of us spend our Fed lives completely pickled, I think it speaks well for us that we don't have any of those inane warnings. Many of us have blundered into situations that were - or nearly were - lethal. What did we do? Laughed, were laughed at, reinsuired, and went on our merry way. These are the marks of people who know when they're being stupid and accept it for what it is: a divine attempt to tell us not to breed. I'm not belittling the people in the "real" world that brought about these lawsuits. I'm merely stating fact: most of us don't need such warnings; we figured out long ago that candles might, under the wrong circumstances, catch fire. I'm also saying that I'm very grateful we don't have the means to sue each other in Fed. Nobody would ever hang on to money long enough to actually do anything with it. So let's all sit back and breathe a collective sigh of relief. Of course, the potential DOES exist that some day we might end up with law offices opening in Fed. If that does happen, I already have a solution I'm ready to implement at a moment's notice. The only trouble is getting cold coffee to catch on. As always, if you'd like to mail me something (other than bills, junkmail, or the like), the address is Horatio_TheWriter@excite.com!
WORKTHINGY
DISASTER ON PROVIDENCE LANDING PAD Call it Earth truck-driverish, but when I land my ship I always leave the engines idling while I'm away from it. To me, it's a waste of time to wait for the engines to warm up and besides, my battery is so undependable, I'm afraid it will die on me and I'd have to jump start – that would be a disaster. So one morning I left my ship to get some breakfast before running a quick haul and sorting through my email (it's a daily task, gets pretty routine and you don't realize you're doing it). Standing in my bar, I heard an alert, "Code 61! Code 61! All emergency personnel report to landing pad." "Code 61," I said, "Isn't that a broken case of beer?" The waiter bot threw a rock and hit me in the head and said, "It's an incident involving a ship, idiot!" I scrambled down to landing pad and saw orange rafts sifting the ocean waters. First of all, it's not a good thing when you have a disaster happen on a landing pad that is lifted just a few feet off of a raging ocean. I'll get to my second point in a moment… After asking around, I figured out some moron stepped too close to my engine's intake and was blown out into the ocean like a rag doll (or so the workthingies said). My second point: it's not a good thing when your workthingies are searching for a body when they should know darn good well that he's more than likely radioactive workthingy chum. Insurance rates have tripled (do the math) after this little mishap and two workthingies found fate inside of a Providencian shark's mouth. Now people clear the landing pad as I land and my ship is shown on radar and after a couple more law suits over the workthingy deaths (and the I Love Chewbacon Club) I had to offer three days off (used in an organized manner to keep things running smoothly) per workthingy and increase social security benefits by ten percent. Selfish workthingies! Oh, and if anyone has heard rumors flying around that Providence workthingies should 'watch out' while working on the landing pad and in the new deep sea habitat, know that those are completely false.
FED
OP-ED: THE MARRIAGE GAME You may notice a common theme in this week's article. See if it is too hard to guess.
"No, and not any more.", says Macnbc. Kao smiles, "Yes... and no comment" "No, and why not?!", exclaims Evileric. "No, and I guess not.", says Rasal. "Okay, um... been married to quite a few people.", says Derian. "But uh... recently Danny, and yeah, well, we got married at a slave auction on xmas eve, but then we realized the marriage was a sham about 3 days ago, so I married Xyli and then we all got married", says Derian. Derian says, "So it's this circle... or something." Derian says, "There were a few divorces in there too." Danny says, "Yes I have. The story is too long for this article, but it's interesting, I'm sure."
Danny says, "Most memorable? I'd have to say first... no, second... to Derian." Derian says, "Danny, he's the only one who I've actually been married to for more than a month before they mysteriously leave Fed." Macnbc says, "Ryno and Artopia. It was done well, it was a long time coming, and there was a real chemistry there." Rasal says, "I'm always fond of the marriage between ale and a mug." Arrogant says, "A blessed thing to be sure." "Oh, you didn't mean which one of mine...", says Derian. Derian chuckles nervously. "She just asked in general Der... I'd think your own marriage would be most memorable to you", says Macnbc with a wink. "Cressida and Onyxgod is probably the most memorable to me. The end of that era came the night of their wedding. Big catastrophe. Boom.", says Derian. Macnbc says, "If it wasn't... there's a problem." Kao has been to too many FED weddings to keep them all straight... but I'd agree with Mac about Ryno and Artopia Evileric has been to NO Fed weddings.
Jelly takes really good notes Derian says, "People that are evil, like me. So therefore, Xyli, Geiiga, and Danny." "One that says yes.", says Rasal with a wink. Danny says, "In a Fed spouse, I look for a female." Evileric sidles over toward Derian. Derian says, "And Eric, he's evil too." "I've taken myself off the market, so I don't look for anything", says Macnbc with a wink. Evileric says, "I'm still on the market, but I don't do much of the looking." Noc is a confirmed bachelor, and will never marry. ;)
Derian says, "Monty. He's dark and mysterious." Danny says, "I'd marry myself. I'm as close to a mobile as a player can get." Kao says, "The urban spaceman... love the outfit." Kao says, "And I tried talking to him before I knew he was a mobile." "I'd marry Diesel, well because it's Diesel.", says Rasal. Evileric winks and says, "I think I'd go with that hottie technician on Venus." "Let's see. I think I'd marry...", says Readerboy. Readerboy exclaims, "Yea!" "I'd marry him!", exclaims Readerboy. "isn't the one on Venus a she?", asks Evileric. Readerboy says, "I dun think so." Evileric retracts his answer until further notice! <Evileric went off to solve the mystery of the technician.> Readerboy laughs. Evileric has just arrived. "Verdict?", you ask. Evileric says, "I resubmit my answer, she's female... and I'm a Baron." "Congrats Eric.", says Rasal.
Jelly winks Noc winks and says, "She hasnt met the one...?" "Because I'm unavailable.", says Rasal. "Been out of the fridge too long", says Macnbc with a wink. "Because everyone's already married to me, and she won't marry me too.", says Derian. Kao winks and says, "Cuz her Dad Mac is too cheap with the dowry" Danny says, "Because all the guys are obviously idiots for not sending an e-mail to bejellyshusband@yellowhat.org." "Too selective in WHO they're going to administer the application to", says Evileric.
YOU
COULD BY MARRIED TO JELLY RIGHT NOW What's wrong with you people? I mean really, what're you thinking? You, yes you, could be married to Jelly. That's right. And you're not. How could you marry Jelly, you may ask? It's very simple. All you have to do is apply. That's right, one little application and you could have a wife that, yes, has Crazy Taxi. That's right, I'm not making this up folks. How does one submit an application? It's simple, just go to http://bejellyshusband.homestead.com or e-mail bejellyshusband@yellowhat.org. What should you put on the application? Here's a list, taken from the official Be Jelly's Husband web site:
So what are you waiting for? Email today! Lines are open and operators are standing by. The top applicants will be interviewed, and the winner will marry Jelly in a formal ceremony in the First Dannitarian Church of Raptorian. Be Jelly's husband today!
ALSATIAN'S
LACK OF PLANET REVIEW There's something up with that dog... he's listless, he won't eat, he won't chase sticks when I throw them, he even ignored the little bichon frise I brought in to try and tempt him. And she's such a cute little bundle of white fluff that even I, the hard-hearted demi-goddess, fell in love with her! But not Alsatian; all he does is lie in his kennel and sigh heavily. Believe me, for Alsatian to ignore food AND the opposite doggy sex, means something is seriously wrong. Trouble is, I know that dog. He's a good actor. He could win the oscar for canine emoting. He might be malingering. He can be such a lazy hound, maybe he's just trying to stop me sending him out to review planets. I will have to get the vet in. Once she starts brandishing that big thermometer around, we'll see just how ill the dog is!
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