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WEB FED NEWS YEARBOOKS Earthdate December 2001 |
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WEB FED NEWS YEARBOOKS Earthdate December 2001 |
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INSIDE SCOOP |
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INTERIOR DESIGN FOR SHIPS: PART 1 As a keen Fed worker, hauling goods frantically from planet to planet, you spend a large percentage of your time sitting in your ship's command center. Which wouldn't be a problem if it wasn't so badly designed. Let's face it, the Jarrow engineering weenies concentrate on getting maximum power for minimum weight out of the equipment they put into ships, and they completely ignore what, for me, are the more important issues of comfort and style. Let's take a look at the command center of a standard ship, as it rolls off the production line:
Honestly, from an interior design point of view, it's a nightmare! Nobody has thought out the design from an ergonomic point of view; you have to stretch to reach some controls, and others put strain on all kinds of joints. Aesthetically, the design is just plain ugly, and encourages misery and depression. And functionally, there are many useful gadgets that can be added to the standard control center to make it a real joy to use. In the next three weeks I will be covering those problems and showing you some easy yet effective solutions that will make your hauling more comfortable and less stressful. Look out next week for the first of these articles, which will cover the ergonomics of the command center, and explain how to prevent injury and increase comfort when flying your ship.
INTERIOR DESIGN FOR SHIPS: PART
2 Take a look at the seat in your control center. It's hard and unyielding; it's not shaped like any body I have ever come across; and it's guaranteed to give you back ache. The reason is that Jarrow ships are standardised. In an attempt to provide a model that will suit all kinds of being in the Galaxy, the fittings end up as a compromise that will just about do for everyone, but nobody actually finds comfortable. Result: many thing-hours lost to back pain and other discomforts. Even amongst humans, we encounter a vast array of different sizes and shapes, and when you take account of the various alien races that buy from Jarrow, you can see that the standard seat just won't do. What's needed is seat that is designed for your individual body shape. That's where the Zagabina Chair-O-Matic comes in. It comes in many different basic shapes, each one designed for a different race - for example, the Denebian version has a hole for the tail, and the backrest of the Saurian chair accommodates the spikes. The chairs are made from a flexible material that moulds itself to the individual contours of the spine (or equivalent), thus catering for the different sizes that individuals of each race come from. The chair can be reconfigured to cope with different postures, so you'll be equally comfortable whether sitting upright and alert, or relaxing and lounging after a long hard haul. The covering can be varied too, because it's made out of mood fabric that changes colour and texture by detecting your changes in mental outlook. Come and take a look at the Zagabina Chair-O-Matic in our show rooms on Phobos, and see for yourself why it's the top selling command center seat. While you're in the showroom you can take a look at our top-of-the-range customisable dashboard, with controls placed exactly where they are needed for your particularly body style. You won't have to bend your head to read the dials, or stretch uncomfortably to reach the controls; it will all be at the tip of your fingers (or equivalent). Next week, I'll take a look at the aesthetics of space ship design, and tell you how you can brighten up your command center to make it a much more pleasant working environment.
INTERIOR DESIGN FOR SHIPS: PART
3 We all know that spaceships are painted a manky grey. Not very attractive - in fact, downright depressing. While haulers are encouraged to decorate the outside of their ships in order to stamp their personality on their vessels, the inside, which is only ever seen by the owner, is sadly neglected. Surely no hauler enjoys looking at these plain, grey, untextured walls. No matter how much you're concentrating on your job you always notice your surroundings, and the surroundings in the average command center are the most uninspiring I have ever seen. Designed not to offend anyone, no matter what their taste, the result is so bland as to make you scream. But never fear, Florence is here, and I have the solution. My design agency can revamp your command center to make it suit your individual personality, please your tastes, and provide the ideal working environment. Here's just a few ideas of what can be done to improve those manky grey bulkheads. Use bright, bold colors. Try stripes or other patterns to add interest. Or for more subtle effects, paint a bright base colour then rag-roll a complementary pastel over the top. Change the texture by using stippling techniques. The rough finish is pleasing to the eye and to the touch as well. You could also stencil patterns onto the walls, or add a picture rail and hang your favorite prints. For a complete change, rip out those dull metal bulkheads and replace them with wood - a nice mahogany, or stripped pine for a rustic feel. Change the lighting, moving away from the glare of the command center's fluorescent strips to more indirect, mood lighting. Dimmer switches and colour change gels allow you to vary the brightness and hue of the light as suits your mood. Think about accessories. Scatter cushions in the corners, rugs on the floors, woven tapestries on the walls and throws over the storage chests will add a real homey touch to the command center - and given how much time you spend there, that's what you need. Finally, how's this for an idea. If you want to make your command center the most stylish, add a water feature! A miniature fountain in one corner provides a lovely splashy noise to soothe and rejuvenate, and is also a handy source of fresh drinking water. It hooks up to the ship's water supply with only a little extra plumbing required. For more ideas about how to redecorate your command center, you can visit our showroom on Phobos, where our salesdroid will be delighted to discuss your ideas and come up with a detailed design. Next week, I'll finish off this series by talking about the poor functionality of the basic command center, and how it can be made so much more useful by the addition of some little extras.
INTERIOR DESIGN FOR SHIPS: PART
4 In previous weeks I have talked about the ergonomic and aesthetic problems in the standard command center, as found in all ships sold by Jarrow and their subsidiaries. This week, in my final article, I'm going to look at the actual functionality of the command center. You might wonder what I could possibly find fault with. After all, the command center has all the controls you need to navigate your ship along the spaceways, jump to other systems through hyperspace, and fight off attackers. That's quite true: the functionality of the basic ship is all that you need. However, surely it's not all that you want! Considering that you spend most of your time sitting in the command centre, you would expect it to take care of more than just the basic needs. There's a whole host of gadgets and add-ons which can improve the flying experience. The addition of a simple beverage-holder means that you can ensure your drink - whether a steaming hot coffee or an ice cold Rigellian Emerald gin and tonic - can be easily accessed whenever you want to take a swig. The holder attaches to any surface using a molecular binder, and comes with a handy lid to ensure that drinks won't be spilled during violent manoeuvres. And there's no need to restrict yourself to one beverage-holder - scatter them around the console of the command center to ensure that they are in easy reach no matter what you're doing. Here's a useful device if you like to push your ship to its limits - a detector that alerts you of any Imperial Navy vessels in the vicinity. So if you are in the habit of exceeding the ridiculously low Galactic speed limits, you can slam on the breaks whenever a navy ship hoves into sight. Finally, if you want top-of-the-line, leading edge technology to add to your ship, then we can offer this brand new gadget - a telepathic link to the ship's controls. No more awkward stretching to reach the controls, you just have to think about what you want to do, and the ship will respond. The cranial jack is fitted with only a minor operation, and then your thoughts can steer your ship! The device comes with a book of meditation techniques to enable you to clear your mind of extraneous thoughts before attempting to send commands to the ship. Note that this device is still experimental and the manufacturers offer no warranties and accept no liability for accidents caused by impure thoughts.
That does it. I've had it with the terribly unfair trait system in Federation. Talk about a marked lack of realism. All we get are Stamina, Dexterity, Intelligence, and Strength. Not a word about something that can prevent you from flying, prevent you from driving, and prevent you from enjoying a movie without a telescope. Right, eyesight. Nothing about sight. Some people are gifted with what is considered to be an "all seeing" eye. I have such eyes, but everything they see is blurry. Consequently, like many other people, I'm forced to rely on what the DMV cheerfully refers to as "corrective lenses," which is about on par with calling the walls of the Space Shuttle "atmosphere retainers." There are benefits to these "corrective lenses," of course, and I mean those beyond granting you personally the gift of sight. Such fringe benefits include an increased attractivity with your well-sighted friends, because they can borrow your glasses on a clear night and see for themselves what's going on at that new space station. Of course, these benefits are offset by certain perils, particular in the summer. (Think about that. You're wearing magnifying lenses on your personal eyeballs. Remember those ants from when you were six?) Then, of course, there are those [expletive deleted] perfectly-sighted people in the world, who exist only to make you feel like a mutant at the beach. There are lifeguards whistling at people swimming around other CONTINENTS, and here you sit, unable to see the next TOWEL. Sure, you can put your glasses on again, but I'd like to remind you about the above experiment with the ants. So, it follows in thinking that if you cannot even see a beach towel that has brighter colors than a Coast Guard rescue helicopter, how on Earth (or anywhere else) do you plan on flying a starship? As I understand it, things are much more difficult to see in space... say, a ship travelling at a few thousand meters per second. The odds of someone finding an object like that, even with a computer telling me where to look, are low. Is this possibly why we have those wonderfully nonfunctional battle computers? In addition to firing weapons, does it help us keep from bumping into things we weaker-sighted people might overlook, such as Venus? Or perhaps it's a far simpler system, such as the one that protects us guys from getting lost by saying we're headed into an uncharted sector and not a shortcut. I'm not sure exactly what the story is, and I know I'm probably not going to find out. I won't be able to read it unless I'm laying on it.
my way, feel free to email me at Horatio_TheWriter@excite.com!
LEAVE, GONE, SO LONG THEN You come to Fed, you become addicted and play 8 hours a day, you make friends, you realize the addiction isn’t healthy, you limp about with the thought it isn’t healthy, you try to quit, limp about some more, and finally leave. Everyone will eventually leave. I’m not leaving yet; I still have some terror to strike up around Fed DataSpace. I’m not sure exactly what it is yet, so that must tell you how bad it can be. People leave in a number of ways. Some people who leave Fed won’t even stay too long. Newbies! They play, lose interest rather quickly and leave. First, you get the real, polite newbie:
Our response is usually of the equivalent: "Lots and lots of long, boring nights. Insomnia sucks, doesn’t it?" The rude newbie:
The vulgar newbie:
Other people stay longer. They make friends, known as good people and don’t cause any trouble. Some leave with unnoticeable silence. Others leave a nice, warm post. The type of people who leaves that I really want to stick a fire poker to are the people who love to come back and harass the dedicated Fedders. Their arrival back in Fed DataSpace is sometimes unnoticed until they open their mouth on 9:
Truth is, Fed really isn’t dead yet, won’t be for a long time and I’m really tired of hearing people say it is. It will take a lot more than people leaving from time to time (because most of them come back and some newbies do stay!) and newbies having little or no interest to speak of, to stop Federation from striving. It’s a simple business strategy: Good product + good community = good business.
I am not going to get Hazed a Christmas present this year. Okay, so that’s a little harsh. It would also assure a very painful death for yours truly, so I’ll just shop for her demi-goddessness at the last minute and pretend I’m not going to get her anything. She’ll agonize and sweat over the thought of a Christmas without an Alsatian present (and hey, if she tells you demi-goddessnesses don’t sweat just watch her when she thinks there’s no package with pretty wrappings for her to savagely masticate), then I’ll trot in at the last minute with the usual just-perfect-for-you gift and be a hero once again. I’m a little peeved at Hazed for dumping me on the street outside of the rehabilitation center with orders to stay there and beg until a planet review request came along. For days I quivered in misery, my hips aching from maintaining the required ‘beg pretty’ position. Cruel and heartless people passed by, stopping to laugh, taunt me with pizza crust or tell me their planet just ‘wasn’t quite finished yet’. Someone even left a potted plant balanced on my head, which that black cat started using as his personal litter box. Not only did Hazed subject me to this misery and humiliation, she took my Aibo with her! Late last week Jazir came along and took pity on my shivering carcass, removed the plant from atop my head and directed me towards Estate. Don’t misinterpret this – I was grateful for the release, but I didn’t hesitate to tell the duke that he was much more likely to get a favorable review if he wasn’t laughing his backside off at me. We planet-reviewing formerly-a-mobile frontal-lobe-enhanced hounds have feelings too!
There are days where you just can't get motivated. There are other days where you can't quite wake up. And then there are the days that a tactical nuclear weapon couldn't dislodge you from bed. The worst part about such days is that they usually occur when you most need to be alert, which can result in many terrible accidents, such as showing up to a benefit luncheon wearing pink bunny slippers. On the days where waking up doesn't quite seem to be an option that you could choose for at least the next geologic era, technical details tend to elude you. For example, it could take up to twenty minutes to realize you're attempting to start your car with the plastic keys that go in your child's Fisher-Price "My First Car." You can easily overlook the car parked behind yours in the driveway until you actually meet it. Often, smart people will choose to go back to bed, tax audit or not. I have these days on what appears to be a fairly frequent basis. I think it comes from work-related stress, myself; sleeping well sometimes doesn't happen. Consequently, when the alarm goes off, I begin to think rather hostile thoughts. I am, unfortunately, guilty of the brutal murders of more than ten alarm clocks as a direct result - anything attempting to wake me up is subject to severe physical harm. However, it is the lasting ramifications (such as a plastic key forever lodged in your ignition system) that interest me this week. Primarily because such sleep-induced disasters rarely occur in Fed. Sure, occasionally one of us will be a little tired while flying around and misjudge how many moves it is to the sun (my loyal readers, in unison please: "SUN BAD!"), but that is an easily-corrected situation, assuming you have a couple cells on file at the hospital. Yet, nobody is ever too tired to remember how to mix a proper Manhattan (an exhausted bartender is a hazardous thing - a good Manhattan can turn into something that deserves the name of Newark in such a case), or exactly how to land a ship. This could be why we've relegated most flying tasks to the ship's ersatz computer; long ago we realized that we can reach a level of fatigue that mitigates basic motor functions. We cannot, though, cite the perfect sleepiness cure as our savior, since while we have billions of gallons of ale, I haven't seen more than a few cups of coffee. I like coffee, and I don't mean coffee-flavored ale. At least most of us aren't like me in that few of us are violent when extremely tired. While that could be a benefit to those souls who participate in fighting competitions, there would be a rather severe downside. Namely, nobody would know the time anymore, as all alarm clocks would have long-since been destroyed.
CRAZED A few years ago, the world was struck by annoying bean filled animals that called themselves "Beanie Babies" (pardon me if I misspell the name, but I never got into them). The next year, we were eaten up by Pokemon lead by an electrifying rabbit. This year, we’re stuck with Harry Potter. A little rough in my introduction, but bear with me. I can’t really remember exactly what craze was in Fed way back when I, Chewbacon, came about. I never paid attention to anything (remember, the average adult only pays attention a total of six seconds out of every minute; imagine how it is for a teenager.). I didn’t even stop and pay attention to how the game and life in it had changed. The earliest craze I can remember is:
We still do it today, just like kids still play Pokemon, but it doesn’t mean as much as it used to. Stop and notice that the big thing to do now is play games - whether it is fighting, trivia, or phrase games on channel 10. My statistics aren’t very accurate (been studying for a killer test on Saturday and lost track with Fed), but yes it does seem more people are participating in games in Federation DataSpace. As I usually stop and wonder: what will be the next Pokemon craze? Harry Potter? Beanie Baby? Most of those ideas were just a silly thought that people went nuts over just as someone stops and thinks about playing Jeopardy in Fed or "Who Wants to be a Millionaire". So what could be the next Federation Survivor? Time will tell; not me, I have a test in the morning! Questions? Comments? Death threats? Email them to: Chewbacon_and_famous@hotmail.com.
Having dispatched another Walrus award last week I was finally free to begin my Christmas shopping. First stop was CDs to poll the regulars for their annual wish list. Nightdroid didn’t hesitate to request complete world domination this year. That should be a breeze and I’ll save it for later. Last year Hazed and Freya both requested thin thighs; if I could pull that off world domination should be no problem at all. Bella came up with two items. First was a 3-D rendering artist that would work for no pay, and the second was a Clay computer. The artist is going to take some sniffing around (or a great deal of social engineering!) but the computer was a breeze. Titan provided just the right type of soil, and with a little watering from yours truly I was able to fashion a nice little system out of the resulting muck. I’ll just let it dry for a week or so to lose the little bit of odor still attached and it’ll be ready to wrap. Freya, as usual, requested a pair of six-inch stiletto heels. I had to do a little traveling to find two guys that small but a quick trip to Gorim’s Weapons provided the stiletto knives for them to carry. Teaching them to say ‘I’ll love you forever’ was a little challenging but with practice we overcame their natural backplanet drawl and they’re ready for delivery. I still can’t figure out what she wants with them, but I’m not about to ask. I’ve carefully nurtured the rumor that I’m not going to buy Hazed a gift this year – so don’t say anything - but it’s already purchased, wrapped, and ready to go. Being a beast that sleeps under the table quite often I knew just exactly what her demigoddessness needed. For a whole week now I’ve soaked these socks in perfume, trying to impregnate the essence into the very fibers. I know it’s a little strong, but I’m sure everyone in Fed DataSpace will appreciate the efforts. Remember to do your shopping early, too!
Okay, I've managed to hold off this long on talking about this, but I'm going to say something now, just to let the people who are the cause of this know that this is the time of year I'm about to discuss. I also want to start off by saying that Thanksgiving and all points before are NOT. By those clues, you've likely guessed I'm complaining about the time at which stores believe it's appropriate to put up their Christmas decorations. While I don't exactly find it offensive that stores seem to be putting their Christmas stuff up as the same time as their Fourth of July things, I do find it annoying. And I think many people would agree with me when I say that nothing will move you closer to insanity in a store than seeing a (quasi) realistic paper-mache turkey bunted with a Christmas ribbon. I have a tough enough time keeping my weeks separated without someone with a triple-digit income deliberately combining holidays on me. Well, that's not fair of me. The people who do the actual decorating mean well, and they're only following orders. It's the management. Age old story, really, and one we're intimately familiar with thanks to the beleaguered Sol tax system. I suppose this is why I will probably be eternally grateful to the general store owner on Mars. So far as I've ever been able to tell, he/she/it is evidently unaware there are holidays, and the same displays have been up for decades. Sure, they're getting a little dusty, but at least we don't have the Easter Bunny in an identity crisis because he's wearing a sprig of holly. I think I lost my train of thought somewhere. Anyway, I personally think we should do something about this. Perhaps some sort of legislation that prohibits stores from putting up their Christmas decorations more than 120 days before the actual holiday. I'll leave that to you; I need to go check out something I just saw an ad for. Christmas eggs.
NIGHTMARES! AHH! Christmas is right around the corner again. Everyday, your favorite department or toy store gets busier and busier. Usually on Christmas Eve, before dawn, I go out to the mall, wait in front of the door, the large crowd of people finally arrives, and when the doors open, I sprint to the bench right in front of the doors to the toy store. It’s like watching amateur wrestling; all of those adults fighting over toys. This year I’ll have to make a decision between the toy store and the electronics store. Which would be more entertaining: fist fighting over Xboxes, Playstation 2s and Gamecubes or over Harry Potter merchandise. I’ll figure it out when I get there. For Christmas, that’s usually the only thing I look forward to (besides sneaking Exlax in the cookies). This year I’m also looking forward to sleeping in everyday. I hear it’s bad to get off of my sleeping patterns, but who wants to get up at 5:30 every morning when you have nowhere to go and especially when you aren’t a morning person? And everyone will look forward to the day that marks the end – Christmas Day! On second thought, it isn’t a day to look forward to if you have something to return. For example, if you have a kid and he gets a toy he already has and has to exchange it for a new one that day or the day after. What a nightmare! After thinking of all of these nightmares, what is so merry about Christmas? It is all marked by the beginning of November, you clean, cook, and worry to feed a boat load of relatives just to wrap, shop, clean, cook and worry again right after Thanksgiving. Makes Thanksgiving sound like a training camp for Christmas! Happy Holidays, Fed! See you all next year!
Having placed my carefully chosen Christmas presents under the tree at CDs, I looked around and found the establishment quite empty. I cocked an ear towards the upstairs, and sure enough - strange sounds I’d heard from Diesel and the piano player wafted down the steps. I knew they’d be occupied for a while. I was alone. Alone in CDs before Christmas. Alone with all the wrapped presents that everyone had left under the tree. I battled with my conscience for a bit; trying to decide whether to do a search-and-destroy on all the pretty packages or just peek into the ones marked for me. The peeking won out this year. I started with the present from Nightdroid and was surprised to find he’d gotten me a prosthetic leg, along with a note that asked me to please leave his alone. I’ll try, but I’m sure he’ll miss my leg-loving. Next was the present from Diesel. I carefully ripped and masticated the wrappings and found a single lump of coal from the mines on Venus. Oh, I wasn’t upset at all with this present; I knew that with enough pressure applied (usually from that bat she swings) that this lump of coal might become something I could use to entice some of her stable into venturing into a few games of "Wag the Dog." I nosed away all the rest of the packages looking for the one from Hazed. Sometimes I have to be really careful with her presents; I’m likely to get a packaged whap on the snout. This time I carefully chewed a couple corners until I could make out some of the labeling. I held my breath, my little heart went pitter-patter and drool dripped from my maw. Could it be what I’d always wanted? I ripped the rest of the packing off with a single slash of my incisors. Yes! A new robotic Aibo! And furthermore, equipped with the new S.I.N. version 6.9 software! It was the present of my dreams and I couldn’t wait to try it out. Leaving the package tatters, coal, and leg behind I rushed out of the bar on my two hind legs with the Aibo clutched securely in my front paws. Forget Christmas! As soon as I find some batteries to operate the Aibo’s multi-vibrating utility unit I intend to be one lost dog for the next couple weeks! Uh, I hope the rest of you have a nice holiday too.
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