FEDERATION 2 - PLAYER REVIEWS

ZARDOZ'S HAULING PLAYLIST

Recently, I was working on completing my required Akaturi jobs… Well, not recently… I mean it wasn't necessarily me… OK, I was making another alt! Satisfied?

Anyway, as I cracked my knuckles, and got set to hurtle myself from location to location, I picked up my trusty mp3 player and selected my hauling playlist. Each song had been carefully selected to provide the proper rhythm, and optimum tempo to speed up the completion of my appointed Ak tasks.

As my shuttle left the landing pad to pickup the first job, I pressed PLAY. The over powering organ of Jon Lord and blistering guitar solos of Ritchie Blackmore assaulted my ear drums as "Space Trucking" by Deep Purple launched me on my way. Roger Glover's booming bass and Ian Gillian's wailing vocals prompted my fingers to speed me to the first pick up point.

I arrived at the Rug Merchant on Brass, and after pulling a 180 and speeding onward to my next destination, I reached over and spun the dial, and pressed play. My nimble fingers, selected Steppenwolf's "Magic Carpet Ride. John Kay's raspy vocals and the strong beat pushed me through 5 Ak jobs.

It reached that time of night when the players of America slowly faded into sleep. While I, in that last outpost of democracy, the 50th State, played on, alone. Then the comms heated up. The British Invasion had begun. My fingers quickly dialed up a suitable anthem for this invasion and selected "My Generation by the Who. As I braced myself for John Entwistle's unsurpassed bass solo, I joined my voice with Roger Daltry's in this anthem to youth… I sang, "I hope I die before I get old," and noticed in the reflection of my screen, the now grey hairs of my goatee. I made a note to myself… delete this song from the library.

Enough of this British influence! My index finger swung into action and swirled the dial. Grand Funk Railroad's "We're An American Band" pumped into my ear buds. Mel Schacher's bong thumping bass and Mark Farner's vocals inspired me through another group of jobs as I fantasized about some chiquitas in Omaha.

I kept on working through the night. As fatigue started to overcome me, I dialed up "Evenflow" by Pearl Jam. Then my comm unit noted some discussion of Sarah Palin's qualifications for the Presidency. As if on automatic pilot, my index finger quickly dialed up "American Idiot" by Green Day.

I landed on Pearl, and decided that some chick music was in order. "White Rabbit" by Jefferson Airplane seemed appropriate for the task at hand... Grace Slick's vocals drove me out of orbit. I was in the groove. Only a few more jobs left. I spun the dial at random. Whatever song, it did not matter. I just needed something to carry me to the finish line.

The warning lights on my ship lit up like a Christmas tree. There was a warbling of the solar proximity detection system. My ship careened out of control. Oh My God!!! Somehow, my daughter's Hannah Montana CD leaked into my system. My ship's computer, my ship's drive, and my sanity could not handle the onslaught of this bubble gum pop. As I hit the sun, I closed my eyes and awaited the merciful release that only death could provide.

The screen went black. There was no resurrection in the hospital on Earth. For as any father of a pre-teen daughter will tell you… There is NO insurance that covers Hannah Montana.


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