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====+========================+=====================+=================+========== E | ________________ | ____________ | _________ |I. L | \______ ______\ | / ________ \ | / _____ \ | C. E | | | | | / \_/ | | / \_/ | S. C | | | | | | | | < | T | | | | | | | \ \______ | R | | | | | | | \______ \ | #3 O | | | | | | | \ \ | Z | | | | | | _ | _ > | | I | ______| |______ | | \________/ \ | / \_____/ | | N | \________________\ | \_____________/ | \__________/ | E | Information | Communication | Supply | ====+========================+=====================+=================+========== Information Communication Supply 03/29/93 Vol.1:Issue.3 Email To: ORG_ZINE@WSC.COLORADO.EDU E D I T O R S: Local Alias: Email: ICS Positions: Daniel Frederick -Doppelalias STU445666405 Corrections, Role Playing Russell Hutchison -BurnouT STU524636420 Subscriptions, Editor Benjamin Price -Beelzebub/B'bub STU406889075 Submissions, Final Opinion, Letters Section Luke Miller -Aminohead/DUB STU521532642 Subscriptions, Role Playing Donald Sanders -Zorro ORG_ZINE Critical Editor, Story Section Editor George Sibley -MACFAC FAC_SIBLEY Faculty Supervisor Matthew Thyer -O O T L O STU523086351 Chief Editor Deva Winblood -Metal Master ADP_DEVA Technical Director,WorldNet Tour Guide, Tales of The Unknown _____________________________________________________________________________ / \ | ICS is an Electrozine distributed by students of Western State | | College in Gunnison, Colorado. We are here to gather information about | | topics that are important to us all as human beings. If you would like | | to send in a submission please type it into an ASCII format and mail it | | to us. We operate on the assumption that if you mail us something you | | want it to be published. We will do our best to make sure it is | | distributed and will always inform you when or if it is used. | | See the end of this issue for submission information. | \_____________________________________________________________________________/ REDISTRIBUTION: If any part of this issue is copied or used elsewhere you must give credit to the author and indicate that the information came from ICS Electrozine ORG_ZINE@WSC.COLORADO.EDU. BACK ISSUES: Back issues can be FTPed from UGLYMOUSE.CSS.ITD.UMICH.EDU in the directory /pub/Zines/ICS. (check /pub/Politics/ICS also) DISCLAIMER: The views represented herein do not necessarily represent the views of the editors of ICS. contributors to ICS assume all responsibilities for ensuring that articles/submissions are not violating copyright laws and protections. |\__________________________________________________/| | \ / | | \ T A B L E O F C O N T E N T S / | | / \ | | /________________________________________________\ | |/ \| | Included in the table of contents you will see some| | generic symbols to help you in making your | | decisions on whether an article is something that | | may use ideas, and/or language that could be | | offensive to some. S = Sexual Content | | AL = Adult Language V = Violence O = Opinions | |____________________________________________________| I. FIRST OPINION - By Matthew Thyer. This concerns a look into Bulletin Board Systems and their antagonists. (O) II. A SUBTLE LITTLE WAR: WHO WILL MAKE THE PICTURES - By George Sibley. A look at the mediums used for various publications that shape our viewpoints. III. WORLDNET TOUR GUIDE: Using ARCHIE - By Deva Winblood. Instructions to guide people in using the ARCHIE programs. These programs help one search many sites very rapidly. IV. HOW TO FINGER AND CREATE A PLAN FOR YOUR VAX ACCOUNT - By Daniel Frederick. This article explains how to create a message for people on a VAX/VMS machine. V. SEVERAL POEMS - By Heather Elliott. On request Heather has submitted four more poems for this issue of ICS. VI. TALE OF THE UNKNOWN: SO TALL LADY IN WHITE - By Deva Winblood. Yet another strange tale of the unknown. All based on non-fiction. VII. THE MARTIANS ARE COMING - By Russell Hutchison. This is part one of a fictional story. The second part will appear in ICS issue #4. VIII. BACK THEN - By Fred Skanes. This is a fictional story of nachos and life. IX. STEVE JACKSON GAMES WINS AGAINST SECRET SERVICE - By Daniel Frederick. This article talks about the recent win by SJG against the secret service. X. TWO POEMS - By Gayle L. Allenback ** A N D ** ICS BLURBS! Gayle Allenback has submitted two poems for your reading enjoyment. Also ICS BLURBS #1 which consists of public service announcements and global interest advertisements. XI. LETTERS TO ICS - Edited by Benjamin Price. XII. FINAL OPINION - By Benjamin Price. More inspiring thoughts from B'bub. We'll see just who Matt Thyer's antagonist really is. (O) -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- I ____________________________________________ I \ F I R S T O P I N I O N / I > By Matthew Thyer < I /__________________________________________\ It is amazing how one person can so quickly ruin a piece of quality work. A local BBS that I frequent is intended for constructive discussion of contemporary subject matter; however, one subscriber has taken it upon himself to undermine the purpose of this conference site. The current state of affairs has become reminicent of a crusade where nobody fights. Most of the regular contributors have vanished while only a few of the hardier type have remained to endure the constant tirade of meaningless junk that pours from the keyboard of our nameless molester. The paralyzing blow that this individual has released on those of us who remain turns us into incapable, reactive, cyber-morons. All attempts to remove this person's access to the BBS have failed since he has not really broken any rules. I find myself sliding up to the person sitting at the next work station asking, "Have you read my latest post about Him?" What once was a healthy intellectual past-time has become something of a competitive obsession. I sit in my apartment at night and mull over tactical advances I might issue the next day, but what I as well as my fellow patriots of the Public Forum have accomplished in the end is equal to the sum of our nameless assailant's contributions. We have become essentially as destructive to the ultimate goal of the BBS as our enemy. This phenomenon seems to occur on just about every BBS I can dig up, and I am convinced that some very rude person is following me around changing his address and alias every time someone has something meaningful to relay. My personal experience seems to be becoming a rule rather than a solitary occurrence. "Why?" I ask myself while raising my hands to the cyber-sky in a quasi-sarcastic manner, hoping for god-like intervention. The point of most BBSes and Public-Dial-Up sites, in my humble opinion, is to facilitate constructive and insightful discussion on an infinite variety of subjects -- why does the common "flame" and its brothers even exist? Our subculture seems to be preoccupied with the art of bickering. Stop! Our world, our lives don't need this nonsense. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- II II II ___________________________________________________ II / \ | A SUBTLE LITTLE WAR: WHO WILL MAKE THE PICTURES? | | | | George Sibley, Electrozine Advisor/Cheerleader | \___________________________________________________/ Due to some difficulties experienced in the 'zine's "subscription drive," as well as other questions that have been raised concerning institutional liability, appropriateness of this and that, and other such issues, I have been doing some research into the "law of the cyberland." That I have not found much probably comes as no surprise to many of our readers. The November/December '92 issue of TECHNOLOGY REVIEW had a good essay on the evolution of standards for electronic publishing ("Of Bytes and Rights," by Herb Brody); according to the author, everything from network standards to Constitutional Amendments has been proposed, but nothing has been universally adopted; and the usual continuum of positions ranging from ultimate control to ultimate liberty is taking shape. In this regard, we would appreciate a copy of any network codes of ethics, proposed electronic legislation, or other efforts to push the law into these new realms; and we would also encourage the submission to this 'zine of essays suggesting what kind and degree of legal controls should be overlaid on the medium. This research, however, gave rise to larger thoughts that really need to be addressed before proposing legislation, and these thoughts have to do with what I think of as the "basic analogy" of "paperless publishing" in general and this 'zine in particular. More simply: what are we "like"? Or what are we trying to create? Brody's essay suggests a lot of possibilities. From the "global bulletin board," he moves on to the electronic neighborhood, the electronic village, the "electronic watering hole," the library, the bookstore, as possible metaphors for "what we are like." One of the most interesting observations I've encountered on the "lay of the land" in cyberspace, however, was in the second issue of the Electrozine: Benjamin Price's "Final Opinion." Price says, "A computer screen and a connection to the world become the greatest equalizing force I have ever known. Once you sit down and enter Cyberspace, there are no longer any judgments. There is no race, no creed, no gender. . . . You are defined simply by how much you know and how you choose to use that knowledge." A skeptic might point out that a "literacy requirement" makes "some animals more equal than others" in Cyberspace--but in a way, that is one of the things that I like most about the medium. The need to put everything in text files makes electronic publishing--at this point, at least--the most totally literate medium we have: no pictures, no infographics, not even any italics--none of the things paper publishers have come up with to make the printed word more palatable to a larger (and increasingly less literate) audience. When I asked a class of "Sci/Tech in Culture" students to evaluate the Electrozine concept, most of the students saw this lack of graphics as a major strike against the idea, and stopped there. One student, however, thought that through such media "we might develop our writing to the extent that we return to using our imaginations." While I haven't asked her, I would guess that this student might have had little or no access to television in her young years, because what she said reminded me immediately of something my son had said, years ago at about the age of six, before he was "captured" by the visual culture (which was not present in our home). He had gone to a friend's house to watch a televised version of C.S. Lewis's "The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe"--a book that we had already read aloud. When he got home, and I asked him how he'd liked it, he was quiet for a minute, then said, "It's better when you make your own pictures." In a new book, TECHNOPOLY, educator and cultural critic Neil Postman describes a "war for the future of education" currently in process between a "knowledge monopoly" based on the printed word and the emerging knowledge monopoly based in visual/interactive media. He derides the notion that the print-based knowledge monopoly, still in control of the classroom but on the run everywhere else, can "contain" the visual media by declaring television to be "okay for some things but not for others"; this, says Postman, is like the medieval church or some other institution grounded in the oral tradition telling Gutenberg that books were okay for stories and essays but not for religious and inspirational works. I would be more sanguine about this "war for the future of education," had I not spent most of the past decade in the classroom with students who are, in effect, the first generation of "displaced persons" created by that war: young people primarily educated by the visual media which have been so uncritically embraced by the culture, but still "doing time" in the classrooms which are the last holdout of the old knowledge monopoly. For the most part, these are people without imagination: so overloaded with images created by others (expertly, with virtually unlimited resources) that they have no room for--or respect for--their own incipient halting efforts. The nature and outcome of this war is made even more disturbing when one reads Jerry Mander's new book, IN THE ABSENCE OF THE SACRED, in which he points out that "about 75% of commercial network television time is paid for by the 100 largest corporations in the country," which "leads to certain kinds of information dominating the airwaves." The same figures probably apply to the visually-oriented popular magazines that most of my students love and consider to be a literate medium. All of these advertisers, says Mander, essentially have the same message: "Whether you buy this commodity or that one, satisfaction in life comes from commodities." The spiritual and imaginative writers on the human experience have never managed to come up with such a simple and consensual message/massage. I will close by relating of one of my own skirmishes in this war for the future of education. Here at Western State College, we have been trying hard to develop a set of coordinated "core" courses focusing on the development of both creative and critical thinking skills--in essence, how to effectively ask "why" about what is, and "why not" about what is not. Like everyone else in public education, we are "bootstrapping on a shoestring": broadly defining the investment to encompass the whole reorientation and diversion of resources including faculty, development of the program has probably cost $10 million over the past half decade. Meanwhile, however, Anheuser-Busch has invested $70 million in inundating our students (and everyone else) with its "Why ask why?" campaign--the very antithesis of critical and creative thinking. I've stopped buying Budweiser as a result--that would be like G.I. Joe buying German war bonds in 1943. But given the resources the visual media can muster, compared to what print-based public education can muster--should I be such a fool as to be optimistic about the outcome? Only, I guess, so long there are students with enough of a vestigial imagination to imagine an appropriate environment for its full development, or students like Ben Price and the rest of this 'zine staff looking for themselves in front of a screen that stays blank until they put something of themselves there--in an environment that requires their receivers to flex their own imaginations enough to "make the pictures." No doubt many well meaning technicians are hard at work on making visual information easily accessible in a text-file format; but I won't buy into it, and I would encourage others to "think large" about it. My own emerging "basic analogy" for this medium is more that of "the great unexplored continent," a place in which I keep meeting people I already know who, here, are not quite the same old people. Knowing of course that it probably can't, I nevertheless wish that this abstract unexplored continent would stay this way: a place for the word and its pictures, and those humans willing and able to imagine, to make their own pictures. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- III III _____________________________________ III \ / III \ W o r l d N E T / \ Tour Guide / ____\_____________#2______________/____ \ Using ARCHIE / \ By Deva B. Winblood / /___________________________________\ This issue's WorldNet Tour Guide is on the topic of ARCHIE. ARCHIE is a program that will search many sites very rapidly and return information on the location of files you are seeking. It is an incredible time saver. ARCHIE sites should be connected to using the TELNET command. This command is what we use on our VAX/VMS machine here and is common on most platforms. The command you use may be different; unfortunately it is not available to BITNET users. TELNET EXAMPLE: TELNET

TELNET ARCHIE.ANS.NET Once connected to a computer hosting an ARCHIE program, you will be prompted to login. The LOGIN is usually `archie.' There is no password required. Once connected you can use the ARCHIE program to help you find files. Four commands will be described in this Tour Guide. They are all you need to get started. You the reader should be informed now that the ARCHIE sites request that your site install a CLIENT program that enables you to use ARCHIE without TELNETTING to their site. The information on where to obtain the client software will be displayed on some sites upon connecting. This software can be obtained using FTP(see ICS Volume 1 Issue 2). The four commands that will be discussed here are HELP, SET SEARCH, PROG, and MAIL. These commands should be sufficient to get you started with ARCHIE. HELP The HELP command tells the ARCHIE program to display a list of commands. These are commands that you can use from ARCHIE. Most of these commands you will not need. The commands needed to get started are in this WorldNet Tour Guide article. The HELP command will enable you to request more help by typing HELP . SET SEARCH This allows you to set how detailed a search you wish to use. Some archie sites are set to search mode SUB and occasionally they are set to EXACT. The difference is that SUB takes longer and will return every occurence of the word you are searching for, but EXACT will only return occurences that are exactly what you typed in. It is very fast. These modes and others will be discussed in more detail here. MODE--What it means: ---------------------- SUB This mode sets the ARCHIE program to a case insensitive(does not matter whether caps is on or off) substring search. It will set the mode to search for any occurence of that pattern. SUBCASE This is the same as SUB, however it IS Case sensitive. EXACT This mode means that it should report any EXACT occurence of what you type in and nothing more. This is the fastest search method, but it requires that you know exactly what you are looking for. REGEX This is the DEFAULT setting of most ARCHIE sites(ARCHIE.ANS.NET is defaulted to EXACT mode). This allows searches to be made for regular expressions. There is a lot of information available concerning this search mode. To obtain it, just type HELP SET SEARCH at the ARCHIE prompt. More information can be obtained by typing HELP PROG REGEX at the ARCHIE prompt. PROG This ARCHIE command tells it to go into the database and search for occurences of the expression based on whatever the current search mode is set to. It will keep you informed of progress as it goes. When it is done, it will display the results to the screen. You can have the results mailed to you using the MAIL command that is described next. MAIL This tells the ARCHIE program to send the results of the search to the EMAIL address that you indicate. Large amounts of information will be fragmented into several pieces of mail. ARCHIE SITES: ------------- |SYMBOLIC ADDRESS |NUMERIC ADDRESS | Where | |=============================|=================|===============| |ARCHIE.RUTGERS.EDU | |NewJersey, USA| |ARCHIE.SURA.NET | |Maryland, USA | |ARCHIE.UNL.EDU | |Nebraska,USA | |ARCHIE.MCGILL.CA | |Canada | |ARCHIE.AU | |Australia | |ARCHIE.FUNET.FI | |Finland | |ARCHIE.DOC.IC.AC.UK | |London, UK | |ARCHIE.CS.HUJI.AC.IL | |Israel | |ARCHIE.WIDE.AD.JP | |Japan | |ARCHIE.NCU.EDU.TW | |Taiwan | |ARCHIE.SOGANG.AC.KR | |Seoul, Korea | |ARCHIE.ANS.NET | |New York, USA | |===============================================================| ** End of WorldNet Tour Guide #2 ** IV IV IV IV[][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][[][][][][][][][] [] How to finger and to create a plan for your Vax account. [] [] by Daniel Frederick / Doppelalias [] [] [] [] Have you ever FINGERED an account or site? [] \/ There are two ways to finger an account. \/ Why would one want to? If you ever wondered if a friend was on-line and just wanted to know, without writing a mail message to them, you could finger their account. One way to do so would be to type FINGER @SITEADDRESSHERE, an example on how you would do so to WSC: Finger @WSC.COLORADO.EDU / this would show you everyone who is currently on the WSC system, and ours also shows personal names, system status, et cetera. By scanning this list you would be able to see if that special someone was on-line. One can check to see if selected individuals are on. Say you wanted to know if I was logged-on during a certain part of the day then you would type the following . This would show you if I was currently on the system along with my current system status. You may encounter a person who has created a little addition to their account. When a person fingers this type of account they encounter a PLAN file that the user designs. Try the Electrozine account at . What is going on when you encounter something like: stu445666405 204243405 *DCL* .LT4354SRV13/PORT_2 [No Plan] The stu445666405 is the person or site you fingered. The 204243405 is the process ID. The *DCL* is what that person is currently doing. This may say "not logged on." The ".LT435SRV13/PORT_2" is the present local terminal location. The [No Plan] is stating that this person has no plan. What is a plan? A Plan is an attached graphic or some text that you can add to your account that comes up when fingered. On the VAX/VMS environment you need to do the following to create a plan file. Enter to your DCL prompt and edit in an ASCII format. Type edt plan.txt at this point you should be in a edit buffer. Command files are not necessary -- at this point what ever you type will show up. So type in your name and email, then write I READ ICS, YOU SHOULD TOO! Exit and save it. The protection on your plan.txt should be set so that it is like this: (W:r) plan.txt; the World should be able to read it. Try to finger your own account. Also try to finger your account from a different account (like a friends) to make sure it works. You now have a plan. make it look neat and descriptive. /\ /\ [] [] [] Vax: Set prot=(S:rwe,O:rwed,W:r,G) plan.txt / Unix: .plan (Prot?) [] [][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][[][][][][][][][] [] [] [] by Doppelalias - ICS Tech. Corrections & Role Playing Editor. [] [] E-mail me for more help if needed, or if you know [] [] how to build a plan on the Unix or any other system. [] [] [] [][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][[][][][][][][][] ------------------------------------------------------------------------------- V _____________________________________ V /\ /\ V | \ S e v e r a l / | V | \ P o e m s / | | \_____________________________/ | | B Y | | Heather Elliott | \_____________________________________/ -------------------------------------+------------------------------------------ AURA |RUB * |* i felt the cold breeze |turnout wrap around me |step yet i retained |transfer a shell |transfer of warmth |focus * |HALT i can only feel |* your cool breeze |you were bug-eyed but i know | hands dropped to the side that such warmth |* encases you |saw your cute belly * | became Buddha i want to wrap up |* in the aura |could I feel that warmth of your warmth | again? on a cold clear | night | -------------------------------------+--------+--------------------------------- FreeFall |AN EVENING WITH _ * |* You said you'd catch me |mellow if I fell |comforting but I couldn't let myself fall |relaxing * |soft drums beat in the background Afraid of that sinking feeling |pillows fly so much resembling |smiles sparkle utter disappointment |eyes glitter * |yet, we each have our own drum Filled with worry |stunts became a wallflower |games * |jokes Saw that I could do the steps |and my drum beats out of sync said I'd be fine | if I followed your lead | * | I followed with such grace| I'm falling | catch me | ----------------------------------------------+--------------------------------- -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- VI /\___/\ /\___/\ VI \ *m* /----------------------------\ *m* / VI \v v/ Tales of The Unknown #3 \v v/ VI \_/ By \_/ \ Deva Winblood / \ / \ SO TALL LADY IN WHITE / \__________________________/ ___ (_ _) (_)he sky was dark and a blanket of moisture was all around. The sound of divots in the road were droning background sounds to the intoxicated youths in the back seat of the Pontiac Firebird. The party they had just come from had supplied three passengers with more than ample alcoholic beverages. It was times like this that they were thankful for sober people to drive them home. The snow had all melted and spring had come and brought the green back into the trees on the side of the road. The trees could be seen for a long way on this very straight road. This was not an unfamiliar road to the driver. Actually this was the road the driver had to drive every night to get to his house. The driver turned up the stereo as the quiet music reached a song he particularly enjoyed. The heavy metal and stuporous state did not stop one of the passengers from commenting on the mist that was quickly thickening around the road. Notice they did, and of course some drunken comment was made that the other passengers felt was amusing. There were no visible lights of cars in either direction and as near as the passengers and drivers were could tell it was near midnight. The absence of other car lights and the mist made this a particularly dark stretch of road. Suddenly, not far ahead, the occupants of the car noticed a white figure on the side of the road with an arm extended and thumb pointing upwards. The car was closing the gap to the figure fairly rapidly. The occupants of the car looked on with curiosity which gradually shifted to fear and concern. This was a lady dressed in white and she appeared to be leaning outwards into the road at a near 45 degree angle. The passengers quickly noted that this was not a natural angle for a human to stand at. The driver turned the wheel and entered the other lane of the road. As they past the figure they saw it vanish. The next few years the passengers would relate this tale to anyone interested in this tale. After all, it wasn't the first report of ghostly hitchhikers. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- VII ____________________________ VII / The Martians Are Coming! \ VII | By | VII | Russell Hutchison | \____________________________/ Frank climbed to the top of the ladder and stepped onto one wing of his delta shaped fighter. He began to cross over to the cockpit, the material of his pilot suit making an annoying, abrasive sound as the legs rubbed together. Frank clambered into the war machine and tried to think about anything to keep his mind off the upcoming battle. The canopy began to seal with a hiss that reminded him of the videos of snakes that he had seen when he was a boy. Frank wondered if he would ever see a snake in real life. 'Maybe when this war between Earth and the Mars colonies ends I could go and visit Earth. Of course, since the gravity of Earth is so much stronger than that of Mars, I'll feel like a weak child,' Frank thought. 'And I can't afford it, unless Mars wins this war. It's funny to see how history repeats it's self. America broke away from Britain because of extreme taxation and political manipulation, yet the Earth didn't learn from this example and is mishandling the Mars in the same fashion---' The voice of his flight leader snapped Frank out of his reflective mood. "SMITH! Wake up and sound off if you're there." Frank winced at the flight leaders sarcastic tone. "Sorry, Sir!" "Better. Now listen up boys and girls, the assault force is going to be dropping out of lightspeed in forty seconds. Begin warming up engines, lasers, and particle cannons." Following instructions, Frank activated all systems. The weapons display screen showed that both lasers in each wing were ready, also the particle cannon was charging and the missile pod was loaded with six separate 'flights' of ten missiles per 'flight.' Frank placed his helmet on his head, feeling comforted by the sound of the weapon capacitors charging, but his entire body was coated in sweat that heightened the discomfort of his flight suit. Even in training flights, Frank always broke into a cold sweat and life seemed like an event that was happening to someone else, but that changed when the action started. Frank was the best combat pilot in the Martian fleet, and he tried to use this knowledge to calm his nerves as best as he could. He also reminded himself that surprise had been achieved even though Earth had known, two hours ago, that the attack was on its way. The attack became obvious when the missiles launched from Martian surveilance ships destroyed the defense satellites of Earth and the moon. Frank ANGEL fighter, and those of 17 other pilots, were riding aboard a battlecruiser named the "Vengeance". The thick, titanium-shelled battlecruiser had been mined from the astroid belt, assembled in Earth orbit and given to Mars to protect it from raids by other inhabited solar systems. The Vengeance was a massive hulk measuring about half a mile in length and would weigh over 800,000 tons in atmosphere. Now this goliath of battle, and 21 other ships, were turning their weapons on the planet and factories that had built them. The weapons that would spell Earths defeat had been designed and redesigned over the past 500 years and were the cutting edge of technology, deuterium fluoride chemical lasers which created lethal, 15 megawatt beams of infra-red light, invisible to the human eye. Hyper-velocity missiles that could lock-on to targets 2,000 miles away, reaching them in 30 seconds and causing devastating damage. Coilguns that fired 500 pound to 2 ton explosive shells down launch tubes that reached lengths of up to half-a-mile. And particle cannons that fired 20-45 megawatt streams of neutral particles, destroying the molecular bonds of the target area and causing almost instant vaporization. The voice of the flight leader invaded the cockpit of Franks ANGEL, "O.K., the game plan is to concentrate firepower on the two battlecruisers first, then the destroyers. Light deceleration will commence in 5 seconds." Frank felt a sudden dizzying sensation as the Vengeance dropped into attack speed. Vibrations, from fighters launching on the upper flight decks, lightly shook his ANGEL fighter. Then, with the muffled whirring of gears, the platform elevator that was holding his ANGEL rose upward to the flight deck. Frank closed his eyes and took several deep breaths. When the elevator stopped he opened his eyes and stared calmly at the flight deck doors. Then all sound outside the fighter stopped when the doors snapped open and the surrounding air rushed out into the void of space. The only sounds left were those of Franks breathing and the comlink. With a sudden kick Frank was pushed heavily back into his control seat. The delta-shaped ANGEL fighter leapt from the left side of the Vengeance and followed the bright lights of another ANGEL's drive engines. Frank eased his fighter above the Vengeance accelerating over and past huge spheres of the four launching trooplanders, attached to the Vengeance like massive ticks. Each one of the trooplanders was approximately 200 feet in diameter and carried 400 Martian marines. The laser lights from the Heads Up Display, originating from the top of Franks helmet, quickly highlighted all possible targets, making them stand out against the star filled backdrop of the battlespace. The H.U.D. listed the distance to Earth at around 500 miles and the fleet was closing at almost 200 miles per minute. All of the larger war-ships had the same basic shape, long cylinders with protruding weapon pods, sensor arrays, maneuvering thrusters, and so forth. The only major exceptions being the, 800 foot long 12,000 ton fighter carriers. The back halves of these ships are huge delta-shaped wings that are actually fighter launch tubes. Frank could see many other ANGEL fighters, each easily spotable because of the twin sparks of light coming from the engines of each fighter. The fighters the Earth Defense Fleet used were called BATs and looked like a single straight wing with a reflective plastic composite cockpit in the middle. The BATs had much lighter weaponry, consisting of one particle cannon and two missile racks similar to the ANGELs on either side of it's cockpit. But the BAT fighters have three drive engines each and can out maneuver the ANGEL fighters. As Frank accelerated past the bow of the Vengeance, he gained a complete view of the battlespace. The Martian flag/battleship was turning its massive 4,000 foot, 1,500,000 ton bulk towards the earth-orbit space station. It was followed by two frigates and two heavy cruisers, each massing around 745,000 tons and measuring over 2,300 feet in length, the cruisers being slower but carrying more weapons. Eighty ANGELs sped ahead of the battleship and its escorts to engage the enemy fighters while twenty fighters remained behind for fighter defense. The space station, called "Garden," looked like a titanic mushroom with a two mile long 'stem' and a three mile diameter 'cap.' Garden was also surrounded by two, 3,000 foot, 600,000 ton destroyers, a dozen trooplanders, and almost 50 fighters. Two fighter carriers began to accelerate towards Earth, followed by four corvettes and the longest ship in the Martian fleet, a troopcarrier. The 400,000 ton, 1,300 foot corvettes were straining their engines to try to catch up with the carriers and the 5,000 foot 1,500,000 ton troopcarrier was quickly out-distanced by the other ships. But this goliath made up for its slowness with its ability to carry twenty-five trooplanders alone. Together with the thirty-four other trooplanders from the rest of the fleet and 146 ANGELs this part of the fleet vectored towards the planet, which had three frigates, about eighty BAT fighters and 30 trooplanders guarding it. The rest of the Martian fleet headed for the main Earth Defense Fleet that was halfway between Garden and Earth. The last fighter carrier lead the charge followed closely by two corvettes. These, in turn, were followed by two more frigates and the Vengeance. Lastly were four older-version battlecruisers. Weighing 850,000 tons and measuring nearly 4,700 feet, these ships were slower and carried less armor than the newer battlecruisers like the Vengeance. Together with 106 fighters, one of which was Frank, this group was to seal the fate of the rest of the Earth Defense Fleet. The EDF consisted of four destroyers, three corvettes, nearly seventy fighters, and the primary target for Frank and the Vengeance, two of the newest heavy cruisers. Measuring at around 2,700 feet and weighing 740,000 tons, these heavy cruisers carried nearly twice the weapons and armor of the Martian heavy cruisers. Pushing their fighters to maximum acceleration, the Martian pilots raced ahead of their fleet and began breaking into pairs. One fighter in each pair had a hyper-velocity missile from one of the warships jury-rigged to the bottom of the fighter. A missile as long as the fighter its self. Franks fighter was one of these missile carriers. Franks wingman pulled in above and behind him. "Good mornin' Frank, how's the wife?" the wingman asked. "Rosie is just fine, Rick, how are you?" "Never better...Man, there sure are lots of badguys today. It looks kind-of vicious out there." "Hey, just remember, we're not surrounded, we're in a target rich environment." "Right. Good luck at the office today, Bawanna." "You too." Even as the fighters passed the halfway point to the enemy, brilliant lights began to flash all over the EDF, caused by the invisible lasers and particle beams of the Martian warships. Then the blur of coilgun rounds and the streaks of light from the hyper-velocity missiles rocketed past, erupting into orange-white explosions whenever they hit. Three fourths of the way to the EDF the Martian ANGELs encountered the Earth fighter defense. (TO BE CONTINUED) -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- VIII VIII ________________/\ VIII ______________/\/___BACK THEN______\____________ VIII _______________X____BY FRED SKANES____X_____________ Laying the slice of olive and pimento on the nacho shivered up a memory. These often came when Michael was unprepared, or at least unsuspecting. He would be involved in a simple task, something routine and everyday, when a quick flood of remembrance would bolt him back to another time. Back to himself, back to her. His present thoughts were glazed over. Disoriented, Michael sat down by the stove. The chair wobbled underneath. Michael took a long draw on his smoke. He watched the cool blue smoke wither in the air. His gaze drifted over to the pan of nachos. He noticed that only half of the chips were streaked with the red and yellow pieces of hot banana peppers. She never liked them. Old habits die hard. Michael chuckled silently. The pepperless side was smothered in Cheddar and Jack. That's all she liked. He thought, she isn't here really, but she is. Nearly a year had passed. Michael pushed ahead, trying to start fresh. He would seek comfort from his friends but that was sporadic at best. They had their own lives and now he was the odd man out. They were all `coupled off'. On occasion they would all sit around and relate their stories about the everyday things that made up their lives -- dirty diapers, work, rows and booze. A diverse hodgepodge of matter of fact discussions. One day, tired of Michael's usual referrals, his friends, with exasperated tones, echoed each other. -- Mike it's been a long time -- -- Get on with your life -- -- Mike, for jesus sake, let it go will ya -- Whether they were talking about food, money, sex or the problems of the planet, Michael always pluralized his viewpoint. -- Yeah, _____ and I never liked that much -- -- No, we thought that was unnecessary -- -- The Continental was our favorite -- Often Michael thought that their remarks were selfish and insensitive. He was getting on with his life but in his own way, not theirs. He sprinkled some red pepper on the nachos. _______________________________________________________________________________ In the car his frozen toes made the day constant. It was a cold winter thus far. As they moved along the brackish road, the hardened wheel well slush continuously rubbed the tires. They pulled into a flower shop to collect a friend. Stirring from a daydream, ignoring the frosty chat, Michael begrudgingly squeezed from the back seat. As he entered the earthy warmth of the shop his thoughts quickly moved to memory. The last time in this place was with her. Ferns, that was their goal on a Sunday. Trying to ride the crest of this emotional wave Michael clung to his friends. He followed them around the store. He somehow felt that by keeping close to them he would be secured from his past. Companionable shelter in a tormenting emotional storm? Louisiana Hot Sauce dribbles over the pepper and cheese. _______________________________________________________________________________ Thinking back, a bit brave for the task, Michael often felt that the `break up' period was not really a breaking up of anything. Easily categorized, he thought, to neatly file away the pain and confusion. A quick way out for some. She left, he stayed. Michael lived in the same place. He dealt with sleeping in `their bed', alone. Rolling over, and over to the other edge. He picked up her mail, answered her calls, cleared away her things. He wasn't `breaking up' anything. Yet. His contacts with her were still around him, a part of his daily life. The more someone tried to figure out why someone was leaving them, the more confusing it all seemed. When Michael focused on her departure, the brief note that summarized a relationship, he conjured up a smattering of theories as to why? Michael butted the smoke in the popcan ashtray. He thought of the letters. Jesus, how many did he write? It all happened so fast. He remembered trying to balance the speed of her departure with introspection. He penned body and soul in at least fifteen letters in the first three weeks! Each letter attempting to explain in some way the chaos of thought and emotion. Each one a new stab at trying to let her know how he felt. Each time, Michael was never sure of the end result but they went in the post just the same. Michael thought that somehow through all the fragments she could see how strong his love was for her. No matter what flowed into each letter Michael never crumpled one for the trash can. He mailed them all thinking that this diligence and honesty would strengthen his position. He sent her all of his feelings whatever they were at the time of writing. These letters became hurried glimpses of truth. The pre-heating light went out. Michael slid the Nachos into the hot oven. _____________________________________________________________________________ His beard is full now except for two vee shaped spots hanging off his lower lip. All in all a shaggy reminder of her. She hated the coarse rub of his face. Growing the beard somehow signalled a change. He checked to make sure the nachos were not burning. ______________________________________________________________________________ They both lived in the same neighbourhood now. Their paths never crossed. A chance encounter seemed likely but never materialized. Michael could somehow relate this to their separate lives but he still found it funny that in such a small community there never was a run in of any sort. Their crowd watered at the same hole and yet on many anxious occasions as he pulled open the local bar door, she was never there. It was as if she somehow knew the nights that Michael would decide to spend those last few UI dollars out and about. Her friends would be there many nights. They were `her' friends now; before they had been mutual friends, but owing up to past alliances from before they became a `couple', friends now camped with old allegiance. One day while clearing the cobwebs with coffee at a new cafe, Michael sighted her across the street. She was attending a community college nearby. An anxious moment nearly knocked the coffee and cream mugs off of the uneven table as Michael crazily thought of scrambling to the door and shouting out her name. Gathering himself he sat back down to agonize once more. From that day on, the cafe at the top of the hill became a symbol of Michael's torturous days. In the days of unemployment, time leads to many thoughts. On many occasions, even though the relationship had been long snuffed, Michael would daydream himself to the door of the cafe. It became a focal point, almost a refuge of sorts. Confused, he often left without even looking in through the window. Love and anger mixed together, fueling moments of panic and indecision. The next hour or so left him emotionally paralyzed. His concentration became a struggle. Any conversation with friends that he would bump into would wane; Michael would curtly drift away. Finally, one day, Michael and a friend, Jamie, decided to go for coffee. It was no surprise to Michael when he suggested the cafe at the top of the hill. As they entered the smokey lunch time crowd and situated a table, Michael's stomach tied itself tightly. There she sat. With Jamie in the lead, feeling blind and crippled, Michael grappled to a corner table. MIchael felt that he could touch her by simply thinking about it. Jamie continued the conversation from the car. Michael faintly nodded concern; income tax and the cost of living could take a back seat for the moment. The reach of his hearing centred on her table. Michael picked up his coffee and for a moment the movement disentangled him from Jamie's words. He tried to quickly snatch her voice, wanting to know what she has been up to. A moment summarizes months of living, Michael thought. There would be no acknowledgment that day. They would both have lunch, talk to friends, and go on to the afternoon. Such days were random. Michael went to the cafe sporadically after that first encounter. He thought that maybe this was a sign of something. A change occurring in his outlook on the past. Getting up from the chair, he shrugged off the daydream. The oven had filled the kitchen with sleepy heat. Michael opened the oven door to check on the nachos. They were almost ready, the cheese beginning to bubble. _____________________________________________________________________________ It gave way one day. That day. Funny thing was, Michael had thought of this exact moment. He conjured up daydreams while on the bus of such symbolic events. He took it as a sign to let go. Finally. Michael so often imagined this day. He felt glad that the earthy colored `weavy', as she called it, had fallen off unnoticed. It had dangled on his wrist for a year or thereabout. A constant reminder. Michael knew that to prepare for this moment would have been a troublesome gesture. A parting glance back, somehow ceremonialized, would have undoubtedly yielded substantial flashbacks. A jaunt to the liquor store for two litres of Bull's Blood would have been in order. He was glad that it remained. Like the two he angrily cut from his wrist when she first left, this one would hang around as well. He stuck it in the fold of the cookbook that lay open on the table. Holding a place of reference, keeping a memory. Michael pulled the finished nachos from the oven. ___________________________________________________________________________ IX IX ___________________________________________________ IX / \ IX / Steve Jackson Games Wins Against Secret Service \ \ Daniel Frederick / Alias: Doppelalias / \___________________________________________________/ On March 1, 1990 Steve Jackson found out his company was on the list of places to raid during Operation Sun Devil. The secret service paid SJ Games a visit. The SS broke into locked file cabinets, ransacked the place, and left carrying 3 computers, 2 laser printers, and a lot of hard disks and papers. Later, a posting on the BBS run by SJ Games, used to keep up communications with role players, related the following: "So far we have not received a clear explanation of what the secret service was looking for, what they expected to find, or much of anything else. We are fairly certain that Steve Jackson Games is not the target of whatever investigation is being conducted; in any case, we have done nothing illegal and have nothing whatsoever to hide. However, the equipment that was seized is apparently considered to be evidence in whatever they're investigating, so we aren't likely to get it back any time soon. It could be a month, it could be never." Later in another game, Steve Jackson said: "In 1990, Steve Jackson Games was raided by the U.S. Secret Service during a 'hacker hunt' that went disastrously out of control. We lost several computers, modems, and other equipment. Worse, we lost the manuscripts to several uncompleted games, most notably _GURPS Cyberpunk_, which a Secret Service agent the next day called `a handbook for computer crime.' The company had to lay off half its staff, and narrowly avoided bankruptcy. "Eventually we got most of our property back (though some of it was damaged or destroyed). The Secret Service admitted that we'd never been a target of their investigation. We have a lawsuit pending against the officials and agencies responsible." One reason the secret service raided SJ Games is because of one of the staff writers, known as The Mentor of the LoD (Legion of Doom). The LoD is a band of hackers, and all hackers are evil in the eye of the law. The book, `GURPS-Cyberpunk, High-Tech Low-Life Role-Playing,' is now advertised as "The book that was seized by the secret service". If you are interested, SJ Games operates a BBS with discussion areas for several games, including GURPS. Its up 24 hours a day at 521-447-4449, at 300, 1200, or 2400 baud. Now with the help of the EFFector 'zine, SJ Games has won its law suit. Date: Wed, 17 Mar 93 00:33:21 -0600 From: (Steve Jackson) To: ORG_ZINE@WSC.COLORADO.EDU Subject: Re: Question. Yep, we won. By all means, print info - that's why we sent out the press release! Thanks for the interest. Best of luck to you; electrozines are a wave of the future. -------------Start of Message------------ From: Steve Jackson Date: Sun, 14 Mar 1993 21:24:46 GMT We won. Pete Kennedy, our attorney at George, Donaldson & Ford, called me with the news about 3:30 today. Apparently the decision came in late Friday while Pete was at the CFP. The judge ruled for us on both the PPA and ECPA, though he says that taking the computer out the door was not an "interception." (I have not read the decision yet, so no quotes here.) He awarded damages of $1,000 per plaintiff under the ECPA. Under the PPA, he awarded SJ Games $42,259 for lost profits in 1990, and out of pocket costs of $8,781. Our attorneys are also entitled to submit a request for their costs. No word on appeal yet. Look for a more complete and coherent account after we all read the decision. Please copy this announcement to all electronic and other media. Thanks for your support through all this! ------- End of forwarded message --------- End/Daniel Frederick/Alias: Doppelalias ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ X ___________________________ X | | ++ I. X / T W O P O E M S \ ++ C. X \ By Gayle L. Allenback / ++++++++ S. \_________________________/ ++ BLURBS ++ =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=+----------+---------+--------- The Map | |ICS BLURB| . | +---------+ Planning my route to paradise, |If your interested in a Zine I'm aware of the stack of books on the table.|that describes itself as Reading them would make me blind, |"Being the excremeditation of So I travel on with my sight, |a hyperactive armadillo's Getting worn down by gravel roads. |activities, and other stuff.." . | by Gayle L. Allenback |Send to: |USnail: =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=+Armadillo Culture Sitting Alone on a Moonlit Night |2857 Foxmill Rd. . |Herndon, VA. 22071 The moonglow silvers a snake in the water, |or EMAIL: >C8o{. a mesmerizing fortune uponH7 | =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=+------------------------------ [[[[[[ I C S B L U R B ]]]]]] | RPG CONVENTION ANNOUNCEMENT "Simulation & Gaming" Zine has issued a call for | -^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^-^- papers. "Simulation & Gaming: An International | Allied Gaming Interests, Inc. Journal of Theory, Design, and Research" (Sage | presents Publications) is the world's foremost journal | D - C U B E D 1993 devoted to academic and applied issues in the | fast expanding fields of simulation, computerized| The Southeast's largest simulation, gaming, modeling, play, role-play and| "Gamer's Only" convention active, experiential learning and related | methodologies in education, training and |WHEN: June 5-6, 1993 research. The broad scope of interdisciplinary |WHERE: Pensacola Civic Center nature of "Simulation & Gaming" is demonstrated | Pensacola, Florida by the variety of its readers and contributors, |HOW MUCH: $10 per day as well as its Editorial Board members, such as | $15 for both days sociologists, political scientists, economists, |HOTELS: Seville Inn psychologists and educators, as well as experts | (1-800-277-7375) Ask for in environmental issues, international studies, | group rate #2910. management and business, policy and planning, | Days Inn decision making and conflict resolution, | (1-800-325-2525, ask for cognition, learning theory, communication, | D-CUBED special) language, learning, media, educational | technologies and computing. Manuscripts are | Both only $39 per night welcome at any time. Before submitting a | manuscript, potential authors should write for a |FOR MORE INFORMATION: copy of the Guide for Authors, enclosing a self- |Send email to addressed, sticky label and $2 in stamps(in the |UWFGAMER@UWF.CC.UWF.EDU USA only). Write to David Crookall, Editor S&G |TVERITY@CONCH.SENOD.UWF.EDU Morgan Hall. BOX 870244, U of AL, Tuscaloosa, |UWFGAMER@UWF.BITNET AL 35487, USA. TO SUBSCRIBE, write to Sage |----------------------------- Publications, 2455 Teller Road, Newbury Park, CA | Well that is the end of 91320,USA; 6 Bonhill Street, London EC2A 4PU, UK.| ICS Issue #3 Blurbs. =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=+=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- XI ___/\____/\_/\____/\___ XI / L E T T E R S T O \ XI \ I. C. S. / XI \_____/\_______/\_____/ Secrest Elementary School 6875 W. 64th Avenue Arvada, CO 80003 USA Mar.12, 1993 Dear Ladies and Gentlemen: For those who have missed previous notices about "Project: Indiana Jones and the Power of the Internet" I would like to take a minute or two to update you. My name is Sam F. Radovich, 6th grade teacher here at Secrest. I've been teaching 19 years in Jefferson County, the largest school district in the State of Colorado. I've been at Secrest for 5 years. I'm not a computer scientist or programmer, just a creative, innovative classroom educator who is trying to implement the use of technology to enhance and enrich basic education. This all started several years ago when I wrote a "Long Distance Learning Proposal" that was rejected. A second one that was networking two of our sister elementary schools, which was also rejected so the local high school could pay for a cd-rom program instead of the "Power of the Net." Thanks to Mr. Ken Harmon, Executive Director of Colorado SuperNet, this dream is becoming a reality on a daily basis. He adopted us and has provided us with the access to the Net. This "Educational Partnership" has provided unlimited learning opportunities. I'm trying to educate and convince the public of the importance of technology for accessing the world classroom that we all know exits via the Net. Many feel this is not important in elementary school. We just had a super demonstration with "Educating a Superintendent." We had responses from around Colorado and the Nation, also from Australia, New Zealand, and yes even from South Africa. Sincerely Sam F. Radovich (aka Dr. Jones or Indy and Associates) P.S. We've just made it into the South Pole and Iceland, too. {That's great to hear. Schools should definitely be using the incredible resources out there as much as they can; it is good to know that there are teachers out there making an effort to make it happen. -BP} -=-=-=-=-=-=- Hello all, I have to make a confession. I did something appalling and I can't keep it bottled up anymore. It really is terrible, but here goes. When I received the first edition of your electrozine, I was very busy and didn't really have time to read it, so I ... PRINTED IT! Can you believe I would do such a thing to an electronic magazine. Whew, I feel so much better now that I got that off my chest. Congratulations, it was an excellent edition and I wish you all the best of luck. <<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> Keith D. Baker "An honest politician is one who, Department of Chemistry when bought, stays bought." University of New Orleans <<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> {I hope you realize, Keith, that there is no hope for you. What you did was utterly unforgivable, and it breaks my heart to hear about a true net citizen reduced to... dare I say it... hard copies. But seriously, thanks. -BP} -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- XII _______________________________________________ XII / F I N A L O P I N I O N \ XII | B Y | XII | Benjamin Price | \_______________________________________________/ Hmmm. The lab is fairly quiet at last. Most of the research paper strugglers have given up and decided that scholarship isn't worth it. Or who knows? Maybe they even finished the things. There are still a few dedicated souls at work, though, and occasionally a staccato keyboard run announces a DikuMUD in progress. The wall clock tells me there are forty-five minutes left before I get kicked out. It is time to get to work. For the past couple years, I had a project: to make Matthew Thyer's Internet life a hell. With one last look around, I call up the local BBS, and begin to post horrible, senseless gibberish. First, I make fun of Mr. Thyer's grammar; next, his spelling; and lastly and most enjoyably, I attack him personally. I use great imagination, making sure I have completely addressed his every shortcoming. Gosh, what fun. No, that is not a true story. But is it accurate? Considerable debate often arises over public access bulletin boards. It is unfortunate that so often they become war grounds instead of whatever the programmer originally intended. There are a great number of very intelligent people using the boards who tend to see posting as a competition; for them it is a great source of pride to be the one who has the most skill in programming, language, articulation, or whatever is on the table for discussion. The ones who get hurt by this are those who are unable or unwilling to play aggressively. Bulletin boards become unusable by less willful information or socialization seekers because of the antagonistic nature of the board. I realize this is not a universal problem, but it is certainly a common one. And an aggressive personality and/or intellect can also be a great asset to a BBS, guiding and providing. Our minds are everything in this environment. We have a responsibility to be aware of the power that gives us. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- ICS would like to hear from you. We accept flames, comments, submissions, editorials, corrections, and just about anything else you wish to send us. For your safety use these guidelines when sending us anything. We will use things sent to us when we think the would be appropriate for the goal of the issue coming out. So, if you send us something that you DO NOT want us to use in the electrozine, then put the words NOT FOR PUBLICATION in the subject of the mail you send us. You can protect your material by sending a copy to yourself through the mail and leaving the envelope unopened. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- ADVERTISEMENTS & ANNOUNCEMENTS: We will accept either of these as long as they are of global interest and good quality. This is a non-profit public service of the ICS Electrozine. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- BACK ISSUES: Back Issues of ICS can be FTPed from UGLYMOUSE.CSS.ITD.UMICH.EDU They are in the directory /pub/Zines/ICS. (NOTE: the administrator may have them in /pub/Politics/ICS still.) -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- ICSICSICSICSICSICSICS/\ICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICS CSICSICSICSICSICSICS/ \CSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICS ICSICSICSICSICSICSI/ \ICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSI CSICSICSICSICSICSI/ \CSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSI ICSICSICSICSICSIC/ I C S \ICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSIC CSICSICSICSICSIC/ \CSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSIC ICSICSICSICSICS/ Electro- \ICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICS CSICSICSICSICS/ Zine \CSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICS \ / \ #3 / \ / \ / An Electronic Magazine from \ / Western State College \ / Gunnison, Colorado. \ / ORG_ZINE@WSC.COLORADO.EDU \/ '*' -------------------------------------------------------------------------------


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