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-------------------------------------------------------------------------------- ################ ################### ######### ### ## ## ## ## ### ## ## ### ## ## ### ## #### ### ## #### ### ## ## ### ## ## ### ## ## ## ## ################ ################## ######### I n f o r m a t i o n, C o m m u n i c a t i o n, S u p p l y E L E C T R O Z I N E Information Communication Supply 10/5/93 Vol.1:Issue.6 Part:1 Email To: ORG_ZINE@WSC.COLORADO.EDU E D I T O R S: Local Alias: Email: ICS Positions: ============== ============ ====== ============== Deva Winblood MeTaL MaSTeR, ADP_DEVA Technical Director, Ephemeral Ask Deva, Tales of the Presence Unknown, Editing Ted Sanders Zorro STU520256399 Writer, Final Editor, Subscriptions, Fragment Design, Final Opinion Jeremy Bek rApIeR STU521279258 Layout, Writer, Editing, Subscriptions, Letters, Role Playing Games, Fragment Design Jeremy Greene Diabolus STU521139287 Technical Editor, Subscriptions Clint Thompson None ADP_CLINT Editing, Writer Steven Peterson Rufus T. Firefly STU388801940 Editing, Writer Russel Hutchinson Burnout Writer, Subscriptions, Editing George Sibley MAC_FAC FAC_SIBLEY Editing, Supervisor _____________________________________________________________________________ / \ | 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. 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 Deva Winblood | | | | II. New Prejudices by Steven Peterson (O) | | | | III. Everyone Needs a Little Magic (O) | | by Russ Hutchison | | | | IV. i wish i could write by Clint Thompson | | | | V. An Eagle Speaks on Evolution | | by George Sibley | | | | VI. Eye Opener by Russ Hutchinson (V,S,Al) | | | | VII. Almost Middle Opinion by Jeremy Bek | | | | 1) Right After the Middle Word By Jeremy Bek | | | | 2) Thaumaturgy(Part 1) By Jason Manzcur (O) | | | | 3) Women By JamiJo Tobey | | | | 4) The Ones We Love By Russ Hutchison (V,AL) | | | | 5) Networking School Day(Part 1) By | | Ted Sanders (O) | | 6) ListServes By Jeremy Bek (O) | | | | 7) The Final Word By Ted Sanders (O) | \____________________________________________________/ [][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][] /\___________________________________/\ | \ / | | \ F I R S T O P I N I O N / | |/\ \ / /\| |\/ / By \ \/| | / \ | | / Deva Bryson Winblood \ | |/___________________________________\| Greetings, We finally managed to send you issue number five, and just to prove we are back and producing zines on an ALMOST regular basis, here begins ICS Electrozine issue number six. The staff is changing as regularly as we produce new issues. *snicker* This is the first ICS issue to be sent out in fragment form. The survey that was sent out during the spring indicated that a large percentage of our subscribers wanted ICS to be sent to them in smaller and more frequent issues. Thus, we are switching to the fragment system. We will be sending each issue out in the form of two or three fragments. These fragments will then be compiled into one large issue to be stored on anonymous FTP archive sites. The new staff and the old are gradually going their own ways, as not all people can continue to put as much time into the zine as is neccessary. This is my way of saying that my presence in the ICS Electrozine will be much less than it has been in the past. I still plan to write for ICS, but I am also giving the new regime their chance to do the zine better and take it to new heights. After this issue, Jeremy Bek will be the ICS Technical Director and I will be on call if something arises that the regular ICS staff cannot handle. Anyone that would like to learn of my other internet projects feel free to write me at through EMAIL and I will let you know what things new are being contemplated. You can mail me at ADP_DEVA@WSC.COLORADO.EDU. This issue features a review of a unique card game. The review is written by Russell Hutchison. This issue is also being put together by Jeremy Bek as his first attempt. So, contact him at ORG_ZINE@WSC.COLORADO.EDU if you have any comments, criticisms, or just want to congratulate him on his meteoric promotion. Let this issue represent the dawning of a new era. Let the staff know if you like what you see. Deva Winblood - ICS Technical Director 10/26/1993 [][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][] {******************} / \ *( New Prejudices )* \ / {******************} By Steven Peterson In this, my maiden voyage into the brave new world of electronic communication, I would like to explore my reactions to the impending changes facing the television industry in America. As I sit here, large multi-national corporations are battling for control of the next stage of cable television expansion. This expansion involves bringing hundreds of channels to the average citizen of our country, allowing individuals to specifically program entertainment in a pseudo-interactive way. In using the term "pseudo-interactive", I am attempting to describe the limitations of programming choices offered by our entertainment industry and the implied boundaries this will place on true intellectual engagement. American television has evolved to a point where it effectively defines reality for a growing segment of our population. Realizing this fact, various corporate and political entities have fused psychology, marketing, and video technology to create a new science of indoctrination. The intellectually passive nature of television provides a perfect forum for the dissemination of these new, subtle forms of propagandistic persuasion. Currently, free-market demands are the only limiting force (aside from our Federal Communications Commission) controlling manipulative programming. In many ways, the American theatre of television has compromised our democratic form of self-government. Our entire electoral process is already conducted as a sort of "ratings battle". We elect our leaders pretty much on the basis of appearance. All of our major (and many minor) political decisions are now resolved according to criteria imposed by broadcast methods. Our elected leaders are more or less forced to reduce any statements of policy to "sound-bites", six to eight second fragments of discourse designed to appeal to television news editors. These fragmented statements effectively alienate viewers from adopting a well-informed position on any of the major issues facing our nation. Cut off from any valid forms of political revelation, the average citizen in America has grown to view the entire republican approach to government as divorced from the effects of individual involvement and perhaps beyond comprehension. Personally, I feel it is this "distancing" that is responsible for the lack of civic identification I have felt over the course of my life. I simply cannot develop any measure of respect for community leaders who seem to be "playing for the camera". And play for the camera they do ... from minor press conferences to national elections, image has replaced substance as the common coin of political success. All too often, political indiscretions are obscured and hidden by finely crafted efforts to manipulate public reaction to imagery. The media's portrayal of Oliver North springs to mind as a perfect example of this use of imagery. I believe most Americans wanted to believe the defense this "all-american" looking patriot offered during the potentially devastating Iran-Contra trial. When faced with allegations of massive improprieties condoned by our President (an inference on my part), our citizenry generally chose to accept any explanations this seemingly upstanding individual offered. It is this willingness to accept the world as it is portrayed on television as reality that concerns me. This modern "blind-faith" compromises any attempts to challenge (and improve) the course of our development as a nation and as individuals. Ironically, Americans depend on this same media to expose and protect ourselves against these types of abuse. When technology gains the capacity to control and influence our standards for expression, public and private, it also gains the potential to control the minds and hearts of every individual in our society. Socially, the spectre of five hundred channels of programmable entertainment will most likely contribute to the increasing fragmentation of our society. Allowed to descend into the depths of factional interests, most individuals will see little reason to "decentrate", or attempt to understand other's perspectives. At this point, I run into one of the central conflicts inherent in the "information age" - how to balance highly specialized information against a bewildering array of valid viewpoints without becoming bogged down in a morass of confusion. This lack of a viable common context in which to place our individual impressions and beliefs effectively prohibits the use of technology as a focal point for unifying the people of a nation. On the bright side, technology does offer the people of our world the chance to dissolve the barriers which separate us physically and intellectually. The most troubling aspect of this cable revolution is the overwhelming amount of control large corporate entities are battling over. These corporations are seeking to control the sources of programming material as well as the mechanical means of delivery. They seem to be willing to offer hundreds of choices, but they will still retain control over which choices you are allowed to make. I find this system somewhat reminiscent of the former Soviet Communist Party's methods of maintaining and controlling power. Ultimately, our most fundamental right to simply turn the damned thing off may be compromised by strong social pressure to "participate" in this new culture. Given the choice between a propoganda-free mind and social isolation, most Americans will choose "interpersonal" indoctrination every time. This new multi- billion dollar industry will create an opportunity to amass the necessary capital for monopolistic control over the production facilities required to produce programs. I can easily forsee the anti-trust suits that should accompany the resolution of the corporate take-over battles, and I truly hope that there is an organization out there with the courage to file a true "class-action" suit. Perhaps I have just grown cynical about the average level of independent thinking American citizens are capable of. Then again, I walk into my college classrooms and see my peers (?) approaching education itself as a passive activity. Bean counters, I call 'em, people who are attempting to collect their daily doses of knowledge with this unstated expectation that wisdom will magically spring forth with no effort on their part. This attitude, a product of television viewing habits, insidiously taints my education by forcing the faculty of my college to "play" to this type of student audience. Simply increasing the scope of material available doesn't promise to alter this fundamentally passive habit of blindly accepting statements made from a position of relative authority. So, is there a solution to this dilemma? Probably not. Television has gained such a powerful hold over our society that any attempts to regulate it will be resisted by entities with the money and clout required to block any such attempts. The real battle will be fought at the individual level by people committed to maintaining the intellectual integrity of our nation. Personally, I am currently preparing to embark on a career of secondary teaching, so this issue is of more than passing concern to me. The spectre of a sub-literate nation controlling vast nuclear and other weapons technology doesn't exactly fill me with confidence, or hope. The final irony may be that the technological revolution responsible for these weapons may also rob us of the judgement required to maintain control over it. "The life of every man who dissents from prevailing ideas is bound to be more or less lonely". - H.L. Mencken [][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][] _______ / /-\ \ /\ /\ /\ | \_/ | /\ /\ /\ / \/ \/ \|_______|/ \/ \/ \ / Everyone Needs a Little Magic \ __/___________________________________\__ ( ) \ By Russell Hutchison / / ----------------------------------------\ Recently I was in a game store in Colorado Springs when a friend of mine noticed four decks of cards of the game Magic, The Gathering, on display. He pointed them out to me and informed me that the game was sweeping the nation. In fact, he had called around to multiple game distributers all over the mid-west and said he wanted some Magic. "Doesn't everybody", was the common response. After hearing several stories from the shop owner about how fast the game was selling (Up to 40 decks of cards after one demonstration!) I decided to get a deck and try it out. My friend whipped out his VISA and bought the other three. I felt that he was going over board with the game, until I played it for the first time. Now I wish I had bought at least another deck. The game was designed by Richard Garfield Ph.D., and is published by Wizards of the Coast, Inc. It is a combination of trading cards with art from over 20 artists and a card game that is more or less like the card game called War, except infinitely more interesting and fun. Within each deck of cards are cards which represent various types of Land, Creatures, Artifacts, and Spells. Land cards represent the the magic power that is accessable to each player. Certain types of land are necessary to put different cards in play. Creatures are used to cause "damage" to your opponent and to defend you from your opponents' creatures. Artifacts are cards that are used to strengthen your power and weaken your enemy. Spell cards are used to damage your opponent, his/her creatures, or artifacts and strengthen your creatures. The most common game played is a two player version, called a Duel, but multi-player games are possible. Games are usually played to win an ante of one random card. By winning certain games the strength of your deck will increase (or decrease) and there will be weaknesses that you will need to repair through trading or Duels. One aspect of the game that makes it much more interesting is that there are 300 cards in the series (so far) and each deck holds only 60 randomly selected cards. Thus, the contents of any one deck is never known when opponents first meet. More types of cards are in the works and so are booster packs for those who just want to add a little spice to their decks. All in all this game is one of the most fun games to hit the scene in quite some time. The play testers of the game have been playing for more than two years and are still going strong. So, I have high hopes that this game will provide entertainment for many years to come. For more information there is a listserv that is accessable by sending the message "subscribe gg-1 YourRealName" to [][][][][][][][][][][][]][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][[][][][][][][][][][][][][] /-------------------------------------------------\ )============== i wish i could write =============( \_________________________________________________/ i wish i could write. i wish i could reach the deepest deep of my soul with a pen, and wrench it free. i wish i could write the wings of a bird, or explain the sound of love in spring. i wish i could capture the taste, in a word, of a breath of mountain air at twilight. the sun in twisting robes of red and orange descends into her bed. no, i must watch the moment then watch the moment leave... unable to hold it here with paper and ink. the greatest moments of my life are volumes only read by me. unable to live by paper and pen for all the world to see. Clint Thompson [][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][] ________________________________________________ AN EAGLE SPEAKS ON EVOLUTION ) ___________________________________________)---- _____________________________________) _____________________________) ______________________) It's a story eagles have always told, But humans are just again learning to hear it. It's a story from back when the dragons ruled And bigger was known to be better: Bigger and tougher and more armored against all Even life, those were the standards: Might made right; the strong got stronger And the big just got bigger and bigger. That's like the story the humans tell; But as humans tell it, it goes nowhere: Things changed, and the dragons simply perished. But the story the eagles tell is different, The story humans are just learning to hear. The way the eagles tell it, some of the little dragons, Little in some ways, but strong in their own way, Began to change too. They gave up on the claws and armor; And their claws grew long and delicate and fragile, And their scales became long, soft and fluffy. How the big dragons laughed! Har! Har! thundered the thunder-dragons, As the soft little lizards hopped and flapped along Little soaring leaps to avoid being clawed and bashed Trampled and smashed by the heavy armored feet. But the webbing claws and the feathering scales Continued to lengthen even as the thunder-dragons Continued to laugh their thunderous laugh, repeating the wisdom: Bigger is better; might makes right; nothing succeeds Like success: bigger claws and thicker scales-- Think of that now, says the eagle, As you watch me ride the shatter of light Up the face of the mountain. Think of that as you strain to see the cranes A mile up with their great transcontinental wingbeat, Or follow the dart and swoop of the swallow. Think of that as you look for your way In a world going mad with bigness, toughness, armor. --George Sibley [][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][] _ _ _ |_____| / ____ \ Eye Opener / / \ \ | | 1:11| | | | am| |: By Russell Hutchison \ \___/ / \_____/ |_ _ _| | _ _ | The dark cloak of sleep was pulled slowly away from Eric's eyes and mind. He knew something was happening, something important, but he felt as if he was trying to think through a black gauze bandage. The young boy opened one of his eyes, his half-gaze fell upon a small, dark, hunched shape, with multiple, blazing red eyes, squatting well within his arms reach. Panic started to build in Eric's chest with a warm pressure and a heady, almost fuzzy feeling gripped his still groggy mind as adrenaline kick started his thoughts. At the same time the creature's unseen jaws snapped shut. Eric hardly noticed that he screamed as he slammed his back into the wall behind his bed, trying, by force of will, to merge with the wall or grind a path to safety through it with his shoulder blades. The creature, which seemed to be smaller than a toaster, didn't even flinch. Eric's vision finally cleared and in the weak moonlight he found himself staring at the glowing face of his new digital clock. He stared at it a while longer while his breathing returned to normal and his hands began to shake slightly. The sound of foot steps approaching his closed door and his mother's voice calling his name helped to calm him down. The door was pushed open and the vague shape of his mother's head poked through the dark rupture. "Eric, honey, are you alright?" Eric could hear the worry in his mother's voice and the sound of her hand sliding across the wall, vainly searching for the light switch. He closed his eyes, waiting for his vision to become red. "I'm fine, mom." Eric heard the heavy, ponderous footsteps of his barrel-chested father coming closer. "I had a bad dream, and the clock scared me." "We heard you scream," his mom said. There was a sharp click and the insides of Eric's eyes glowed red. "Yeah, I thought the clock was a monster, it scared me." "Awful short monster," said his father from the hall. His balding head visible in the light spilling over the mother's shoulder into the hall. "I don't think you have anything to worry about, son." A yawn contorted his face into the visage of a man in pain. "Good night, pup." The father disappeared from view. "Good night, dad." "Good night, Eric. Get some sleep, you have school tomorrow." "Yes, mom. I love you." Eric looked back at the clock, making sure that it was really a clock. A small tag was taped to the clock. It read: "Happy eleventh birthday! Love ya bro', Mike." There was a click and the room was draped in darkness again. Only the glowing numbers on the clock were visible as his eyes adjusted back to the moonlight. Eric watched the time change from 1:10 A.M. to 1:11, and his night vision had almost completely returned. But the horror, when, in the crystalline silence left in the wake of his parent's departure, the sound of the monster's jaws snapping shut sounded from the far side of the room. Eric tore his gaze from the glowing machine and tried, fruitlessly, to spot the creature. But the moonlight pooling on the floor made the section of the room between the window and the light as black as pitch. Young Eric was about to call to his parents again when the sound happened again. But this time he knew the source. Someone was bouncing pebbles off his window. Eric hopped out of bed and walked quietly to the window. Pressing his face against the cool, clear glass he saw his best friend, Paul, waving to him from the ground, one floor down. Wasting no time, Eric put on warm clothes that were warm and dark in color. He then slipped out his bedroom door and took his usual path, the one where he knew all the squeaky floor-boards to the front door. He checked to make sure he had the key in his pocket before he closed the door. While he did this Paul had come around the corner of the house, moving in the shadows around the base of the house. The two boys held their greetings until after the door was closed and they had safely crossed the street into a greenbelt between the neighbors yards. Eric slapped Paul on his shoulder, "You dork, you scared the hell out of me! I thought Mike's clock was a monster...for a second." "It's good to see you, too. I sneak out of my house, risk getting grounded for life by seeing you, all just to say happy birthday, and you slap me because your rapist brother's clock scares you. " Gawd, what a jerk!" Paul, with arms akimbo, fixes Eric with a gaze of mock hurt. "I'm sorry about hitting you, but I was scared...and don't talk like my brother is bad. He's my family...even if he was guilty. And how can you say bad stuff about him when he used to play with us both all the time?" "I guess my mom is rubbing off on me. She still forbids me to see you. I guess she thinks that you'll turn out bad too, and you'll pull me down with you. She says that you only care about him because you've never known a female who was raped." "Bull, I know what I feel! Your mom is full of it!" "Who cares anyway? I just want to go stealthin'. We haven't done that since Mike's trial." "Yeah, lets go. I...I need to be moving or something." The two boys started to play their game of stealthin', and within twenty minutes of dodging and hiding from cars and people Eric's humor returned. But then, while they were hiding in a bush, the faint sound of Paul's mom calling his name drifted to their silent hiding place. "Oh no! I gotta go! I'll see you later, Eric," Paul jumped up from behind the bush, startling a group of college kids who were heading home from last call. "Take care!" whispered Eric, but Paul was long gone. When the students had passed he stood up and decided that it would be best to go home. He began to sneak his way from bush to bush, and car to car. He only had a few blocks to go and was cutting through a greenbelt when he noticed the dark shape of someone walking into the other end. The person was stumbling around, drunk, and since he was already hidden Eric thought that he would stay behind a bush and wait until the person was gone. As the dark figure got closer he could tell it was a woman. Then, a large figure burst from the bushes, followed by two more. The first shadow tackled the woman with a shoulder in the small of her back. Eric heard the breath burst from her lungs as she hit the ground. Then the other two shadows swarmed over her. He watched as they cursed at her, wrapping their hands around her throat, hit her, tore her clothes. All the time he could hear the woman's sobs, labored breathing, and choked off pleas to be released. Eric was shaking, he knew he had to do something. Everything was so terrible that he felt like he was watching T.V. Then it occured to him that, if it was T.V. then he couldn't get hurt. All he would have to do is yell or something, then the shadows would leave. Slowly he stepped around the side of the bush. The dark pile of people was making strange noises and saying words that only older kids used before they fought. Eric tried to yell but he couldn't while looking at the writhing pile. He looked up and tried to keep away the sounds by covering his ears. "Go away," he said, in a voice barely louder than a whisper. "GO AWAY!" his shriek tore the muffled comments of the shadows into silence. "GO AWAY!" He yelled again. Eric was starting to feel panic, like he was watching the dark monster again, but this time it was moving. This time it was saying words, words that he couldn't understand. They were quiet, deep in tone and spoken quickly. It's voice was like a hypnotic spell that was placing the black gauze back around his mind. Then a small wimper, from a female voice, escaped from under the monster. The spell was broken and Eric inhaled to scream again. But the monster struck and the world flashed bright as the sun, then faded to darkness. When he woke it was still dark. There was no sign of the monster or the woman, except for a piece of clothing or two. Eric couldn't see out of one eye and his face ached with heat and pain. He ran the rest of the way home, racing through the neighborhood like something was chasing him. He threw open his door and rushed through his house. As he ran, a long yell began to leave his throat. He shoved open his door, slamming it into the wall. In three steps he was on top of the monster squatting by his bed. He grasped it by the tail and whipped it against the nightstand over and over, screaming. "I HATE YOU, I HATE YOU..." finally the monster shattered in his grasp. Eric dropped to the ground and began to cry. The world flared white and a pair of arms grabbed his shoulders. It was his mother. "What's wrong, what are you doing?!" Eric looked down at his hand, where an electrical cord was clenched instead of a tail. A tag reading: "Happy eleventh birthday! Love ya bro', Mike" lay in the wreckage of the clock. "I never want to see Mike again," Eric whispered. "He's a monster." "What happend to your face?" "The Monster bit me." [][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][] ****************************************************** **** The Almost Middle Opinion *** ****************************************************** In the change of any organization there is conflict. We had plenty. Our friendships were tested in may ways as the old made way for the new. I hope that the change you will see take place will be a pleasant one. I would love to hear your comments on the frag design and on the quality of this zine. We make this for you so please e-mail us. In short we would enjoy your input. On a good note, we are back on schedule and have more than enough articles to fill the next frag and that is how we are planning to stay, one week ahead of time. Be prepared because every tuesday night a new fragment of this zine will be out. Enjoy and have a happy Halloween. rApIeR tHe dAtA sToRe ******************************************************************************** Right After the Middle Word by Jeremy Bek aka rApIeR Wheww! We finnaly got this frag out. With late assignments and multiple systems errors we were not quit sure this issue was going out. Well, here it is. Sorry that it is a little late. We also had another technical problem. So some of you that wanted to subscribe or unsubscribe were over looked by the program. This will be corrected by the next issue. Thank you for your patience. A funny thing happened to me on my way to the computer lab today. I decided to stop off at the local soda shop and pick up some refreshment. As I sat down to drink my freshly cooled rootbeer I watched as a little pig came in and ordered a beer. My eyes watched as the bartender served him, while my mind tried to figure out if there was a no pets sign outside or not. After a minute the pig was done and asked the bartender for the directions to the nearest bathroom. After the pig explained his bad need to use the lavatory due to pigs haveing small blatters, the bartender happly pointed to the nearest restroom. The pig left and the bartender looked at the costumers and announced that ,"The bloody pig was going to have an accident on my floor." We all laughed at the thought of the bartender mopping up the pigs mess. I went for a second rootbeer. By the way, did I tell you I was really thirsty? All the sudden a second pig came in and ordered a beer. The same thing happened with a third and forth pig. The bartender look confused as he wondered what kind of shape his bathroom was in after being used by four pigs. Finaly a fith pig came in and ordered a keg. The bartender happily hoisted it on the table as the pig began to drink the entire keg from the spout. I watched in amazement that pigs had such alcohol tolerance. In the end he stood on three legs and tried to walk out of the bar. Realizing that this did not work he tried it with two and found it much easier to work with. As he dizzly walked out of the bar the bartender asked with a confused look on his face,"Are you not going to use the bathroom like all the other pigs?" The pig turned arround with a lit cigar in his mouth and said,"No, don't you remember? I am the piggy that goes we-we-we all the way home." Hope you caught the joke *EvilGrin* rApIeR ******************************************************************************** *^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^* / | | | | | | | | \ / ^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^ \ / Thaumaturgy \ / by Jason Manczur \ / Part1 \ *---------------------------* This report is for everyone, whether you believe in magic or not. This report should clear your mind of some of the negative rumors about thaumaturgy. Thaumaturgy is magick. 'Nuff said. Magick, currently spelled magic, is not the evil creation of Satan, as some would have you believe. It also really does exist. Magic has been around since long before the birth of Satan and Satanism. Magic is simply a different way of looking at the world. For those of you who believe that magic is evil, let us look at why it is viewed as evil. Like religion, politics, math and science, magic is not commonly understood. We often choose to see magic as evil, while we see the other things as merely difficult, but still good. Because of the nature of magic, it has a power to it, and we know that power has a tendency to corrupt. Thus, we see people using magic as corrupt; therefore, they must be using magical power for destructive purposes. We simply choose to ignore or not even see the beneficial ways that magic can be, and is, used. Most people associate magic and witchcraft. Witchcraft is commonly viewed as worship of demons and devils and Satan. Witchcraft is the study of an organized religion, Wicca. Magic, on the other hand, is the study of the forces that make up our world and how they can be used. Magic is also known as the study of the Thaumaturgical Sciences, and as a science, it is split into subsciences, each dealing with a separate way in which magic works. Magic can be, and is, useful in many modern ways. One way in which magic is useful is in the aspect of healing. Healing magic is a powerful method of curing what ails you. Think of it this way, you spend hundreds of dollars a year on medical bills. Now imagine spending just pennies on the dollar going to a spellcaster to cure you of the same ailment, using a different method. Another way in which magic is useful in modern times is in the creation of other substances. For example, a spellcaster may conceivably be able to separate molecules and atoms and combine them magically to create completely new atoms and molecules. This is all for my report this week. Next week I will go into some of the separate sciences of magic. Remember, nothing, in itself, is evil. It is those who use it for evil purposes who make things appear as evil. ******************************************************************************** *---------------* | "Women" | | by | | Jami Jo Tobey | *---------------* I am alive searching _____ seeking / . . \ yearning for the unknown /| ^ |\ the untouched. //\ `-' /\\ Waiting for the sun ////|---|\\\\ listening for the moon ////-' `-\\\\ dancing with the earth /// / \ \\\ watching the clouds laugh // /\ /\ \\ kissing the melting rainbows / | | | | \ running down the mountains | | |-----| | | swimming upstream | |/-------\| | and being still. | / / \ \ | You never see me |/ / \ \| but you touch me / / / \ \ \ when you breathe / / / \ \ \ and cry. / / / \ \ \ You hold my hand unaware. / / / \ \ \ We are of the same seed `~~`~~`~~~~~~~~`~~`~~` yet completely different. | | | | I am the rain (^^^) (^^^) and you soak me up with your warmth. """"" """"" I am the snow that makes you smile and the fire that keeps you warm. I will live forever within you and of you. You will never know me but you will forever love me. I am you best friend perhaps your worst enemy? ******************************************************************************** |\_____|""""""""""""""""""""| || | The Ones We Love +-----\_______________o ||_____|By Russell Hutchison+-----/ o |/ |____________________| o o The cold, bitter wind crawled across Ed's chest as it easily worked it's way past his up-turned trench coat collar. He lowered his chin in an effort to break the winds flow and cover the gap at the throat of his coat. The breeze going down his chest stopped. But there were enough gaps between buttons for the wind to leach away all his coveted heat, despite his vigilant collar-watching. Ed wanted to leave this alley as soon as possible. He felt that all the wind in the city was being channeled through this one concrete canyon. Shivers wracked his body for a second or two but he knew that they were more from his withdrawal symptoms than the cold. He needed to get some heroin, soon. But first he needed the cash. He could think of many places where he could be warmer while he waited for a mark, but this alley held a perfect hiding place to jump out of and was between a favored slumming place of rich snobby kids and the parking lot. No street lights shed their ambient protection from the dark in this alley, and Ed took measures to destroy any such devices that were placed in the area to safe-guard the men and women who made the trek through his best picking grounds. However, he wasn't foolish, he never came here more than once every two months. No good hunter ever over-hunts his prey. The thick clouds blocked out the moon and made the alley a black scar between two tall buildings. The white condensation of his breath would be impossible to see even if the wind wasn't there to tear it from his chilled lips. The feeling in his feet had been fading and his fingers were getting numb, especially those of his left hand, those which grasped the frigid metal of his heavy knife. Then the noise of footsteps approaching were carried to him on the wind. Ed flattened himself against one of the shadowed walls in his hiding place and drew out his blade. A button from his coat pressed coldly against his cheek. He shifted his grip so that he could use the pommel of the knife like a hammer to stun or knockout his target long enough to take what he needed. But as the footsteps got closer Ed heard multiple voices blended together by the wind. He leaned casually against the wall and remained as quiet as possible. A group of two men and one women walked past, but it was hard to tell gender in the darkness of the alley. Their foot steps were irratic and their voices slurred from drinking. Ed watched them stumble by, only two steps away, black shadows drifting by in a bobbing fashion. Four more groups stumbled past, the first groups leaving after last call. But none were small enough for Ed to strike out against. He nervously tapped the flat of the blade with his forefinger as the wind began whittling away at his resolve to stay in this frozen spot waiting for someone alone. More footsteps approached the alley. Ed again flattened against the wall of his hiding place, this time scooting right to the edge of the tiny nook. No one else had seen him in his spot, and he felt confident that he was still hidden. He was worried about his grip on his knife, though. His hands were so numb that he could hardly hold his blade. The brief scent of perfume and alcohol tore past in traces on the wind. Ed watched as a lone figure entered the mouth of the black path. The shadow-ghost came even with his hole and Ed saw that she was alone. She passed by and Ed stepped out to strike, his shaky foot settling in to a frozen puddle. The ice cracked loudly. Ed jumped foward and swung his hand in a downward arch at the shadowy shape, but the figure had reacted to the sound faster then he expected. He hit nothing. The shape had stepped forward and turned around. A female voice screamed out, "Get away!" and a warm spray burned a horizontal path across Ed's neck. The line across his neck burned like fire. He then swung a back hand strike, with all his strength at the origin of the sound with the pommel leading the way. He felt his swing strike home under the chin of the woman, his knife flew out of his grip, disappearing in the darkness. She fell to the ground making sick choking noises. Ed grabbed her purse and ran. Later, while he was riding high on a drug wave, he recieved a phone call from his mother. His cousin and been killed, her throat crushed, but the police had a lead on the killer. Ed was in another room when the call came so the answering machine took the message. He checked the machine a couple of hours later, only minutes before the police arrived to arrest him. ******************************************************************************** ____________________________ | __________________________ | | | NETWORKING SCHOOL DAY | | | | BY | | | | TED SANDERS | | | | | | | | | | | |$ Part I | | | ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ | """""""""""""""""""""""""""" During the past few weeks I've been working on an article that was originally suggested by George Sibley (Faculty advisor for the ICS) that would describe exactly how and if the NET could be a school. When I say school, I don't exactly mean a conventional school - one having a teacher sit over you day after day informing you that you're behind in your homework, your attention skills suck, and if you don't pass next week's test you'll be kicked out of your institution and thrown to the dogs. A school can be many things, but for my purposes I'll include the most general definition I can find. A tool that helps you search for knowledge. To be a little more specific, how does your computer help you search for knowledge throughout the vast cosmos of cyberspace? I asked several people over the net and I got many answers. I found that if you enter the world of Rhostyshl as an invader from the quote RW (Real World) many people will tell you that the NET is an incredible world of social interaction. You can be whoever you want to be, wherever you want to be and still have "tiny sex" with a beautiful princess. When I entered the world of Rhostshyl I explored several plains of existence. My character's title was "reporter" and here is what I looked like. "A short and stocky man holding a pad and pencil. Roving around the mysterious world of the NET in search of information wherever he can find it!" The world of MUD games is one that I find takes integrity and believability away from the NET. While I was on Rhostshyl I also talked to several people in an almost "RW" tense. I asked users why they thought the NET was a school, or how the NET helped them learn more than they already knew. Several said that it helped them experience a separate social life that they could create and control. In my opinion this was a very valid argument. The user enters a world in which no racial barriers are held, and yet cliques are still formed. A world where the only bias is a person's actions. If the contemporary classroom was like this then we wouldn't have to worry about Education in Multicultural Societies, all students would just be electronic images! Others said that it versed them in several different types of computer languages that are necessary to operate on the MUD. I talked to one individual from the University of Illinois who sounded like he was doing absolutely incredible things with his life. He had his B.A. in Chemical Engineering and is working on his Ph.D. I personally admired this man and his accomplishments, so I asked him to submit material for the ICS. He informed me that he had "prior commitments". I found out later that he was talking about prior commitments to his "Guild." At this point I was discouraged. How could the NET be a good source of "knowledge" if it made people make a priorities of playing games as opposed to learning more about our current world and the people within it. Then a ray of hope shone throughout the tunnel of darkness, Listserves! Listserves, for those of you who don't know, are a type of mailing service that sends basic information on specific topics to anyone in the NET who wants it. The really neat thing about listserves or LSV's is that when someone writes to a general audience you can get great publicity! In fact just today I heard about a worldwide contest being held by a group of seventh graders who are trying to show the world that youth do have the power to influence our environment and our future. WOW! talk about a net idea! (bad pun!) From this same listserve, I recieved a direct transcript of Clinton's "Goals 2000" speech, which covered the nation's course for improving education. To get this I would have had to search all over the U.S., but the listserve gave it to me when I didn't even know I wanted it! Listserves are not just limited to education. They also include the areas of Laser Medicine, Money, Ecology, Horror, Physics, British and Irish History, and even Alternative Learning Approaches. The most amazing thing I discovered from was the fact that almost any piece of information can be picked up from the listserve ..... eventually! If you wait long enough on a couple of different listserves, you will find that you can get information within days or sometimes weeks. In my next installment I will address the question, "How can a NET student find specific information in a timely manner?" ******************************************************************************** _______________________________________ (*\ \*) | List Serves | | Do They Really Serve You? | | By Jeremy Bek aka rApIeR | (*\_____________________________________\*) This is the first of what will be a once an issue column about listserves. I will analyze each listserve on the basis of useability, friendliness, enjoyment, and activity. I will also publish the amount of average daily mail and memory use and tell you where to mail to to subscribe. We hope this will be useful to our readers, allowing you to see the different listserves without using up precious memory. I will be going through various forms of listservs, ranging from the political to the recreational. In this issue I will be discussing the Shadowrun listserve. The Shadowrun listserve is a discussion group on the fantasy role playing game Shadowrun tm. On the basis of usability this group gets an A+. This group is a great source for thoughtful discussion and debate of the rules of the game. The members of the listserve are very knowledgable about their subject and are generally helpful to anyone who asks for their help. They also have very inventive minds and come up with some pretty good ideas. On the basis of friendliness they also get a high score. As mentioned earlier, they are always willing to help you think out an idea no matter how ridiculous the idea may seem. If you are a shadowrunner you will love the humor created by this group. In the seven weeks I spent analyzing this group I laughed hard enough to knock me off my chair a half a dozen times or more. Very prolific, they put out several yearly reports and magazines reporting their inventions, ideas, and major discussions. One of these is called NAGEE(Neo-Anarchists Guide to Everything Else), it is approximately .16 megabytes long and is published in several text formats. To pickup a copy go FTPing to and look under the subdirectories Pub, Beelzebub, Role-Playing, Shadowrun, NAGEE. _----------------------------------_ { What you need to know } -__________________________________- There are a couple of things you may want to know in order to subscribe and enjoy this Listserve. The first is that they use a plethora of abbreviations. If you ask, they will send you a complete list of terms and what they mean. The THWAP is another thing you may be curious about. A THWAP is the sound that a wet carp makes when it hits bare skin. This is used when another member of the listserve gets really goofy. You might want to ask for the complete history of the THWAP. Just for fun. In all this is an extremely useful listserve and if you are into Shadowrun I would suggest you join. Daily Memory Use: avg:72 block/day Mail Messages per day: avg:32 mess/day ******************************************************************************** THE FINAL WORD by Ted Sanders During my normal search of the world of the NET I've found many great and interesting things. I've found that some people MUD too much, I've found that some users don't explore enough into the NET, and I've also found that a few cyberpunks don't even know what the NET is. The entire purpose of the I.C.S. since it was started last December is to explore the regions of the "unknown" and make them the regions of the known. For those of you who took the time to write back to the staff and myself, we thank you, but that's not all that we need. The I.C.S. is not only part of the staff writing, but it's a part of the NET. If you are recieving the electrozine, we would like you to start thinking very seriously about submitting to the I.C.S. At one point in the I.C.S.'s history, submissions came pouring over the net (approximately 10 an hour), but this year people are beginning to forget about it's existance. We LOVE to recieve your articles, it enlightens our world and it will probably enlighten yours. This Halloween I had a young friend of mine on campus (Western State College, Gunnison Colorado) turn in a very interesting story to the I.C.S. It was a really great horror story about a modern day headless horseman. I told him that I would take a look at it and see what we could do. The story that I edited was quite interesting and it showed myself and the staff about the incredible imagination of ten year olds! Hopefully this story will be out in issue no. 7 Fragment no.1. These past few weeks the I.C.S. has been exploring new territory that no electrozine has journeyed into before. Our new "Frag" technique has thus far proven to be a success. If you feel that the new technique is a success, or a failure, we would like to hear from you. As I've been told by our new Technical Director, thus far many of you have responded saying that the fragment technique has been quite helpful. In conclusion, all you cyberpunks, hackers, users, and solar cowboys, keep dreaming of electric sheep and I'll see you in Virtual Reality! -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 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. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- BACK ISSUES: Back Issues of ICS can be FTPed from ETEXT.ARCHIVE.UMICH.EDU They are in the directory /pub/Politics/ICS. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------- ICSICSICSICSICSICSICS/\ICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICS CSICSICSICSICSICSICS/ \CSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICS ICSICSICSICSICSICSI/ \ICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSI CSICSICSICSICSICSI/ \CSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSI ICSICSICSICSICSIC/ I C S \ICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSIC CSICSICSICSICSIC/ \CSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSIC ICSICSICSICSICS/ Electro- \ICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICS CSICSICSICSICS/ Zine \CSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICS \ / \ / \ / \ / An Electronic Magazine from \ / Western State College \ / Gunnison, Colorado. \ / ORG_ZINE@WSC.COLORADO.EDU \/ '*' -------------------------------------------------------------------------------


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