1142 lines
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1142 lines
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################ ################## #########
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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
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E L E C T R O Z I N E
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Information Communication Supply 11/16/93 Vol.1:Issue.7 Frag:1
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Email To: ORG_ZINE@WSC.COLORADO.EDU
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E D I T O R S: Local Alias: Email: ICS Positions:
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============== ============ ====== ==============
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Jeremy Bek rApIeR STU521279258 Technical Director,Layout,
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Writer, Editing,
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Subscriptions, Letters,
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Role Playing Games,
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Fragment Design,ListServes
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Ted Sanders Zorro STU520256399 Writer, Final Editor,
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Subscriptions, Fragment
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Design, Final Opinion
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Steven Peterson Rufus Firefly STU388801940 Editing, Writer
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Russel Hutchinson Burnout Writer, Subscriptions,
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Editing
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Jason Manczur GReY KnYgHT STU523356717 Writer,Poet,Editing
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Deva Winblood MeTaL MaSTeR, ADP_DEVA Ask Deva, Tales of the
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Ephemeral Unknown, Editing
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Presence
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Jeremy Greene Diabolus STU521139287 Technical Editor,
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Subscriptions
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Clint Thompson Daos ADP_CLINT Editing, Writer
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George Sibley MAC_FAC FAC_SIBLEY Editing, Supervisor
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_____________________________________________________________________________
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/ \
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| ICS is an Electrozine distributed by students of Western State |
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| College in Gunnison, Colorado. We are here to gather information about |
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| topics that are important to us all as human beings. If you would like |
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| to send in a submission please type it into an ASCII format and mail it |
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| to us. We operate on the assumption that if you mail us something you |
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| want it to be published. We will do our best to make sure it is |
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| distributed and will always inform you when or if it is used. |
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| See the end of this issue for submission information. |
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\_____________________________________________________________________________/
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REDISTRIBUTION: If any part of this issue is copied or used elsewhere
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you must give credit to the author and indicate that the information
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came from ICS Electrozine ORG_ZINE@WSC.COLORADO.EDU.
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DISCLAIMER: The views represented herein do not necessarily represent the
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views of the editors of ICS. contributors to ICS assume all
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responsibilities for ensuring that articles/submissions are not violating
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copyright laws and protections.
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|\__________________________________________________/|
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| \ / |
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| \ T A B L E O F C O N T E N T S / |
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| / \ |
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| /________________________________________________\ |
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|/ \|
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| Included in the table of contents you will see some|
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| generic symbols to help you in making your |
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| decisions on whether an article is something that |
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| may use ideas, and/or language that could be |
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| offensive to some. S = Sexual Content |
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| AL = Adult Language V = Violence O = Opinions |
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|____________________________________________________|
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| |
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| 1) The First Word by Ted Sanders (O) |
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| 2) Russian Scientists by Sibley |
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| 3) Thaumaturgy by Jason Manczur (O) |
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| 4) Amtgard by Russ Huchinson (O) |
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| 5) Eyes of Love by Jason Manczur |
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| 6) New Prejudices by Steven Peterson |
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| 7) PrintHeads Guide by Sibley |
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| 8) Almost Middle Word by Jeremy Bek |
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\____________________________________________________/
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,______________
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|THE FIRST WORD`|
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<~~~~~|BY|~~~~~~>
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|~~TED SANDERS~~|
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~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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This past week the I.C.S. staff asked me to become a bit more
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versatile with my writing and explore the world of "The First Word".
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Opening opinions, as one writer put it, are "mindless dribble of a know
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nothing!" My goal for this opening opinion is to create "mindful creations of
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a know nothing!" Tell me if I succeed.
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Human nature is a society of survival in which the people who
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survive are "the winners". Then maybe somebody can tell me why most of
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society as a whole puts such a priority on the memorization of facts. If
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you operate in today's educational circles, you find that modern
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education deals with a lot of memorization and very little utilization.
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Why? In the United States, more and more American high school students
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are not able to reason. Why? World wide, problem solving abilities are
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[Bfound less frequently among students. For example, Japanese students in a
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national study were found to have very high scores on areas such as Math
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and Science competency, yet had very low scores (nationally) on
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reasoning abilities.
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The entire purpose of education is to take a raw product and
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create a mentally capable student who can deal with the world. Some
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students have this ability, and some are never taught to develop it.
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Why?
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This is my opinion on why I believe our society does not cope with
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this problem.
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Modern Educators find that the true purpose of education
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is to make survivors and not exemplerary thinkers. For example, in the
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American classrooms of today a teacher will try to do what is best for the
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mass of his students. If the mass of his (or her) students do not need
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the abilities of advanced chemistry, the educator will not teach it.
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If the students need to know how to save their money so that they can
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buy a new pair of Adidas, or just pay the rent, the educator will show
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them possible ways to do this. The greatest teacher of reasoning skills
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is the cold harsh reality of society, not educational societies.
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Do you agree, or disagree with this point of view? If you have
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comments, flares, or various arguments to make on this broad topic,
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please express them. I guess I would just like to find out if there might
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be some critical thinkers out in NETland. So please, sit back and enjoy
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this weeks fragment, and tell us what you think (if you do!).
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_***_***_***_***_***_***_***_***_***_***_***_***_***_***_***_***_***_***_***
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____________________________________________
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/\ \
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| |RUSSIAN SCIENTISTS SEEK NETWORK CONNECTIONS|
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| | * By Sibley * |
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\/___________________________________________/
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I.C.S. received a copy of a communication from A.E.
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Varshavsky at the Russian Academy of Sciences in Moscow,
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announcing the creation of a non-profit "Strategy Priorities
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Foundation" (SPF), whereby Russian scientists in the post-Cold-
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War era hope to offer services and establish connections with
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private and public entities around the world.
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Observing that "now Russian science has a hard time,"
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Varshavsky essentially announces the availability of Russian
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scientists in all fields for collaborative projects in and out of
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Russia. The purpose of the Strategy Priorities Foundation, he
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says, is to "avail leading universities, research institutions,
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and companies in all countries of the world of unique economic
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and technical information on the state and perspectives of
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science and technology in Russia. An analysis of the economic
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problems of stability, conversion and disarmament is in the
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framework of SPF's interests as well." Among other
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possibilities, Varshavsky envisions Russian scientists acting as
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consultants for private or public entities interested in the
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opportunities afforded by the Soviet political meltdown.
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E-mail addresses for Varshavsky are (BITNET) C20501@SUCEMI
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or (INTERNET) vars@cemi.msk.su. Snailmail: SPF, Central
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Economics and Mathematics Institute, Russian Academy of Sciences,
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32 Krasikova St. (Room 406), Moscow, 117418 RUSSIA.
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^ * %
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@ \ / (
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| / | \
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////\\\\\\\/////\\\\\\\\
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\\\\\\Thaumaturgy///////
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\\\\ Part 2 ////
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\\\JASON MANCZUR///
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\UUUUUUUUUUUUU/
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Welcome back to my discussion of the mysterious science of
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thaumaturgy. Last week I discussed some of the reasons people think of
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magic as evil. For the next few weeks, I will be discussing some of the
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sciences of magic.
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This week I will discuss one science of magic, divinatory magic.
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Divinatory magic is a magic used for the sole purpose of
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divining, or learning, things. Divinatory magic can be a powerful sort
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of magic. Using divinatory magic is difficult in that you never know
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"the whole story". Divining things can be very useful as well.
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Some of the useful ways to use divinatory magic are to find
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new ways to solve problems. For example, you have to get from
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point "A" to point "B". You don't have a map, and you are alone. How
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will you get there. Simple. You divine the knowledge with a spell.
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Divining magic can be dangerous as well. Knowing too much is a
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problem that most people do not completely understand. For example,
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if you know when you are going to die, you will try to prevent it, which
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in turn will cause it to happen, an apparent paradox. Also, you never
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know what people will think of you when you know things about them that
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they might not want you to know.
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Within divinatory magic, like the other sciences, there are what
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are called sub-sciences. These sub-sciences are also called
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specializations.
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Some of the specializations of divinatory magic are future,
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past, present and diagnostic divinations of the self, divination of writings,
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divination of items and substances and divinations of location. Others
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include future, past, present and diagnostic divinations of others.
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Diagnostic divinations can also be used to find out why things may not
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be working. I am sure that there are other specializations of divination,
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but I, personally, am unaware of them.
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Divination of the future is the most dangerous of the divination
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specializations. This specialization is what some call fortune-telling.
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Future divination is most useful for determining the consequences of
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your actions.
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Past divination is most useful for determining past events. For
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example, you want to know exactly who was on the ship with Odysseus when
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he was trying to reach home after the Trojan war. You would cast a
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powerful past divination spell.
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Diagnostic divination spells are useful for many things. With
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them, you can find out what is wrong with any object, or find out what
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is wrong with someone.
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Present divination can be used to find out such things as what
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people are doing, what people are thinking, where people are, why
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something is happening, and so on and so forth. Anything having to do
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with the present is under present divination, including those spells
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that qualify for other specializations.
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Divination of writing is a small specialization. The reason for
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this is that there are so few spells dealing with divining the meanings
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of writings. Divination of writing is useful if you need to determine
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the meanings of written material or if you just want to read something
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that is written in another language that you do not speak or cannot
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read.
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Divination of location, a highly specialized set of spells, are
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used to determine the location of people, places, and things.
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Divination of items and substances are actually two processes,
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however, they are generally classed together. These specializations are
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useful for determining what objects are used for, how to use them, how they
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work, and why they work. It are also useful for divining what a substance
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is and what that substance's properties are. It is also useful for identifying
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items and finding out whether or not items have been "enchanted".
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That is all for this week. Be sure to read next weeks article
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on Thaumaturgy, it will be discussing enchantment, another science of
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magic.
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################################################################################
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[]
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#########----Game review: Amtgard------\
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#########----By Russell Hutchison------/
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[]
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Have you ever had the desire to swordfight like Errol Flynn or
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Kevin Costner in their Robin Hood films. Or maybe you're a Highlander
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fanatic who lusts for the sound of steel against steel. So you try
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fencing but the fighting in a straight line and only against one foe gets
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boring to you. Then I recommend that you try going to an Amtgard event
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if you have the fortune to find one.
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About two years ago a friend of mine showed me a flier that
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depicted a man in Medieval garb, wielding a large sword in one hand and
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a spear in the other, attacking a pair of men in simmilar dress who were
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wielding swords and shields. As I looked closer I saw that the weapons
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were actually foam padded in some manner. Below the picture in the text
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of the flier was an invitation to come and fight in the lands of the
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"Iron Mountains."
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Well I have always been a fan of role playing games and thought
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that this would be a fun thing to do for a weekend. So my friend and I
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called the phone number on the flier and showed up for the game that
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Saturday. What I found was a sort of capture the flag game with padded
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weapons and a smattering of armor, real chainmail, with rules thrown in
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for the use of a magic system. Upon showing up we were given some
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forms to sign and shown a 58 page rule book explaining the rules of
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play. After reading the basic rules on what to do when hit with weapons
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we decided to take to the field of battle with little comprehension of the
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other rules of the game. I remember that throughout the entire game I
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only "killed" three people, but I was crushed throughly many times. I
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left that day with a rule book in hand and every muscle in my body
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screaming from the tremendous workout.
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After taking the time to read the rules, I returned to the game
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with a much better grasp of what to do when certain things happened.
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The game mechanics were actually very simple and very "deadly." Being
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hit on a limb incapacitated it, losing two limbs was considered death.
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All torso shots from the shoulders down to the hips were considered
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death (including crotch and butt shots!). Head and neck shots were not
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allowed because of possible injury. I soon discovered that the
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epic fights that range accross the field are few and far between, even
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when you've been in the club for a long time. The combat is brutally
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fast and people drop quickly. But one thing that impressed me was the
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safety measures taken by the club. All weapons had to pass a safety
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inspection before their use. The standards were that the stabbing ends
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of the weapons could not fit into an eye socket, and the coring
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could not be felt through the padding. Also the weapon had to be
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padded everywhere except for the grip. There is also a system for
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special abilities of different "classes" that a person could be. Like
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magic for healers, mages, and druids.
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I also learned that this game is not centered in the state of
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Colorado. The game originated in Texas, is present in New Mexico,
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Oregon, California, and even Finland!
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So, if you are ever walking through a city park and see a group
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of people wielding swords and other assorted weapons and beating each
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other silly don't worry. It's probably just the Amtgartians having their
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usual weekend fun. Stop by to try it out. You just may
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get addicted like me. But expect to be sore after the first few days.
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@_@_@_@_@_@_@_@_@_@_@_@_@_@_@_@_@_@__@_@_@_@_@_@_@_@_@_@_@_@_@_@_@_@_@_@_@_@_@_@
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Eyes of Love
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by Jason Manczur
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How can one set of eyes be
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So very deep, and so very bright?
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They shine like the stars,
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With a heavenly light.
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They're deep like an ocean,
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Pretty as they can be.
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I love your eyes,
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But do they love me?
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A better question
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Asks the same of you.
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If the answer is yes,
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I'll ne'er be blue.
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I want to tell you
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Just how much I care,
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That I really love you,
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And will always be there.
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If you need someone
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for any reason,
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If my heart is not there,
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It will hang for treason.
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That is how much
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I love you my dear.
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When we are together,
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You have nothing to fear,
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For my love will protect you.
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I love you with all
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of my heart and my soul.
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If you do not love me,
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It will take its toll
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On my heart and my spirit,
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And the depths of my mind.
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When I am with you
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I always find
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A warmth and a caring
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That fills up my life.
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Oh, please my love,
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Will you be my wife?
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KNYGHT
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~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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_________________________
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| New Prejudices |
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| By |
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| Steven Peterson |
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|_______________________|
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"What we call progress," said Havelock Ellis,"is the exchange of
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one nuisance for another nuisance." This thought, obvious to anyone who
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embraces an expanding technological culture, occurs to me most every
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time my telephone rings. The telephone, perhaps the single most useful
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device in our 20th century, is on the verge of progressing from playing
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a stationary role into becoming what amounts to a new mechanical
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appendage. As various world cultures open their airwaves to the cordless
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digital telephone revolution, they also invite a change in the
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fundamental nature of interpersonal communications.
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The ability to instantly access individuals wherever they may be
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(and potentially interrupting any activity from the mundane to the
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critical) presents a new ethical quandary for all telephone users. In
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America, telephone technology is already abused in a depressing variety
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of ways - solicitation, harassment, and "answering-machine screening"
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are the most common. Carried into every moment of your waking life,
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these currently minor nuisances could easily mushroom into a major waste
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of time and energy. Personally, the use of machines to "screen" calls
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strikes me as particularly cowardly - if you have to fear someone, fear
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their physical reality, not their disembodied voice.
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Since I'm on the subject of fear and cowardice, I'd like to
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consider a problem this new technology will generate for our law
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enforcement agencies - educating mobile telephone users in procedures
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for reporting crime in a rational manner. I can envisage two possible
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(if not likely) scenarios: over- and under-reporting of incidents
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as they are witnessed. In the first case, a series of calls reporting a
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criminal incident will flood the "911" operators, essentially creating a
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"logjam" of incoming calls that could threaten the viability of the
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entire system. In the second scenario, passive indifference or
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fear may prevent anyone from reporting an incident - something I call the
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"Kitty Genovese" syndrome. Kitty Genovese was an American woman who was
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brutally murdered in New York city some time ago in front of a building
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full of citizens who chose to remain passive - the witnesses simply "let
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someone else get involved". Obviously, these problems are as old as
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communication itself. Nevertheless, some sort of educational program
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designed to give individuals some sort of guidelines will need to be
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developed and implemented. Perhaps attaching a compulsory test similar
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to the Driver's license exam may be a solution.
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Moving into the truly private (or personal) realm of communication,
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I feel this technology will most likely serve to increase the distance
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between individuals. As instant access to individuals, wherever they may
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happen to be, becomes commonplace, the institution of face-to-face
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communication may gradually erode. Indeed, the very system I am using to
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bring this column to you, dear reader, is predicated on a non-confrontational
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philosophy. On the one hand, I really enjoy the benefits this type of
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forum provides; however, on the other hand there is something - call it
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"emotional intimacy" if you will, which this forum cannot offer.
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Extended into everyday life, I'm not sure if I will want to be limited
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by a new convention of simply calling individuals - not all communication
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can be expressed in sounds and printed words. Then again, humans may be in
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the process of evolving into a state where non-verbal communication is no
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longer relevant or necessary.
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This contrast between remote and physically immediate communication
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fascinates me. On the surface both seem to be completely valid forms of
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communication, and indeed they are. I guess my problems stem from the
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potential for abuse. The telephone has always represented (at least for me)
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a device capable of delivering devastating messages. Too often, emotionally
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difficult messages (such as the death of a loved one or an attempt to end
|
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a romantic relationship) are transmitted over the "wire". Anyone who has
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experienced one of these calls can tell you about the feelings of frustration,
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anxiety, and detachment they engender. I can see the appeal of using the
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telephone to deliver painful messages - psychological detachment makes many
|
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difficult decisions easier to implement. Unfortunately, the benefit is usually
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only enjoyed by the sender, the receiver of the message has to deal with
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the emotional fall-out in isolation.
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Once again, I find myself facing a dilemma - how to balance the
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benefits of technology against the potential for misuse. Digital
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telephone transmission promises to open new avenues of computer-driven
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communication; however, I feel it must not become the dominant form of
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interpersonal exchange - at least until the appropriate social
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conventions governing its use are firmly entrenched. A bit of the
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chicken and the egg in that last statement, but hey, I enjoy conundrums.
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As with television, the subject of my previous column, humanity must
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face these and other difficult decisions regarding the use of the machines
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we build.
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"The telephone, I believe, is the greatest boon to bores ever
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invented. It has set their ancient art upon a new level of
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efficiency and enabled them to penetrate the last strongholds
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of privacy."
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- H.L. Mencken
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(1931)
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*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^^*^^^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^*^^*^*^*^*^*^*^
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________________________________________________________
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\ \
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| A PRINTHEAD'S GUIDE TO NETWORKING |
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| by George Sibley, ElectroZine Advisor/Cheerleader |
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\______________________________________________________\
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To begin with a definition, a "printhead" is a paper-
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oriented person--a person who doesn't know what to do with his or
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her hands while reading a screen.
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Like most printheads, I learn by reading, the most
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interactive sport you can do without making noise, and I'm still
|
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having trouble learning to read a screen rather than watch it. I
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still find books and magazines to be more "user-friendly" than
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the computer--there is no scrolling device yet that comes close
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to thumb-finger-eye coordination for flipping around in books,
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and I can't yet afford a terminal small enough to take to bed at
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night without really endangering my nose.
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I am, however, willing to acknowledge the extent to which
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this is just a comfortable middle-aged bias: having grown up
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with books, I "naturally" (what we say when we mean "culturally")
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fall back on them when the world gets excessively interesting.
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And one area in which the world is getting very interesting is in
|
|
the phenomenon of connecting computers together around the world.
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|
A phenomenon that--among many, many other things--enables this
|
|
"electrozine" to happen. So, while I have followed, and used,
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|
Deva Winblood's fine and accessible "WorldNet Tour Guide" in
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these pages--or rather, on these screens--I have to admit how
|
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glad I have been to find some printworld books on the topic of
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networking.
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Two in particular have come out recently that I want to
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commend to the reader's attention--one, a down-on-the-ground,
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|
nuts-and-bolts exploration of Internet, the world's largest
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computer network, and the other a more philosophical and
|
|
evaluative exploration of networking in general.
|
|
The first book is THE WHOLE INTERNET USER'S GUIDE AND
|
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CATALOG, written by Ed Krol, and published by O'Reilly and
|
|
Associates, Inc. of Sebastopol, CA (E-mail: nuts@ora.com, or
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uunet/ora/nuts). For those like myself who need fairly detailed
|
|
instructions on how to do virtually everything with the computer-
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-and need the instructions somewhere besides on the screen where
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we are trying to do whatever--this book is very good. It tells
|
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the networker how to log in on Internet, how to telnet in to the
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big mainframe computers, how to work with file transfer
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protocols, how to "finger" users on other systems, and generally
|
|
how to search through the increasingly vast resources accessible
|
|
to users around the world. It will tell you how to do things I
|
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don't even understand yet.
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And the book concludes with a "Whole Internet Catalog" of
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resources available at the time of the book's printing (most
|
|
recently, July 1993)--opening that catalog section at random and
|
|
scanning the listings, I found a gamut of resources ranging from
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the "Bedford Institute of Oceanography" through the "Non-linear
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Dynamics Archive" to "The Simpsons Archive" (under "Popular
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Culture").
|
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Preceding all of this rather specific hands-on advice,
|
|
however, is a more general discussion of Internet--a discussion
|
|
that includes a brief history of the network's development, and
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some thoughts on the future of the system. There is also a
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chapter on Internet politics and ethics.
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This more philosophical part of the book ties in well with
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the other book: a Worldwatch Paper (Sept. 1993) by Worldwatch
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Senior Researcher John E. Young, titled GLOBAL NETWORK:
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COMPUTERS IN A SUSTAINABLE SOCIETY.
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Both of these books acknowledge the early origins of
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computer networking in America's defense industries, and their
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subsequent expansion into the multitude of uses by and for those
|
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whose business is managing, influencing, and keeping track of a)
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money and b) us masses. The potential of the computer in aiding
|
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those with, shall we say, either less than or more than
|
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democratic designs has been often noted.
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|
Their interest, however, is in the extent to which computer
|
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networking has become, and could continue to become, a
|
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democratizing technology that, more than anything else, is making
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us one world--one intelligent world, at that. Krol's fascination
|
|
seems to be most interested in the extent to which computer
|
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networks like Internet make accessible to the individual. He
|
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declares that "network ethics" can be distilled to "two
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overriding premises":
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-- Individualism is honored and fostered.
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-- The network is good and must be protected.
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He notes the similarity between this ethos and the
|
|
straightforward ethical systems like the "Law of the West" by
|
|
which frontier societies are governed.
|
|
This two-law ethos, however, may be straightforward, but it
|
|
is not simple: rather, it just sets up the cultural tension
|
|
between the individual and the community--in this case, the
|
|
network--that is the source of all subsequent volumes of
|
|
increasingly detailed and often obscure law trying to mitigate or
|
|
eliminate that tension.
|
|
Those who have read, say, Richard White's new history of the
|
|
American West, IT'S YOUR MISFORTUNE AND NONE OF MY OWN, may also
|
|
be concerned about the emphasis on individualism; he documents,
|
|
beyond reasonable dismissal to my mind, the extent to which the
|
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honoring and fostering of individualism in the West worked mostly
|
|
(although not necessarily conspiratorially) as a smokescreen
|
|
which facilitated the total coopting of the West by big
|
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government and big business.
|
|
An emphasis on individualism, in other words, may
|
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paradoxically be counter-productive in the long run for
|
|
individuals on the networks--especially given the extent to which
|
|
the networks already exist somewhat at the tolerance of big
|
|
government and the other quasi-public controllers of the
|
|
mainframes and "hosts" on which the networks depend.
|
|
"Strengthening the communities"--the "communities of interest,"
|
|
in this case, rather than the "communities of place"as in the
|
|
frontier societies may be a more productive direction for the
|
|
further evolution of the nets.
|
|
John Young's Worldwatch essay seems to move more in that
|
|
direction. He is most interested in the potential of networks
|
|
for connecting communities of interest in politically effective
|
|
ways--modelling and monitoring the biosphere, modelling and
|
|
monitoring economies, connecting political entities in developing
|
|
countries with each other and with alternative political entities
|
|
in developed countries, and other challenges related to the
|
|
development of sustainable human societies on earth.
|
|
The evolution of such communities of interest will, of
|
|
course, at the very least try the patience of the large political
|
|
and economic entities, both public and private, which a) are not
|
|
always particularly altruistic in their motives nor "sustainable"
|
|
in their objectives, and b) are in control of some of the vital
|
|
elements of the networks.
|
|
I find myself wanting to believe that the embullient and
|
|
expansive attitude pervading the networks today will last--that
|
|
this impressive and inexpensive ethos of access and "info-equity"
|
|
will prevail, that the electronic circulation of information will
|
|
be like the light of the sun or water in a sieve: something
|
|
impossible to control and regulate, something impossible to turn
|
|
into "commercial property" and charge for. But I have to confess
|
|
that I am less optimistic, the more I learn about the extent to
|
|
which the networks depend on institutions that have never--even
|
|
in America--been real friends of democratic and inexpensive
|
|
access to anything.
|
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^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
|
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()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()
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()()The Almost Middle Word()()
|
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()()()()By Jeremy Bek)()()()()
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()()()()()()()()()()()()()()()
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This is a zine designed to be enjoyable to anyone in any land.
|
|
So I am going to present a question that affects every nation, Poverty.
|
|
Why do we let it happen? With the worlds total wealth we could give
|
|
everyone on the planet an annual wealth of 24,000 american dollars per
|
|
year. Is greed really that prevalent? What can we do? If any one has
|
|
this kind of information I would really like to receive it. Thanx
|
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rApIeR
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--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
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We at ICS would enjoy receiving comments, subscriptions, and
|
|
entries to the Zine. Please send them all to ORG_ZINE@WSC.COLORADO.EDU
|
|
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
|
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BACK ISSUES: Back Issues of ICS can be FTPed ETEXT.ARCHIVE.UMICH.EDU
|
|
They are in the directory /pub/Politics/ICS.
|
|
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
|
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ICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICICS/~~~\
|
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ICSICSICSICSICSICS/~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ICS ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~\
|
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\ INFORMATION COMMUNICATION SUPPLY /
|
|
~~~~~~~~~~~\ORG_ZINE/~~~~~~~~~~~~~ICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSI
|
|
~~~~~~~~ICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICS
|
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An Electronic Magazine from Western State College Gunnison, Colorado.
|
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-------------------------------------------------------------------------------
|
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################ ################### #########
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### ## ## ## ##
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### ## ##
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### ## ##
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### ## ####
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### ## ####
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### ## ##
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### ## ##
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### ## ## ## ##
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################ ################## #########
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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
|
|
|
|
Established by Deva Winblood In 1993
|
|
Information Communication Supply 1/18/94 Vol.1:Issue.7 Frag: 2
|
|
Email To: ORG_ZINE@WSC.COLORADO.EDU
|
|
|
|
E D I T O R S: Local Alias: Email: ICS Positions:
|
|
============== ============ ====== ==============
|
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Jeremy Bek rApIeR STU521279258 Technical Director
|
|
Steven Peterson Rufus Firefly STU388801940 Managing Editor
|
|
Russ Hutchinson Burnout STU524636420 Writer
|
|
Jason Manczur GRey KnYgHT STU523356717 Writer
|
|
Deva Winblood MeTaL MaSTeR ADP_DEVA Ask Deva(Once Again)
|
|
Clinton Thompson Shing ADP_CLINT Writer
|
|
George Sibley MAC_FAC FAC_SIBLEY Editing, Supervisor
|
|
|
|
_____________________________________________________________________________
|
|
/ \
|
|
| ICS is an Electrozine distributed by students of Western State |
|
|
| College in Gunnison, Colorado. If you would like to send in a submission |
|
|
| please type it into an ASCII format and mail it to us. |
|
|
\_____________________________________________________________________________/
|
|
|\__________________________________________________/|
|
|
| \ / |
|
|
| \ T A B L E O F C O N T E N T S / |
|
|
| / \ |
|
|
| /________________________________________________\ |
|
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|/ \|
|
|
| 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 |
|
|
|____________________________________________________|
|
|
| 1. The Cliff by Clinton Thompson (V) |
|
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| |
|
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| 2. A Thought on AI in the Workplace (O) |
|
|
| by Michael McAfee |
|
|
| 3. For God and King by Russell Hutchinson (V) |
|
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| |
|
|
| 4. Walking Alone On a Wet Autumn Night |
|
|
| by Bob Wilson |
|
|
| 5. Plasma by Steven Peterson (V, AL) |
|
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| |
|
|
| 6. Final Word(Changes) by Jeremy Bek |
|
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|____________________________________________________|
|
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******************************************************************************
|
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|
r-------------------------;
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| The Cliff / O -arrgh!
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| r \|/
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| By Clinton Thompson | |
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| / / \
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| /
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| |
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|______________________|
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|
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The sun glinted off the river in the distance, making it shimmer like
|
|
quick-silver. One could see most of the valley from where Lance sat. All the
|
|
fields and rolling hills looked like a worn and wrinkled carpet. In other
|
|
circumstances he would have enjoyed the view, but he did not. The panorama
|
|
was only a reminder of his prison. The air around him and the stone at his
|
|
back were bars. As it was, the boy clung high above where he wished to be,
|
|
flat ground. As he clung to his small ledge his mind wandered as one's mind
|
|
often will when under stress.
|
|
The morning was clear and crisp like a proper autumn morning should be.
|
|
He awoke earlier than usual and went to the kitchen to rummage around for some
|
|
breakfast. His mother was gone to town, and his father was at work in the
|
|
fields. A perfect day for a hike! He put some cheese, bread, and a bottle of
|
|
water in a little sack. On his way to the trail that led to the hills and
|
|
jagged rocks behind his home, Lance had picked up a coil of rope and slung it
|
|
about his shoulder.
|
|
Lance now watched this same rope broken and swinging peacefully out of
|
|
reach - fifteen feet out of reach. His entire situation could be seen in that
|
|
swaying rope. Suddenly, he saw his situation very clearly. There were two
|
|
alternatives, only two. One was to wait in indecision, hoping for someone to
|
|
come. Two, he could try to get himself off of the cliff. No one was going to
|
|
come. No one even knew he was gone, and no one would know where he went. He
|
|
rarely hiked by himself.
|
|
The cliff was smooth, vertical sandstone. As Lance studied it, he noticed
|
|
for the first time that there were small pock marks and cracks throughout its
|
|
surface. Lance's thoughts moved aimlessly over school and friends. He was a
|
|
good student, not an over achiever, but a hard worker. Then his thoughts moved
|
|
to where they had been for several weeks, Lisa, and for a moment he was
|
|
content. He remembered their date the night before, the way they had touched
|
|
and her eyes in the moonlight. His heart and mind raced at the thought of it.
|
|
Lance looked at his watch. It was almost noon. He had sat on the cliff,
|
|
in this crack, for three and a half hours. For the first time he realized how
|
|
thirsty he was and how hot it was becoming.
|
|
Fear, for the first time in his life, true fear gripped his heart. Someone
|
|
would come. Wouldn't they? This thought echoed through his mind. And even as
|
|
it did, it sounded false and empty deep inside.
|
|
Lance carefully maneuvered around, so that his knees were on the ledge,
|
|
and he hugged the cliff in an embrace not inspired by affection. His fingers
|
|
crawled out, feeling and searching for a crevice to tie his life to. They
|
|
found one. His hand held like steel bands driven into the rock, driven by
|
|
desperation. His body, taut and relentless, followed after, searching for its
|
|
own place of safety. Carefully, after many minutes of searching, his feet found
|
|
niches of their own. He was able to rest for a moment, in a strange sense of
|
|
the word. He was flat against the surface of this wall, like a great
|
|
mountaineer - except he had no safety ropes, or experience for this situation.
|
|
Another hour had passed, or so it seemed to Lance as he creeped over the
|
|
weathered surface of the cliff. Many times he had stopped, trying in vain to
|
|
rest his aching, cramped muscles. Jeans, shirt, and flesh bled a mix of
|
|
perspiration and desire to reach the top and live. He realized he did not want
|
|
to die. With a grim smile, he recalled being told that one does not always get
|
|
what one wants. Lance clung to the rock like a frightened shadow. Finally, his
|
|
feet found a fragment of rock that he could stand on.
|
|
As he rested for a minute on the ledge, he wished he would not have to
|
|
go on. He knew there was no choice now. Then a soft cracking sound interrupted
|
|
his thoughts, it was as if the ledge had something to say. To Lance it sounded
|
|
like thunder. He knew then, and every fiber of his existence knew in the same
|
|
instant. He tried to scream, but it did not come. Only a hopeless moan of
|
|
wasted dreams. His life passed before his eyes. It slid by with the cliff,
|
|
and when the cliff ended so did the vision, in an explosion of dust.
|
|
|
|
|
|
*******************************************************************************
|
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_____________________________________
|
|
/ _______________________________ \
|
|
| / \ |
|
|
| |A Thought on AI in the Workplace| |
|
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| \ by Michael McAfee / |
|
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| ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ |
|
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\_____________________________________\
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\_|_|_|_|_|_|_|_|_|_|_|_|_|_|_|_|_|_|_\
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\_|_|_|_|_|_|_|_|_|_|_|_|_|_|_|_|_|_|_\
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\|_|_|_|_|_|_|_|_|_|_|_|_|_|_|_|_|_|_|\
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~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
|
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A coworker and I were discussing what we wanted out of
|
|
the computers we use at work. The coworker described the artificial
|
|
intelligence (AI) system he'd like to have - a simple environment
|
|
manager that would be able to choose various parameters without being
|
|
asked, along with voice recognition and a pleasant "personality."
|
|
That made me wonder about AI in the workplace of the
|
|
future. Try this for a possibility. AI systems learn from experience,
|
|
to put it in basic terms. For example, consider a chess program.
|
|
A "dumb" program has a limited number of moves and strategies. Once you
|
|
figure out what strategies it doesn't know, you'll beat the program
|
|
every time. An AI chess program not only learns from its mistakes,
|
|
but also (if it's "smart" enough) tries to figure out what strategies
|
|
you don't know. The program makes changes to suit the user.
|
|
Apply this to your workstaion. An AI program manager will figure
|
|
out which settings you prefer, how you like to be addressed, etc.
|
|
In effect, you'd have to train your AI system. This takes time, maybe
|
|
a week or so for the system to adjust to your needs. In that week,
|
|
think of how much time you have to spend away from actual work!
|
|
Well, what if your brand new AI system had already been
|
|
trained with a few standard routines? Perhaps the company that
|
|
produced the AI has a good reputation for training AI systems.
|
|
Or even better, maybe you can get this AI from another company,
|
|
so it already has some experience in the workplace. A list of
|
|
what it knows would come with it, and you could work with it a
|
|
little to see if it suits you...
|
|
Training? A list of skills? That's right folks, these
|
|
are analogs to college, prior work experience, a resume, and an
|
|
interview session. As our computers get smarter, we'll have to
|
|
choose them with care like we choose any employee.
|
|
But consider this one last analogy. Let's say the president
|
|
of the company has an AI system that becomes inoperable for some
|
|
reason. The president has to get a new system. Is he going to
|
|
get a system from outside the company that knows only the standard
|
|
business routines but none specifically for his company? More likely
|
|
he'll request a system from one of the department heads, a system
|
|
that has shown it can handle the responsibilities the president will
|
|
place on it.
|
|
|
|
So think about what you're going to do when, in the future,
|
|
your workstation gets a promotion before you do.
|
|
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
|
|
^
|
|
* ^ ^ ^
|
|
* For God and King... / \_/ \_/ \
|
|
<*******> |* # * # *|
|
|
* By Russell Hutchison .~~~~~~~~~~~.
|
|
* (' ' ' ' ' ')
|
|
* .~~~~~~~~~~~.
|
|
*
|
|
V
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|
|
Philip drew the bow string back until it gently touched his right
|
|
cheek. He looked down the ash arrow shaft and brought the sharp steel point
|
|
on line with the peasants back. The white mist from his breath lightly blued
|
|
his vision as he adjusted his aim to deal with the slope he has shooting up.
|
|
Exhaling, he let go of the string when his arm steadied, then inhaled as the
|
|
shot sailed to its target. The flight of the arrow was short, only fifteen
|
|
paces at most. The man was hit before he could react to the sound of the
|
|
whistling shaft. The arrow buried itself up to its fletching in the man's back,
|
|
then he slid forward off the log he had been sitting on, landing out of his
|
|
killer's view. A scream of terror originated from the other people sitting
|
|
around the fire ring.
|
|
Philip had nocked a second arrow and aimed, then fired at a bearded
|
|
man who stood up to run from the ring. The shaft skewered the man lower than
|
|
Philip had intended, coming to rest in his abdomen. He went tumbling down the
|
|
hill towards Philip, moaning in pain. Drawing his broad sword, the archer
|
|
stood up from his hiding place behind a fallen log and stepped forward to put
|
|
the man out of his misery. He forced the wounded man on to his back with his
|
|
foot, stood on the man's shoulder to keep him from moving, and drove the sword
|
|
through the ragged shirt to his heart. Philip was glad that the his eyes had
|
|
been closed, he doubted he could have killed him if they had locked gazes.
|
|
Philip retrieved his bow from the crusty snow and walked up the hill
|
|
to the abandoned fire ring. He smelled burning hair. He stepped over the log
|
|
and looked at the man he had killed. There were three other bodies in the camp
|
|
and Philip could hear his fellow Norman and archer, Rift, coming down from his
|
|
position up slope. One was a man lying with his face in the fire coals, an
|
|
arrow through his throat. The second was a young woman, pinned to the tree she
|
|
had been leaning against by a shaft through her heart. Bright life-blood was
|
|
running from her mouth, and the shaft was still vibrating from its strike. The
|
|
last body was that of a female child, which had been sitting on the lap of his
|
|
first victim when Philip's arrow had struck. Both were dead, connected by
|
|
the thin wooden stick.
|
|
Philip's stomach turned at the sight of the innocent dead. He felt no
|
|
compassion for the slain men, after all, the Normans had just taken over
|
|
England and Philip was used to the face of war. But grief at the sight of the
|
|
dead women filled his belly. He doubled over and retched.
|
|
A boot kick knocked the sick man over. Rift towered above him. "Stop
|
|
that, weakling! These people have killed our brothers and sons, cutting their
|
|
throats in the night! They must be taught to bend to our rule. Great William,
|
|
the Conqueror, has given me these lands to govern in his name and I'll break
|
|
these people to my will. Now get up, a girl got away. You will track and kill
|
|
the child. Bring me her head or I'll take yours!"
|
|
"Your're a butcher Rift, I can't believe that I followed you out here
|
|
to slaughter women and children. I think God sent me along to see what you've
|
|
become. Since you lost your son at Hastings your heart has been dead. Killing
|
|
Saxons won't make them loyal subjects, only killers like you!"
|
|
Rift's hands shook with anger as he screamed. "Traitor, weakling,
|
|
If you don't kill when I command, you'll die when I command!" Raising his bow
|
|
with arrow nocked, Rift aimed for Philip's heart. Philip sprung up as fast as
|
|
he could, trying to get to Rift with sword before the arrow flew. Rift
|
|
realized his problem and fired before he came back fully on mark. The shaft
|
|
lodged in Philip's midsection but he was still able to step close enough to
|
|
strike back. Rift couldn't back up fast enough on the slick snow and his throat
|
|
was cut open. Both men crumpled to the ground. Philip knew that the wound was
|
|
fatal, he was skewered though the liver, while Rift's life pumped away
|
|
unchecked on the snow.
|
|
In his dying hours Philip consoled himself though the pain.
|
|
Telling himself that God had sent him to stop the madman and make peace
|
|
between Saxons and King.
|
|
|
|
/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-
|
|
^ ^
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|
Walking Alone In A Wet Autumn Night / \ / \
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|
(_) (_)
|
|
|
|
Closed, cluttered quarters, relinquished control
|
|
Captive by chance and exacting it's toll
|
|
Remove conversation
|
|
Regain affirmation ^
|
|
Walking alone in a wet autumn night / \
|
|
(_) ^
|
|
Dark, like a comfort, a safe place to hide / \
|
|
The mist held my face in her arms as I cried (_)
|
|
Remove all the sound
|
|
Shoes pummel the ground ^
|
|
Walking alone in a wet autumn night / \
|
|
(_)
|
|
The dew in the grass is soaking my feet
|
|
I've come here for answers to questions complete
|
|
Remove just the fear
|
|
A healing draws near
|
|
Walking alone in a wet autumn night
|
|
|
|
This love in my life lies gently with me ^
|
|
Possessing a strength not easy to see / \
|
|
I'll seek out her light (_)
|
|
Relinquish this fight
|
|
By walking alone in a wet autumn night
|
|
|
|
________________________________________________________________________________
|
|
Bob Wilson
|
|
bobw@ncatfyv.uark.edu
|
|
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
|
|
|
|
|
|
____-^^^^^^-____
|
|
: PLASMA :
|
|
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
|
|
By Steven Peterson
|
|
|
|
The first sound Rico heard that morning was the soft pit-pat of rain
|
|
on the window next to his bed. The peace of the morning didn't last long
|
|
however - a rude, ugly rapping on the door signalled the end of his
|
|
brief fugue state.
|
|
Mr. Lowell, the friendly agent of the housing authority gestapo
|
|
boomed in his less-than tender voice, "C'MON RICO, THE 21ST CENTURY
|
|
AIN'T FREE - WHERE'S YOUR RENT?"
|
|
Rico really didn't want to deal with Lowell's intrusion, but felt
|
|
compelled to get it over with. Reaching for his pants he shouted "IN A
|
|
MINUTE, LOWELL, I'VE GOT YOUR RENT!"
|
|
Half-dressed, Rico began searching for his wallet, the one
|
|
containing his severance pay from his most recent worthless service job.
|
|
Finding it, he opened the door a crack and faced Lowell, "I'm gonna need
|
|
a receipt for this."
|
|
"Yeah, I know," Lowell fished the book out of his back pocket and began
|
|
scribbling, "heard about your latest fiasco, what you gonna do for work
|
|
now, slick?"
|
|
"Goddam E-Mail," Rico felt his blood begin to boil, "ain't nothin'
|
|
private anymore".
|
|
"Not as long as you live here, buddy". Lowell's standard response.
|
|
The exchange completed, Rico turned his thoughts toward answering
|
|
Lowell's snide question. Cooking and cleaning seemed his destiny -
|
|
school just didn't seem a likely avenue for him. Another trip to the Job
|
|
Service Corps, then another round on the application circuit, finished
|
|
off by a trip to the Plasma Center (Gotta put somethin' in my belly
|
|
today). Altogether, a busy day.
|
|
Resenting the whole stinkin' prospect, Rico took a short inventory:
|
|
wallet cleaned out by Lowell, unemployed and adrift in the city, hungry -
|
|
not a lot to cherish. Somehow the t.v.'s message of hope and the
|
|
"dawning of a new century" didn't offer much comfort, or hope for that
|
|
Amatter. Looking out the window, Rico's reality of rain and drudgery
|
|
seemed to manifest itself in the hunched, hurried posture of the
|
|
pedestrians down below. As Rico threw on his coat and grabbed his keys,
|
|
he took one last glance out the window and muttered, "no shit the 21st
|
|
century ain't free".
|
|
Opening the door to the Job Service Corps lobby, the scent of too
|
|
many people and too much frustration assaulted his soul:
|
|
"Whattya mean I got no benefits left!"
|
|
"I'm sorry, sir, but that's all we have available today."
|
|
"Next."
|
|
"Look Man, if I don't get somethin', they gonna revoke my lease."
|
|
A couple hours of this would drive Rico right into downtown
|
|
bluesville. Thinking better of it, Rico decided to skip it - it could
|
|
wait a day or two. And besides, he had heard The Blue Oyster needed a
|
|
new dishdog. What the hell, it was on the way to the Plasma Center
|
|
anyway.
|
|
Back out on the street, Rico started walking east, into the rain,
|
|
wishing he had an umbrella. At least the panhandlers were hiding out in
|
|
the doorways and bus stations - although they usually sensed he was a
|
|
poor target, he just wasn't in the mood.
|
|
Fourteen blocks and fourteen hundred puddles later, Rico found
|
|
himself in front of the Oyster. Looking down at his grungy shoes,
|
|
feeling the cold dampness of his feet, he felt ready to play the part.
|
|
Dad always said, "in every town in America, there are jobs that go
|
|
begging - they're usually hard, dirty jobs, but if you're willing to
|
|
work hard, there's something out there".
|
|
Walking in the door (squishing actually), Rico started to head for
|
|
the kitchen. The bartender gave him a sidelong glance, then went back to
|
|
washing his collection of glassware. Poking his head through the swinging
|
|
doors, he found who he was looking for, the manager. Catching his eye,
|
|
Rico asked, "you still lookin' for a dishdog". Hoping his tone of voice
|
|
was appropriate, Rico did his best to maintain eye contact.
|
|
The manager gave him a long, judgemental look and replied, "not
|
|
today, c'mon back tomorrow, might have something for ya then".
|
|
Ducking back out of the doorway, Rico took his time walking toward
|
|
the exit - the smell of the food (seafood, hardly his favorite) was
|
|
getting to him. The grumbling of his stomach quickly reminded him of his
|
|
next stop on this ugly little tour - the Plasma Center. Dodging a
|
|
waitress, he made it to the door and stepped back out into the rain.
|
|
Squishing his way eastward, Rico panicked for a moment - he forgot
|
|
his pennies - the ones he always carried in his pockets to the Center in
|
|
order to beat the weight restriction. A hundred and twenty pounds. Then
|
|
he remembered his shoes - the water might do it ... it would have to.
|
|
As he approached the Center, Rico once again reflected on the one
|
|
positive effect of AIDS - clean human plasma kept rising in value.
|
|
Finally, there was a profit in celibacy. A small one, granted, but Rico
|
|
didn't have to work hard to stay "clean". Half a C-note for ninety minutes -
|
|
not bad. Unfortunately, Rico, like everybody else, could only "donate" once
|
|
a week. The nurses say that the cut-back from the old twice-a-week schedule
|
|
is due to testing requirements, but secretly Rico believed that it was just
|
|
a way of easing the regulars into the era of synth-blood.
|
|
Opening yet another door, Rico was pleased to see that the usual
|
|
line wasn't there - that's what he called service. Walking up to the
|
|
window, Rico looked at the fat nurse and gave his name and file number.
|
|
She looked down at her desk and sternly stated, "no appointment,
|
|
I take it".
|
|
Once again, Rico glanced at his wet shoes and then replied, "no
|
|
ma'am".
|
|
Looking up from her pad, the nurse, who actually enjoyed this
|
|
routine began the round of usual questions:
|
|
"Any drugs or alcohol in the last forty-eight hours?"
|
|
"Any unprotected sexual contacts since your last visit?"
|
|
"Any health problems since your last visit?"
|
|
"Any IV procedures ..."
|
|
As they went through the list, Rico gave the appropriate answers
|
|
while avoiding eye-contact with the nurse (or anyone else for that
|
|
matter). Finishing the Q and A session, the nurse asked Rico to please
|
|
step on the scale located next to where he was standing. Rico hated the
|
|
fact that the only read-out was on the other side of the glass. The
|
|
suspense of the moment gnawed at his spirit while he stood on the
|
|
platform, feeling like meat in the hands of a butcher.
|
|
"Okay, please have a seat until your name is called", the nurse
|
|
seemed somehow disappointed as she spoke, her role in the game finished.
|
|
Rico stepped back, savoring the knowledge that the water in his
|
|
shoes did the trick - it was always a close call.
|
|
Finding a "Tear-Sheet Times", Rico sat down on one of the hard
|
|
plastic chairs and read about the latest indiscretion of some senator -
|
|
something about legislating personal profits. Glancing around
|
|
the room, Rico noticed the few who were there hiding behind their
|
|
tear-sheets - the stigma of selling your blood would probably never be
|
|
extinguished, there is just something primal and slightly unpleasant
|
|
associated with the practice.
|
|
After twenty minutes or so, another nurse appeared and called out
|
|
Rico's name. Still relieved at making the weight, Rico preferred not to
|
|
think about the needle, the big one they use for the procedure. Following
|
|
the nurse into the "big room", Rico mentally prepared himself for the next
|
|
steps in the process. Blood pressure, pulse, the sample drawn from a finger.
|
|
Easing himself into the Barcolounger, Rico began his habitual practice of
|
|
"anywhere but here", a personal form of meditation he used to block out the
|
|
sensation of pain as they slip the needle into a vein.
|
|
The nurse, interpreting Rico's disassociation as fear, attempted to
|
|
draw him out. Adopting that "nursy" tone she said, "this will only hurt
|
|
for a second", and with that she sank the spike.
|
|
Despite his attempt to remain in a momentary fugue, Rico sensed
|
|
there was a problem - it was taking too long. Looking down at his arm
|
|
as if it were someone else's, Rico watched the nurse manipulate the
|
|
needle, trying to find the vein. She was rapidly losing her professional
|
|
demeanor, panic had clearly set in, and it was catching. Adrenaline
|
|
began to flood Rico's body as the nurse pulled the needle out.
|
|
The nurse, shaken by her apparent failure, looked at Rico and said,
|
|
"I'll be right back". She nearly tripped fleeing Rico's side, beating a
|
|
path to the office in the corner. Momentarily, she returned with what must
|
|
have been her supervisor. The "head nurse" gave Rico one of her best smiles
|
|
and told him, "I'm afraid if we try that again, we'll collapse the
|
|
vein".
|
|
"Collapse the vein", what the hell did that mean? Rico thought
|
|
about asking, then decided not to.
|
|
The nurses began to move the blood-bags over to the other side of
|
|
his lounger and the head nurse told Rico, "we're going to try again with
|
|
your other arm". At least the first nurse had regained her composure -
|
|
apparently the problem was due to Rico's vein, not her technique.
|
|
Rico didn't share her relief, however, he was stuck on the concept
|
|
"collapsed vein".
|
|
Reflexively, Rico began his "meditation", preferring not to pay
|
|
attention to what the nurses were doing. He'd never been stuck in the
|
|
left arm, and wasn't relishing the thought. Once again, the first nurse
|
|
sensed his withdrawal and tried to break his concentration - "are you
|
|
feeling okay?". Rico's first impulse was to give her a brutally honest
|
|
response (would I be here in the first place...), but he just smiled and
|
|
said, "yeah, I think so".
|
|
Reassured, the nurse prepped his other arm: asking him to flex his
|
|
muscles, applying the antiseptic, looking for the vein. Rico thought
|
|
about Lowell for some reason, he didn't know exactly why, just a
|
|
recurring wave of resentment. Finally, the nurse tried to insert the needle.
|
|
Rico felt the familiar pinched sensation of the flesh giving way to steel
|
|
and tried to ignore it. He found that experiencing a familiar pain in a new
|
|
place was unsettling - his concentration broke. The pain immediately felt
|
|
different somehow, and when he looked at the nurse, he saw the same
|
|
panicked look as before.
|
|
"Problem?" he asked. The nurse, without looking up, said, "I think
|
|
so, I can't seem to find this vein either".
|
|
The head nurse took the other's place and attempted to sink the
|
|
spike. Tapping on his arm and narrowing her eyes, she renewed the attack
|
|
on Rico's left arm. She glanced up at the first nurse and said, "Get
|
|
some ice packs, he's done".
|
|
At this, Rico felt his world (and his stomach) closing in upon
|
|
themselves. Done. Let go. Fired. The perennial judgement of the world.
|
|
Somehow he had managed to screw even this up. After being rejected by
|
|
the vampires, where do you go?
|
|
The nurse tilted his lounge back and placed some ice-packs on his
|
|
chest - "one of our doctors is going to take a look at you before you
|
|
leave, just to make sure you're okay".
|
|
Shock takes many forms: physically, Rico would recover from the
|
|
small holes and insulted veins; psychically, no one recovers from total
|
|
personal devaluation.
|
|
They bandaged his arms and sent Rico home with the last of the
|
|
Plasma money he would ever earn. Or ever need.
|
|
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
|
|
/------------\
|
|
|The Final Word|
|
|
\------------/
|
|
|
|
After reading this issue I realized that the stories contained with
|
|
in have very strong undertones of death and destruction. One must realize
|
|
that these stories, poems, ect. were written during finals week and I
|
|
guess someone just had to die.
|
|
We here at ICS sometimes get a bit busy and once in a blue moon
|
|
something gets by our meticulous editing staff. We here at ICS would like
|
|
to apologize for one such incident. The First Opinion in Issue 7-1 by Ted
|
|
Sanders generated a lot of response. We thank those who responded and we will
|
|
print some of the more intelligent and humorous responses.
|
|
Ted Sanders has left ICS in order to explore the "Real World". We wish
|
|
him luck at whatever he does. We now have a new Managing Editor, Steven
|
|
Peterson has taken an important post and so far has done a remarkable job.
|
|
He will start doing the first and final words as well as other things.
|
|
Deva Winblood is back with a vengence and while helping us with our
|
|
reorganization (he would also like to write some more Ask Deva columns).
|
|
However, he doesn't know what you want to hear about. So, if you have any
|
|
question on the net, computers, or the meaning of life please E-mail them to
|
|
us and I'll make sure Deva answers them.
|
|
This final bit is a welcome and a thank you to our readers. We want to
|
|
welcome all our new subscribers. Believe me there were a lot of you, and
|
|
we're glad to have you aboard. I would also like to thank all the people
|
|
who sent in submissions during the last two weeks. I promise that we will
|
|
print them as soon as my new managing editor gets a chance to look at them.
|
|
Please keep the submissions coming. The quality is great as is the gratitude
|
|
from our frail writers.
|
|
Enjoy your week, and as usual, we will graciously accept all flames,
|
|
comments, or other material right here at ORG_ZINE@WSC.COLORADO.EDU
|
|
Sincerely,
|
|
rApIeR
|
|
(Technical Director)
|
|
|
|
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
|
|
ICS would like to hear from you. We accept flames, comments,
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|
submissions, editorials, corrections, and just about anything else you
|
|
wish to send us. For your safety use these guidelines when sending us
|
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anything. We will use things sent to us when we think the would be
|
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appropriate for the goal of the issue coming out. So, if you send us
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something that you DO NOT want us to use in the electrozine, then put
|
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the words NOT FOR PUBLICATION in the subject of the mail you send us.
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You can protect your material by sending a copy to yourself
|
|
through the mail and leaving the envelope unopened.
|
|
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
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BACK ISSUES: Back Issues of ICS can be FTPed from ETEXT.ARCHIVE.UMICH.EDU
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They are in the directory /pub/Politics/ICS.
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ICSICSICSICSICSICSI/ \ICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSI
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CSICSICSICSICSICSI/ \CSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSI
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ICSICSICSICSICSIC/ I C S \ICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSIC
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ICSICSICSICSICS/ Electro- \ICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICS
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CSICSICSICSICS/ Zine \CSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICSICS
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\ /
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\ /
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\ /
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\ / An Electronic Magazine from
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\ / Western State College
|
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\ / ORG_ZINE@WSC.COLORADO.EDU
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