linuxmafia.com 2016/linuxmafia.com.tar/linuxmafia.com/pub/humour/commodore-echo

INI File | 1998-07-26 | 13KB | 281 lines

[Extracted from....]


F I D O  N E W S --         |        Vol. 8 No. 24 (17 June 1991)
  The newsletter of the     |
  FidoNet BBS community     |        Published by:
          _                 |
         /  \               |       "FidoNews" BBS
        /|oo \              |          (415)-863-2739
       (_|  /_)             |          FidoNet 1:1/1
        _`@/_ \    _        |          Internet:
       |     | \   \\       |           [e-mail]
       | (*) |  \   ))      |
       |__U__| /  \//       |        Editors:
        _//|| _\   /        |          Tom Jennings
       (_/(_|(____/         |          Tim Pozar
             (jm)           |
----------------------------+---------------------------------------
Published weekly by and for the Members of the FidoNet international
amateur network. Copyright 1991, Fido Software. All rights reserved.
Duplication and/or distribution permitted for noncommercial purposes
only. For use in other circumstances, please contact FidoNews.

Paper price:   . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . $5.00US
Electronic Price:  . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .  free!

For more information about FidoNews refer to the end of this file.
--------------------------------------------------------------------


                          Table of Contents
1. EDITORIAL  .....................................................  1
   A smorgasbord of possibilities  ................................  1
2. FIDONET NEWS  ..................................................  6
3. ARTICLES  ...................................................... 12
   The 2nd Asian BBS Sysops' Conference in Taipei, 1991  .......... 12
   By Vince...and Thanks  ......................................... 14
   Who *are* these guys?  ......................................... 16
   Public Key Encryption Standard Anyone?  ........................ 20
   Message Master - a Classic Window's Message Editor  ............ 21
   SIGN FRIENDS PROGRAM-New Version Released  ..................... 22
   WorldCon 1991 Important Announcement  .......................... 23
   A Draft Elections Policy  ...................................... 32
   A Word from the Bible - The Re-Birth of Water IS Baptism  ...... 35
4. RANTS AND FLAMES  .............................................. 38
   Fidocult: Occult Mania Hits FidoNews  .......................... 38
   Speaking In Verse:  Desired Editorial Policy for FNews  ........ 39
5. CLASSIFIEDS  ................................................... 42
6. NOTICES  ....................................................... 43
   The Interrupt Stack  ........................................... 44
7. LATEST VERSIONS  ............................................... 46
   Latest Software Versions  ...................................... 46

[The bulk of the above-described material has been deleted.]



Who *are* these guys?
Another Cautionary tale by
Charles Herriot (1:163/110)

(Special Note to Editor-Being:

 This article has absolutely nothing to do with Crunch 'N Munch,
 God, or the ruinously high cost of Jolt. For those who
 wish to benefit from the full effect of this article;
 either play sappy violin music as you read about the
 pathetic demise of the COMMODORE echo; or else put Ina
 Gada Da Vida on autorepeat on your CD player. There is
 little in this article that would give a Technoid wet
 dreams. Roll da flick, Tom.)


Corresponding from a secure hiding place deep within the uncharted
recesses of Policy3 and Policy4, "Doc Logger" lashes another missive
into the jaws of the high speed paper tape punch and then throws
untold thousands of toggle switches to get the Imsai 8080 to
transmit to Visage's Church of The Dayglo Black Velvet Paintings.



Dear Reverend Visage,

Your secretary is shrieking at me concerning the small
problem with the Porsche we borrowed to deliver last night's
echomail. How were we supposed to know that the drawbridge
was up and that we would land six counties away in the
middle of a sheep pasture? I hate to tell you this, but
she's gonna be in a king hell rage when you show up again
with lanolin on your breath.


I'm sure you can remember the movie "Butch Cassidy And The
Sundance Kid". I have been reminded of that movie in the
recent past concerning the sad plight of the Commode D'Or
echo. As Butch & Sundance traversed sagebrush and mountains
they were pursued relentlessly, and they kept asking each
other: "Who *are* those guys?".

As you are well aware, we've made a few underestimations in
our time, not the least of which was the time you bet almost
our entire stuffed armadillo collection on the recent ZEC
election, but I don't think we missed hearing the speeding
train as badly as we did when the California Spam 'N Timmies
invaded the Commode D'Or echo.

Okay, so maybe using an areatag name like COMMODORE in
recognition of the fact that the afformentioned piece of
hardware was adopted as our mascot and is also the boat
anchor of serious sport fisherman everywhere. And maybe,
just maybe, if we'd been firmer with the mongol hordes who
descended on the echo and attempted to talk techie to us...
perhaps we wouldn't be in serious echomail withdrawal at the
moment.

Perhaps I wasn't paying as much attention to the messages as
I should have... and this has almost nothing at all to do
with the fact that I played AC/DC's "Thunderstruck" on the
other serial channel as I patiently waited for the cassette
deck to load the echomail into my trailing-edge technology
BBS running on the Sinclair ZX81. I saw the first couple of
messages and pondered to myself: "Who *are* these guys?" and
left it at that.

When was it that we started the Commode D'Or echo? It must
have been at least four years ago and possibly longer
because I recall you foolishly losing our entire dental
floss ranch on a silly bet concerning the longevity of disco
music. We started the echo as a local effort so that we
could discuss the more serious issues facing computer users
in the frozen tundra... the high cost of whale blubber to
keep the hard drives lubricated was a frequent topic of
debate. The echo gained a loyal following and by some act of
NEC/REC magic it found it's way onto the International
Backbone.

Nine months after the echo was placed on the backbone, the
very first non-local message arrived. It was from some guy
in New Jersey who quoted *everything* and appended very
little of his own. Remember how riled he got when it was
suggested that he book into the Betty Ford Clinic For The
Criminally Uninspired to cure his rampant Quotaholism? In no
time, he had marshalled more of his buddies to join the echo
and, again, I asked myself: "Who *are* these guys?"

As politely as we could, we pointed the New Jersoids to the
CBM echo where *serious* Commodore techies could do whatever
it is that consenting Commodore users do... and I really
don't wanna know. We could tell they were a repressed and
unhappy bunch when they chose to disbelieve us when we
mentioned that most of our echomail traffic was carried by
dog-teams across the frozen ice-flows.

The Commode D'Or echo took on a special meaning when one of
our parka pals actually operated a Fidonet BBS (163/227) on
his C128, using software written by himself in Basic. (Basic
is a programming language preferred by C programmers who
have learned how to count, and thus don't get confused by
line numbers...ahem.) Even Nanook's pet seal clapped her
flippers in admiration that a C128 could be browbeaten into
Fidonet mailer compliancy.

Alas (please note: not "a lass"), the universe never seems
to unfold as it should and the echo was soon invaded by the
California Spam 'N Timmies. These new participants in the
echo, if they had any reading comprehension at all, quickly
announced that it was a "Commodore" echo.

"No. No." we said "Commode D'Or... Commode D'Or... as in
Golden Toilet." but they wouldn't listen. The reared up on
thier hindpaws and *demanded* that we cease talking about
'frivolous' things immediately, or else. Now up here in the
frozen north we've always been a friendly bunch and willing
to accomodate almost anyone. (Tell Nanook that I'll return
his wife later this week.) We figured that the California
Spam 'N Timmies bunch could co-exist in the echo with us.
We'd ignore their techie-talk, and they could ignore our
exchanges about edible underwear, Caribou migrations, and
the occasional C128 Fidonet mailer test message.

One fellow, who was linked into the net via one of the
gateways, announced that he would either change the echo, or
destroy it. As usual, we didn't take him all that seriously
since he kept signing his name by appending "President,
Commodore User's Club". I mean really, a Commodore User's
Club... it is to snicker. What we missed in our good hearted
attempts to humour these fire-breathing intruders, was that
Commodore users are probably the larval stage of Amiga
users. You *know* how touchy the Amagatroids are about their
toy computers.

I guess it must have been Nanook who suggested that they
either needed to have more fibre in their diet, or at least
to get out and play on the freeway more often. Remember how
excitable everyone got that time you brought your pet skunk
to the wedding reception? Well, this situation wasn't much
different. The California Spam 'N Timmies went
hypercritical. We're talkin' major modem meltdown here. One
of them, in an effort to show us what *real* Commodore
messages looked like, cross-posted about 50 messages from
the CBM echo and then proceeded to use some words that had
something to do with an act of self-procreation. Another one
of them, a fellow who identified himself as the NC of a
Fidonet BBS, keep bleating for a ruling from the moderator.

I spoke to the moderator and his response was as laid back
as could be expected from someone whose front lawn is
covered with snow for 11 1/2 months of the year. "No
problem" he said, "The dweebs who are whining all live in
California. We'll just be patient and let continental drift
take care of them." It seemed like a wise course of action,
and hey, if an earthquake took them out earlier then that
was all the better. In an effort to make them feel welcome I
participated in their new game of cross-posting messages.
The one I chose happened to be about a yuppie-babe on a date
with some vegetables.... a completely on topic and
appropriate message for the Commode D'Or echo.

I have no idea why a paragraph such as:

 "She poured a small splash of Genadine into the juicer
followed by an over-ample dash of white rum. The pineapples
which had rested upon smooth linen napkins winked up at her.
She grasped a cherry by it's stem and gently teased the seed
from it's depths with her tongue. Using both hands, she
plunged the cherry pitter deep into a second cherry and
carefully allowed the juices to run across her wrist before
she raised her arm and sucked the delicate drops."

... could cause these people to be driven to near-apoplexy.
As they went variously insane, they also netmailed all parts
of the known Fidonet admin structure with whimpers of
outrage. I don't know about you Visage, but it strikes me
that these people must have suffered horribly as children by
being forced to remain at the supper table until they'd
finished all their vegetables. Faster than you could say
"There's a skunk in the fridge", incoming WhineMail(tm) from
*serious* *C-beings was filling my netmail directory.

"Excuse me?" I rejoined, "You want to do what?" I asked
incredulously. "You want all of us who have fun in the
Commode D'Or echo to desist?" And just for old times sake, I
asked myself: "Who *are* these guys?" I didn't worry all
that much because as far as I knew at the time, no *EC in
his right mind would blunder into an echo and try to enforce
content rules, particularly since we were breaking no laws.

But, and you'll be amazed by this, those *EC-beings have
suddenly gotten religion in a major way. So much religion,
in fact, that godlike powers have descended upon their able
shoulders. Some of them, and this would have *really*
impressed the crowds a coupla thousand years ago, some of
them can actually walk and chew gum at the same time. I
know, I know... we couldn't really expect any *ECs to read
the echo which they were poised to incinerate... the
comprehension levels alone would have precluded that, but
surely one of them could have asked a few questions of us?

Without the courtesy of a message entered in the echo
telling us, the echo was taken out behind the ZEC's computer
and quietly garrotted. They didn't even return the corpse
for a decent burial. I don't really fault the *EC-beings,
they're as likely to join a lynch mob as any other mortal,
but the people I just cannot understand, are the ones who
rode into the echo with their Policy4 Six-guns blazing for
no real purpose. So I guess, if I were to ask myself again,
"Who *are* these guys?", I'd have to respond that they are
humourlous savages... more inclined to destroy than to
create. They're the pioneers of a new era and their
Policy-legimitimized thuggery is making a real mess of
FidoNet.

I must go, Visage. I was due at the studio an hour ago.
"Dread Zeppelin" is doing a reggae version of "Baa Baa Black
Sheep" and I've been hired to play the tuba solo.

Regards,

Doc Logger