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BTN: Birmingham Telecommunications News COPYRIGHT 1990 May 1990 Volume 3, Issue 4 Table Of Contents ----------------- Article Title Author Policy Statement and Disclaimer................Staff Editorial Column...............................Dean Costello Another BTN Party..............................Jet Thomas WWIV: Part 1 of ???...........................Duck Capps Conversational Telecommunicating...............Tyros BTN Party Questionnaire Results................Chris Mohney Gamer's Corner: Welltris......................Eric Hunt Gamer's Corner: Catch'em......................Dean Costello Ode To A Friend Of Mine........................Lisa Straughn Profile: Kristina Morros & Marie Huffstutler...Chris Mohney Known BBS Numbers..............................Staff EzNet Multiple Echo List.......................Staff ----------------------------------------------------------------------- Disclaimer and Statement of Policy for BTN We at BTN try our best to assure the accuracy of articles and information in our publication. We assume no responsibility for damage due to errors, omissions, etc. The liability,if any for BTN, its editors and writers, for damages relating to any errors or omissions, etc., shall be limited to the cost of a one year subscription to BTN, even if BTN, its editors or writers have been advised of the likelihood of such damages occurring. With the conclusion of that nasty business, we can get on with our policy for publication and reproduction of BTN articles. We publish monthly with a deadline of the fifteenth of the month prior to publication. If you wish to submit an article, you may do so at any time but bear in mind the deadline if you wish for your work to appear in a particular issue. It is not our purpose to slander or otherwise harm a person or reputation and we accept no responsibility for the content of the articles prepared by our writers. Our writers own their work and it is protected by copyright. We allow reprinting of articles from BTN with only a few restrictions. The author may object to a reprint, in which case he will specify in the content of his article. Otherwise, please feel free to reproduce any article from BTN as long as the source, BTN, is specified, and as long as the author's name and the article's original title are retained. If you use one of our articles, please forward a copy of your publication to: Mark Maisel Editor, BTN 221 Chestnut St. BHM, AL 35210-3219 We thank you for taking the time to read our offering and we hope that you like it. We also reserve the right to have a good time while doing all of this and not get too serious about it. ----------------------------------------------------------------------- N E W S F L A S H For those of you who read BTN regularly, please pay attention! Several boards in town that maintain transfer ratios allow BTN to be downloaded freely through ProDoor. You may download BTN from these boards without penalty to your ratio. Among these that I am aware of are CONNECTION, LZ BIRMINGHAM, and CHANNEL 8250. I am sure that there are more of them out there. If you are a sysop and you allow BTN to be downloaded freely, please let me know via EzNet so that I can post your board as a free BTN distributor. Thanks. I am also looking for a new, more useful format for the Known BBS List. Please send me your suggestions via EzNet or upload them to Channel 8250, Bus, or Crunchy Frog. The best way to demonstrate a suggestion would be to edit the bbs list in this issue and show how you want it to look. Should there be more WWIV info, PC Board info, FidoNet info, other networks and/or systems info??? Remember, I can't do it if you don't suggest it. I gave up telepathy a few years ago. MM ----------------------------------------------------------------------- Well, Now What? Yeah! It's another article by me. I trust you are so happy and overjoyed that you can hardly contain yourself. Same to you. Anyway, now is the time that I need to think of something to write. Yes, Mark and Kathy took me out to dinner again, and now it is time to extract the proper two or three screens of flesh. So, let's see what is happening in the telecomputing world right now. Well, Tyros has a real computer for a change; Randy and Rocky's MetroNet seems to be working fairly well (Always remember: A national echo is a terrible thing to waste); and there seems to be another party coming up on the horizon (April 21st in case you haven't seen announcements); and this is the... SECOND ANNUAL BTN ANNIVERSARY! Yeeeeaaaaahhhah, buddy. We are starting on our third year of this august and respectful periodical, the one that allowed me to get my name in print. Imagine, the third year of this nonsense. Absolute proof that there cannot be a God; or that there is a God, and she/he doesn't like me very much. Figure though, what were you doing in April of 1988? I personally was still working for Perdue, Inc. as a lab technician at their oil refinery, hoping and praying that the job would come to an end and I could go to graduate school. And you? Are you still doing the same thing that you were two years ago? Now, who needs to 'get a life'? At least I AM in graduate school, doing something completely different. Yeah, you see how much work I am doing for my degree, don't you? I should be at the apartment right now doing Important And Scientific Things to my data, but I'm not. I am instead trying to pump out this screed on BTN, one more time. If nothing else, I do like these editorials better than real articles. Where else can I rant for this long about something or another; whatever subject that catches my imagination at a particular time; and still get credit for it from Mark? And believe me, he does keep track of who writes and who said that they would write, and who didn't follow through... I have found that when all is said and done, it is probably more advantageous to be on the positive side of Mark than on the negative side. Look at it from my point of view? I have all these neat little do-hickies that I have picked up from over there, dinners beyond counting, and a release of sexual tension with his wife. What more can a simple person such as myself want? That's right, not a whole lot more. So to recap, Tyros has a computer, MetroNet is neat, there is a party coming up on the 21st, it is the beginning of the third year of BTN publications, and you need to get a life. Hope to see a couple of you (not all, mind you, just a couple here and there. The ones I want to see probably already know who they are, the rest need not even come if they have something else to do that night) at the party. Sincerely Yours, __ __ / ) / ) / / _ __. ____ / /__/_</_(_/|_/ / < (__/ o Dean C. Editor-at-Large editor's note: Is that "Editor-at-Large" or "Large-Editor"? MM Take 2 <snap>. Well, guess who missed a deadline. Yes, Mark screwed up here. He went and blew off April. So, the entire above screed is really all for naught. Annoying trait. Anyway, Now I need to think of something else clever and neat to write about. It is the night before the BTN party, in which a whole pile of people have planned to attend. I am personally kind of curious as to who will actually drop by. Claims and actuality are all too often two entirely different things. I honestly don't know what we are going to do with Mark. To paraphrase Bill Cosby, the boy needs help. But who am I to say anything, you ask. Which is indeed an entirely correct attitude to have, if you think about it for a minute. Let us look at my record when it comes to my research. 1). It is October, 89. My advisor, John Manning, says that there is an chance of me being able to finish before the end of the fall quarter. And if not by then, then definitely by the first of the year. Maggie says nice things about missing me. Others either ignore it completely, or say such pleasant things like it will be such a nice place with me gone. Come to find out, I had to start the entire sequence over when my bacteria died, and the methyl parathion plant burned down. 2). It is February, 90. It is said that I could very easily be done by midterms. So I only take 3 credit hours of research so that I can be at least a part time student. Mark starts making jokes about how Scott Hollifield is his dupe in a strange and curious plan to wreck my experiment. 3). It is March, 90. It is said that I could very easily be done by the end of Winter quarter. Jokes about my ever completing begin to surface in EZNet. Scorn and derision are heaped upon me, and Doug Reinsch brings me a clipping that said that Mobile Bay froze over. 4). It is now. My advisor says that the research is coming along nicely, and that there is finally light at the end of the tunnel. I get turned down in my sole interview as of yet. Life is really starting to suck, especially with the weather getting hotter. Not really important, but I seem to have missed a few deadlines also, as I look back on it. But that does not take Mark off the hook. So he had some things to do during the first week of April. BFD. We are not all that impressed. Busy was me at the end of Winter Quarter 1989, when I had 4 finals, 2 papers, 2 presentations, a car accident, and knee surgery. Now that is a full week, and don't you forget it. And he thinks that changing careers is a proper excuse for...Where was I? Oh yes, why there wasn't an April BTN. Alas, one of those things, I suppose. What's the point of bitching about it, when you get right down to it? No one is going to die if one of these things doesn't hit the BBSs on time. Hell, I only read them because of my articles (and articles with me in them, for that matter). Mental masturbation, I suppose. And I want as many people as possible to watch (read) as I get off. So I suppose I am personally annoyed that I won't get another issue to jack off in, but those are the problems of life. I believe it was brother Mick who said, "You can't always get what you want, but if you try sometime you might find that you get what you need." I would assume that this will probably be the last issue of BTN I will be writing for, so I intend to wax philosophical about it. And as a result, I will take this as far as is possible. I was just thinking about the way I write these damned things. I am sitting in Mark's back room, where it is about 14 degrees hotter than body temperature, banging this puppy out. Did I have any idea as to what I was going to write? Not hardly. In fact, it is a constant struggle to keep going from text line to text line, and yet keep some semblance of continuity going. Something else that had occurred to me was that it seems that my shock value is gone. I can say the most sensational, most outrageous, the most sick things, and no one will even bat an eye anymore. It is getting frustrating, to say the least. But unfortunately, when I am being more or less straight about things, no one is taking me seriously. For example, it occurred to me that Jesus was probably a member of the Zealots, and that to make the group look like it was sanctioned by God, they set up Jesus as a martyr after he got caught in the Temple doing naughty things to the local vendors. Now, no one would argue the point with me. I still feel to this day that it is a viable, logical argument that explains the creation of Christianity without resorting to a deity. And No One Would Argue It. I have always felt that ignoring something is tacit approval, which is why you see me get worked up about very marginal, very superficial issues <shut the hell up, Mark>. Now, have a whole bunch of people on Bill Freeman's board all given up their Christianity and decided that I held the key of knowledge that they all have been looking for? Hell no, they just assumed it was me just spouting off something again as I try to get a rise out of them (coincidentally, this was the week of Easter, but it was not intended that way). Very frustrating; especially if one deals with a lot of topics that are controversial. It is kind of sad to know that there is no way in hell that I will even again be voted Most Favorite User in Birmingham. I feel kind of like Morton Downey Jr., in that my escapades no longer stir emotions as much as are just kind of tolerated and then ignored. But I can always depend on Mark K. to call me a loser (even when it takes two to exchange nasty messages, right Richard, Doug, and Mark M?). Take 3 <snap> It is now after the party. This issue still hasn't gone to the metaphorical press. And accordingly, I need to update once again. The party was a couple of days ago, and it seems to have gone fairly well. At least, that is the way I perceived it. And as you will soon find out, Jet Thomas didn't quite perceive things the way I did. But, I am not allowed to continue on this vein, so I am going to stop now. So, let's see what else I need to talk about. I discovered FIDONet a couple of days ago. There is a good conference there, called Science, that I have taken a liking to. I am impressed. I heartily recommend that you use it if you have an interest in science. In the couple of days I have been involved, the discussion has ranged from UFOs to Creationism to alternative energies to the Cold Fusion experiments. A fairly wide-ranging discussion set. Mark really needs to cut the grass in his side yard, but I suppose that is neither here nor there. Can't hardly blame him, though, with all the Milky Way candy bars that are out in the yard, you know. It was a function of the party, but I can't talk about it right now, for the reasons mentioned above. I would like to take this opportunity to protest the crappy way I was treated at the party. When I was torn up (from a combination of Joey I, II, and IIIs), they, about 9 different sysops, tried to get me to do a strip tease. Yeah, that's right. Appalling, isn't it? Anyway, they were willing to give me up to $4.07, a button, an option on another button, and a tie. And if I didn't, I would lose somewhere in the neighborhood of about 10-16 hours of daily access to the BBSs that I regularly call. In case you are curious, I call on a rigidly daily basis 5 boards (7.75 hours/day access time) and on at least a weekly basis, another boards (10.5 hours/day access time). And they had the gall to say to me "Get a life"? If all they have to do is to pick on some poor drunk party goer, I think that says an awful lot more about them than the time says about me. But nonetheless, it has been an interesting time here on the BBSs in Birmingham. Without you, I would have long since slit my wrists. Especially last summer. Since this is probably the proverbial 'It' for my writing here, there are some I would like to mention. I have met some nice people including Randy (Dammit, 2.5 hours is NOT enough), Chris (I still can't believe that you liked tequila & ginger ale), Maggie (My 'Outrageousness Meter', but I am not going to strip for you, no matter how sadly you look at me), Scott (But, will I be voted "Most Favorite User" next year...), Chris (Praise "Bob" and pass the camcorder) and Kathy (Oh, please? It is only for effect, you know); a few normals such as Doug (The Censor King), Velina (Maybe henna WILL do the trick, it sure can't hurt...), Tamara (I still think the accent is on the wrong syllable), Karsten (You're who? Nah...), Kelly (Why are you hitting me?), Rocky (The Discordian Connection), Terry (The Discordian), Dave (The Disciple), Jeff (But why an entire box? Are they rotten?), Brett (You are way too sensitive about the South), and Kristina (And don't forget that 'K', dammit, but first, can I ask you a personal question?); plus some just plain warped individuals, ie. Jet (Well, right! Right! Well, no!), and Mark. It was also neat to listen to everyone else's ludicrous ideas about society. It is sad that you are wrong, but alas, such is life. There is really little else left to say. I appreciate the friendship and the tolerance many of you have extended this poor graduate student. I like to think I reciprocated in kind; in my own way. Farewell, my friends. May you survive. ----------------------------------------------------------------------- Another BTN Party by Jet Thomas Mark Maisel asked me to write about what happened at the BTN party. I don't know about most of it, of course, since I only got to watch what was going on in front of my eyes, and I don't have room to write all of that. I really enjoyed the party. It gave me an opportunity to push my new C&C game, and I learned more about human nature in late 20th century America than I had at any previous party. I brought some friends, Bruce Oliver and his girlfriend Chris. Both of them have computers but neither have gotten modems yet. Bruce stayed in the computer room for a while, and when he came out he said, "I sat in there for half an hour and I never heard a complete sentence I could understand." I showed people copies of the C&C game rules. I concentrated on getting copies to women, since the women tend to be more conservative, and there was no point in getting men interested if their wives or girlfriends refused to play. The response was better than I hoped, only 3 outright no's (including 2 who wouldn't look at it, who might change their minds someday), 2 conditional no's (they said, "Yes, that looks really interesting and we really ought to try it someday," which is a polite way to say no) 5 conditional yeses (they seemed really interested and talked about it to each other) and 2 outright yeses (they told their boyfriends somebody else would play if the boyfriends wouldn't; these women were serious). I'll upload the men's manual under the name CONIND.TXT, on various boards. Mark Maisel wore a special necktie. It was salmon pink, except at the knot where it was a sort of matted brown. The end wasn't cut like most neckties, but had a sort of rounded, sigmoid shape. It looked kind of peculiar seeing Mark barefoot wearing a necktie. It was a symbolic thing, the necktie represented a circumcised penis. I had read that all neckties had similar symbolism, but I had never seen one so blatant. Late in the evening I noticed various women wearing Mark's tie; I didn't ask them how they got it. I listened to various people. Brett Thorn was his usual superior self. He went around with a little smile, like he understood everything that was going on but there wasn't anything worth participating in. He's smarter than I am and much better acculturated, but it seems like it still doesn't get him what he wants. I discussed the new RTX chip with Blake Miller. Blake is handsome, suave, brainy, and apparently totally competent at everything he does, but he didn't have much to say. I talked with Sid and Michelle Browning. They seemed to be new to the boards, and were acting like they felt like strangers at the party. I had a lot of trouble remembering their names, and eventually set up mnemonics, but I forgot the mnemonic for his. They seemed like nice people. Doug and Velina Reinsch were there. Velina had a hairstyle and a sort of face-set that made her look middle-aged and dull. I knew from that, that she had a responsible job. She looked like a dentist's assistant or a librarian, the sort of person that you want to assume is totally competent at doing things by the book, and utterly unimaginative. I was AMAZED that Velina could achieve this sort of protective coloration. She isn't like that at all. It was an interesting twist for her to come to the party in disguise. There was a little girl about Sarah Maisel's size who stood in the kitchen doorway working on a tantrum. When asked, she came out of it enough to explain that her mother had told her she couldn't play with the other kids because she was bad. We played with Mark's synthesizer for a while, but her mother came in and told her to stop. Kelly Rosato started hitting me gently behind the knee or on the temporalis when he walked by. After a while I asked him why, and he said he liked to see me jump. Pretty often little social problems clear up if you talk about them. I thought he maybe didn't like me or wanted to threaten me, but he was just having fun. I started doing the same to him, and he asked me about it. Then we both slacked off, and pretty much quit. I made sure he got the last lick. It's easier for people to make social agreements when they're winning, and it didn't cost me anything. I don't know what Kelly will do the first time we meet after he reads this, though. It's easy for unstated social agreements to break down when people talk about them. It's like people can tentatively provisionally behave in an agreeable way, but when they find out the other person is thinking about it differently from them, suddenly the question isn't what to do, but what it all means and what it "really" means to the other person, and people find themselves making points that would be totally unnecessary if they had no idea what the other guy was thinking and didn't care. Oh well. I carried the girl-who-couldn't-play-with-the-others piggyback, but her mother made her quit that too. She had been bad, so she couldn't have any fun the whole weekend. That was strange, how do you stop somebody from having fun? If they're sitting quietly by themselves, how do you know if they're having fun or not? Riddle: How can you keep a mathematician from having fun? Answer: Sit behind him with a big stick and hit him every now and then. But the kid was buying into it, she believed she couldn't have any fun. Chris Mohney would say she didn't have any slack. I talked to the mother, who reminded me of a bobcat. Small, sort of friendly, but utterly ferocious. I talked with Mitch White, who seemed very wise. But afterward I couldn't remember what he'd said. I hope I incorporated his comments into my own thinking. But all I remember in context are his criticisms of what I said. Jeff had brought a giant box of candy bars, things that had just expired at the place he worked. I ate a lot of them and drank some Pepsi. I started getting high. Some other people were drinking things that smelled like spoiled orange juice, and rotten apples, and juniper berries. And beer, of course. It seemed like over the evening people had less and less to say, but they said it with more and more intensity. People I talked with late in the evening seemed like simpler people than the ones I met earlier. They had been degraded (that's what degradation means -- to break up into simpler pieces) but they didn't seem to mind much. I played some with the bobcat's son. He hit me a couple of times, once in the Adam's apple, but when I distracted him quickly, he got real happy,began to have fun and quit hitting. I've noticed sometimes the same method works with angry people who have guns, but it isn't the sort of thing you want to depend on. Some of the women asked me when we'd play the C&C game. I explained that it needed a hostess, and Mark had volunteered Kathy for the job, but Kathy kept putting him off. Nobody volunteered on the spot, but several women took home copies of the Hostess's Manual, so with luck it will happen fairly soon. Chris Mohney had a questionnaire with really goofy questions. I liked it. I was a little concerned about it in a superstitious way, though. The ancient Israelites used to take their censuses just before the plagues, and we've had things like that with the BTN surveys, too. The Connection was voted worst BBS just before its big surge in popularity. Dean Costello was voted Most Popular User just before he showed everybody how bigoted he was about the South. What will change after Chris's questionnaire? Randy asked me about a message I didn't leave on his board. I'd announced that I wouldn't respond to any more idiots on a particular political topic. Then he answered one of my messages and I didn't respond. Was he one of the idiots? I tried to explain what I'd meant, which was completely different, and in the back of my mind a new idea was forming. What happens if you tell somebody you won't leave him any more messages because he's an idiot, and then you don't leave him any more messages no matter what he does? You've insulted him worse than the most insulting message you could leave! Because the long strings of messages, even the "you idiot" messages, are a form of social agreement!! You're telling him he's worth talking to, that his opinion matters!!! Even if you utterly disagree with everything he says!!!! It's a peculiar form of friendship. But when you ignore him, you're telling him he's really an idiot. He might believe it's because you aren't logical enough to argue with him, but that's not what you're telling him. But the method doesn't always work. I suddenly realized that nearly a quarter of the people on Randy's MetroNet Current conference had left me such messages and then ignored me, and I hadn't noticed. Because I was looking at the arguments and how they fit together, and ignoring questions of who "won". I'd expected that some guys would ask how to get into the C&C game, but nobody did. The answer would have been that they had to get a woman to invite them. The game hadn't even started yet and my social intuition was already proving very fallible.... The bobcat's husband came to the party late. His son ran to him joyfully and started hitting him. The father gave him a severe talking-to on his method of greeting. Some of the kids wanted to tell jokes, but when I heard their jokes I realized that I'd completely forgotten how to tell children's jokes. Their jokes didn't seem the least bit funny to me, and I figured they wouldn't get my jokes either. I shifted gears and tried to remember some grape jokes or elephant jokes, but I couldn't remember any. Then Velina told a Knock-Knock joke, and I found out I could make up those jokes pretty fast. Here's one: Knock-knock. Who's there? Boo. Boo who? Oh, I'm sorry you're so sad. And my very best one: Knock-knock. Who's there? Knock-knock. Who's there? Knock-knock. Who's there? You're supposed to say, "Knock-knock who?" Oh. Knock-knock. Who's there? Knock-knock. Knock-knock who? Knock-knock jokes don't have to make sense! It doesn't seem that funny now, but at the time it went over real well. Maybe you have to eat 10 or 15 candy bars first.... Ed O'Neill was playing a flirting game with Kristina from TOPS BBS. He'd pretend to grab her in a drunken embrace, and she'd scream and slip away, and she'd run off and ask somebody else to protect her. Then she'd look back at him and smile, and giggle, and when he came to her she'd scream and run away again. It's just like a game my guppies play. It looked like fun. "That looks like fun, may I play too?" She smiled and giggled. I gently tickled her flank. She screamed and ran, and got behind Dean Costello. That seemed really humorous, asking Dean to protect her from me seemed like a case of "out of the briar patch, into the frying pan". She played the game exactly the same way with me as she did with Ed. Except her screams seemed louder, her motions more jerky, her giggling more hysterical. She couldn't have had much to drink, she was so graceful. For that matter, Ed was pretty steady on his feet. She followed exactly the same flight path each time, which would have made her easy to intercept except according to the game I was supposed to follow the same path too. She got behind Chris Mohney and shrieked for him to protect her, but then darted back to Dean again. She rolled her eyes and gave some signs of distress. "Are you OK? Are you enjoying this?" "Stay away from me! Leave me alone!" She turned sideways and threw her shoulders back and took a deep breath. She turned her head away and looked at me sideways. She giggled and ran off. I'd seen this sort of thing before, although I'd never played it myself. The rule is that the woman can't admit she knows what she's doing. She seemed to be giving some mixed signals, though. Her screams sounded kind of sincere and she ran jerky, if slow. But when she stopped her smiles and giggles seemed sincere, too. Then suddenly she broke the pattern. She ran screaming into the house, calling for her friend Tamara to protect her. I walked after her and stopped 8 feet away. (For Americans the distance is supposed to be 6', but I'd approached a timid cat that morning and for cats it's 8'.) "You look like you want to quit the game. So why do you keep signaling that you want to keep playing?" "Stay away from me! Help! Everybody leave me alone!" "I'm over here I'm not getting any closer what's wrong?" She gave a long giggle that ended in a sort of sob. "I'm not giving any signals! I'm not doing anything! Just go away, don't talk to me!" I went away. Was it possible she didn't understand the game either? I hate games where people can't even discuss it afterward. She might not even know the signals that told us to keep playing, but she didn't want to be told about them. And I might have given wrong signals too, maybe I didn't smile enough or act drunk enough or something, and she wouldn't tell me about it. How do you get better when you can't see the results? Oh well. Chris and Tamara took her home. Somebody asked Ed if he was serious about catching her. He said something like, no, she was under the limit, he'd have had to throw her back. But he played with her anyway. "A man's gotta do what a man's gotta do." Lee Harden got to the party late and Maggie greeted him joyously. I didn't notice her hitting him, though. The people in the computer room kept playing games and looking at GIF files and talking about programs and protocols I'd never heard of. They played with Mark's peculiar disk drive, which sometimes grabs diskettes and won't let go. You have to reach your hand into its mouth and tickle it just so to get it to spit your diskette out. Kathy had hidden the Crunchy Frog keyboard, probably for security reasons. Somebody logged on and did a Page to get people to Chat with him. He knew the computer room would be full of people, but nobody would talk to him at all (not without the keyboard, they wouldn't). He started cursing them out at the Command Prompts. Later he came to the party and laughed with them about it. Lisa Patterson and her boyfriend spent most of the party out on the porch. They both looked like they could be fashion models. I didn't catch their names when they were introduced, but somebody told me Lisa's name later. I never got his name, everybody always referred to him as 'her boyfriend'. They drank tequila. By the time I talked with them their personalities had degraded pretty much. I didn't understand much of what they said, and I got the feeling it was mutual. Lisa said something I didn't understand that sounded something like: "When I was in high school I had to pretend to be a bubblehead when I was around my friends, or they wouldn't have anything to do with me. But I could be myself around my teachers." I tried to ask her why they were her friends if she couldn't be herself around them, but I couldn't get it across. It might not have had anything to do with what she really said. I was pretty wired by that time. I started thinking. A complex person can pretend to be simple, just like a sober person can pretend to be drunk. But a simple person can't successfully pose as complex, except to other simple people, just like a drunk has trouble posing as sober. On the other hand, a thin man can disguise himself as a fat man, but a fat man can't put on a thin disguise. Anybody should be able to pretend to be a bubblehead, but a bubblehead can't pose as anybody else. So -- and this is the important part -- if a computer nerd can't pose as a human being, does that mean he's less than a human being, or maybe just different? After all, humans can't pose as computer nerds, except to other humans. But clearly, a computer nerd who can convincingly act human, must be more than human. The Turing Test is truly appropriate here. I don't think any of this got across. I probably talked much too fast, and they were pretty simplified by that time. And like I said, I was wired. At 3 AM Kathy was lying on the floor resting. People kept wanting to answer the phone, which rang pretty often, and she kept telling them not to, and they kept not understanding. They were simplified to the point of answering phones by habit, and they didn't get the logic of it: Most of the people who'd call the Maisels at 3 AM are people you don't want to talk to. At 3:30 Richard Foshee came by with a pretty woman whose name I didn't catch. The party was mostly wound down by then. About 4 AM everybody who was awake went off to Denny's or some such place to eat. I went home. They locked the door, so anybody who got there later than that probably decided the party was over. ----------------------------------------------------------------------- WWIV: Part 1 of ?? By: Duck The Everpresent Co-Sysop: The Cathouse About three years ago, a new bulletin board system entered on the scene by the name of WWIV Net software. The first version was in Q-Basic, and wasn't really all that powerful. As time has passed and the versions have piled up, WWIV has become one of the most powerful pieces of BBS software available. It can be registered for a meager fee of $50.00, which entitles you to the source code and any new updates. You can also run it un-registered, but unless you know someone with the source code, you'll have to run it unmodified. The latest version is 4.10. During it's progression, WWIV has come to be programed in C, a diverse programming language. WWIV is easily modified, provided you have the source and the ability to program in C. If you can't program in C, there are many pre-made modifications that are available for download. In the next few articles, I will attempt to show off some of the unique feature of WWIV, as well as how to get around in the system. The first place to start is the logon sequence. When you log into a WWIV net system, you are greeted by a prompt asking if you want ANSI graphics or not. If you type Y for yes, the ANSI screen will appear. (Alternately, if you type N for no, a text screen will appear.) Both of these screens can be aborted by pressing the space bar. Then you are met with a prompt that looks like this: PW: At this time you will be able to type in your user number, alias, or new for new users. If you are a new user, you will have to go through the usual registration process. Be sure to read and follow instructions carefully. If you don't, you might be auto-purged by the computer. On the board I'm Co-Sysop of, for instance, it is modified where if you skip new user feedback, you are auto-purged immediately. Many WWIV boards have modified the logon screens. Now that you are in, you will probably be met by one or more of the diverse modifications that can be added to the post-logon jargon. Quoters, date and time information, and ANSI art are just a few you might see. At the end of this you are given your status on the board, then shown the main menu. The next thing that is essential information is how to send mail. The mail system on the WWIV system is one of the easiest to use I have encountered on any BBS. You simply press E (you don't have to press the <CR> key, it does it for you), and it asks for the users name or number. If you only know part of a users alias, you can type in that partial and it will spot-check all the names in the system for you. Once you've found your user, it asks for the title of the message and then you can enter your message up to 80 lines long. After you are through, typing /S will take out of the mode. Depending on your security, you might be asked if you want to post anonymously. WWIV also can have a full-screen text editor, which you can bring up with the defaults menu, which will be covered at a later time. The public message system is accessed one of three ways: 1) By pressing the corresponding number of the sub you want to be in and pressing S for scan. 2) By pressing the corresponding number of the sub you want to be in and pressing Q for Quick Scanning that sub for new posts. 3) By pressing N which will Global Quick Scan all the message bases. The Global Quick Scan can be set to only monitor the message bases you wish to scan in the defaults menu. Entering a post is easy. If you Q-scan or Global Q-scan, at the end of each message base you will be asked if you want to post in that sub. If you see a post you want to reply to within a sub, type the number of the post in at the message prompt and then press W (with regards to). After that simply input the reply and press /S. (If you want a list of available commands at your disposal in the message base, type /HELP). Well, that's it for now. In my next article (Mark permitting), I will go over some of the options of the other important part of a BBS: The transfer section. Also, will review some more of the unique features and modifications that WWIV offers. Until next time....... WWIV Bulletin Board System copyright Wayne Bell 1987,1990. ----------------------------------------------------------------------- CONVERSATIONAL TELECOMMUNICATING or, How To Gain Sheer Fame and Adulation Without Really Improving The Quality of Your Normal Life At All *** Tyros *** People walk up to the street and ask me about my status in the Birmingham BBS community. No, they really do. Wearing gray woolen coats and little baseball caps that say "CAN IT", they come running up to me on the sidewalk and demand that I tell them a multitude of things, among them how I manage to keep in the forefront of Birmingham telecommunications culture without even posting all that many messages. And now YOU would like to know the secret. Of course, you do, or you wouldn't be reading this article. Yes, yes, I know that it was embedded inside an issue of BTN, but the TITLE of the article, as well as my name, was listed in the Table of Contents, and if you DIDN'T want to read my article, you'd have spotted the listing and skipped over it, right? You'd have skipped right over it. You either did or did not want to read the article, make up your mind. Well, forget it, it's too late now. Anyhow, the point is, when people read messages on a BBS, their attention span fluctuates as the messages scroll up the screen. It happens to everyone. Heck, I even fall asleep sometimes. Whether the message is part of an on-going discussion, a request for technical information, or complete nonsense (Crunchy Frog users), the awful awful truth is that NOT ALL MESSAGES ARE AFFORDED THE SAME AMOUNT OF ATTENTION. And the ones that stick in peoples' minds are the ones that will have roses on your doorstep. Okay, so the trick, obviously enough, is to fix your message so that people will remember you. This is a daunting task, because scientifically speaking, there are hundreds and hundreds of BBS users and only a sharply limited amount of brain storage per each average user. There are two basic keys to spicing up your messages: Style and....um.. Style. Yes, that's right - two different contexts of the word "style". It means two different things. The first style is the kind of style you learn about in journalism class at college. This sort of style is not what most people think of when they think of style (i.e. "flair", "nuance", "soul", etc.). In fact, journalism has absolutely no style of that kind, so they teach you something else and call it "style" to compensate. What I'm talking about is simple technique - punctuation, capitalization, grammar, and all that. The idea here is simple: Do it all. I mean it. Type two spaces between sentences, one space after commas, the works. Another awful truth is that if you don't at least put in a moderate amount of technical work into your typing, you tend to look, well, illiterate. You people who saw Dean Costello's messages when he was laid up with a leg injury know what I mean; because Dean didn't think it was worth it to strain and make sure all of his messages presented his usual high technical standards, he ended up looking sort of like he had suffered a blow to the head, if you catch my drift. The amazing part of all this was that I talked to him on the phone and he sounded just as he always had! His typing style, even though I knew better, had fooled me into subconsciously thinking that his thought processes has similarly suffered. The reason for this was because messages that are poorly typed look as if that hardly any effort was put into typing them, and thus there must not have been much on the sending end in the first place. Here's an example: murray you promissed you were going to give me that disk now where is it at. steve Ecch! Horrendous. Note that not only is there no capitalization or correct punctuation, but there is a misspelled word! Now, a great myth that has allowed to be festered in the BBS scene is that message misspellings aren't anything to worry about, and people who point them out are dictionary fiends who sit at home with their index finger roving the terminal screen just looking for these things. The awful truth (another one) is that misspellings really do jump out at people. It's extremely easy to correct misspellings, and it makes a world of difference. And for god's sake, if you're not sure about how to spell a word, don't cop out by using that annoying appendation "(sp?)" !! Either look it up and find out how to spell the word, or TYPE OUT "I'm not exactly sure how that's spelled" (or some palatable variant). Using "(sp?)" merely calls attention to the fact that you're a lazy apathetic goof who only wants to avoid getting jumped at instead of trying to actually solve the problem. Trust me. Notice also, in the above example, that "Steve" apparently doesn't respect himself, or his friend for that matter, enough to capitalize the name. (At least we assume they're friends. Doesn't sound much like it, does it?) Now, to correct the technical faults in that example, you would type: Murray, you promised that you were going to give me that disk. Now, where is it at? Steve Mmm. It's still not much of a message, is it? Which brings us to the second key: Style. Yes, this time I'm talking about the REAL style, the way you express yourself, the words you use to make you you. You. Or whatever. There really isn't a whole lot of straight bread-and-butter tips I can give on this one. Everyone has a style all their own, and the awful truth (jeez, another one!) is that if you have a lousy conversational style, you're likely to translate that to the screen, unless you have some sort of repressed split personality. Someone I know types with a decidedly egocentric lilt to his messages, a little arrogant and leering - and that works for him. (I'm not naming any names, but I will say that his name has been mentioned in this article already and it wasn't Murray or Steve.) Myself, I try as much as possible to translate as direct of a rendition of my conversational style as possible. The way this works is that when I type something, whether it's a new message or a response to someone else, what I type is close to what I would actually say in person. This often includes little unnecessary words like "well" and "uh", but often that's the sort of feel I'm trying to get across. I've seen some people even word their messages as if they were being charged money by the line, like a want-ad. Boy, I hate that! I enjoy humanizing my messages so that it actually sounds as if it's coming from a real person, rather than the elaborate mobile computer simulation you see slurping up all the Dr. Pepper at BTN parties. Here's a revised version of the above example. Murray, you lousy mole, you have something that belongs to me and I think you know what it is. Yes, it's a DISK. Everyone: Murray is a rabid thief who makes promises only to break them, and that includes to his women. Murray, go eat moss and die. Steve Okay, so it's not all that hospitable, but you DO remember it! And, I think if truth be told, this little missive does indeed reflect the spirit in which the original, above, was written. So the idea is to make your messages interesting by putting as much of yourself into them as you can cram. At this point, you may be asking, "Why the hell do I have to go through all this crap just to make my messages look better? All I want to know is if anyone has a cheap 2400 baud modem for sale." Well, if that's all you want, type any way you want to. But if you want splendor, admiration, friends, notoriety without peer and people to buy dinner for you, you have to work at it. Be personal. Type clearly. Spout pithy sayings. Make witty rejoinders. Study up on your vocabulary so you can find out what "pithy" and "rejoinder" mean. Before long, you too will have people of the opposite sex begging for 3-inch cut swatches from your wardrobe, so be patient. Thank you and good morning. &&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&& & This article was typed in personally by the author on his own & & brand-new personal PC-compatible machine and his own personal & & fabulous 80-column word processor. Keen, isn't it? & &&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&& ----------------------------------------------------------------------- BTN Party Questionnaire Results by Chris Mohney On the twentieth of June, 1990, a ragtag collection of people assembled at the Maisel fiefdom for a long-overdue celebration. There were deviants and bizarros of every stripe; there were even a few normal people (but these were asked to leave). Never before have I seen as many strange people or flying Milky Way bars as I saw on that night. Still, I had a plan. I would force these creatures to fill out a questionnaire, meaningless in the extreme but nontheless very thought-provoking, to judge from some of the answers. Surprisingly, most obliged ... and so, I have tabulated the most amusing and/or original answers to the 13 questions I asked. Originally I had thought to publish the top 10 responses, but varying numbers of good responses crowded me out of that, as I wanted to put in too many. Ergo, you'll see the "Top Responses" to each question, the responses being in no particular order because I was simply at a loss to come up with a system to rank them. Approximately 25 questionnaires were answered in all. First off, I warn those of delicate temperament to seek entertainment elsewhere. I actually have chosen very few of the viler responses, but nontheless I wouldn't want to offend anybody (snort), so if you are one of those who is easily offended, go watch Joanie Loves Chachi or something. Also, this is not a survey, poll, or what have you. It barely fits a loose interpretation of "questionnaire." I imply no fairness or equality in my choosing of the answers to be published here; it's all completely arbitrary. If you see an answer here that looks like yours but might have been edited a bit, there are several possible reasons. Some of the scrawled answers were hard to read, and I had to do some guesswork. Sometimes the questionnaire was crumpled, or had some strange unidentifiable stain that obscured the writing. I suspect that severe inebriation also contributed to distorting the answers of some. Nevertheless, I think I have remained true to the "spirit" of each answer. If a particular response appeared more than once, its number of appearances along with any other extraneous info will be in parentheses ( ), while editorial comments from yours truly will be in brackets [ ]. I also think I am unconsciously cribbing from the style of that Grand Surveyteer, namely Tyros. But what can I say? Onward! T H E R E S U L T S Question #1: ------------------- Just who do you think you are? ------------------- Top responses: