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I n f o r m a t i o n, C o m m u n i c a t i o n, S u p p l y
E L E C T R O Z I N E
Information Communication Supply 10/5/93 Vol.1:Issue.6 Part:1
Email To: ORG_ZINE@WSC.COLORADO.EDU
E D I T O R S: Local Alias: Email: ICS Positions:
============== ============ ====== ==============
Deva Winblood MeTaL MaSTeR, ADP_DEVA Technical Director,
Ephemeral Ask Deva, Tales of the
Presence Unknown, Editing
Ted Sanders Zorro STU520256399 Writer, Final Editor,
Subscriptions, Fragment
Design, Final Opinion
Jeremy Bek rApIeR STU521279258 Layout, Writer, Editing,
Subscriptions, Letters,
Role Playing Games,
Fragment Design
Jeremy Greene Diabolus STU521139287 Technical Editor,
Subscriptions
Clint Thompson None ADP_CLINT Editing, Writer
Steven Peterson Rufus T. Firefly STU388801940 Editing, Writer
Russel Hutchinson Burnout Writer, Subscriptions,
Editing
George Sibley MAC_FAC FAC_SIBLEY Editing, Supervisor
_____________________________________________________________________________
/ \
| ICS is an Electrozine distributed by students of Western State |
| College in Gunnison, Colorado. We are here to gather information about |
| topics that are important to us all as human beings. If you would like |
| to send in a submission please type it into an ASCII format and mail it |
| to us. We operate on the assumption that if you mail us something you |
| want it to be published. We will do our best to make sure it is |
| distributed and will always inform you when or if it is used. |
| See the end of this issue for submission information. |
\_____________________________________________________________________________/
REDISTRIBUTION: If any part of this issue is copied or used elsewhere
you must give credit to the author and indicate that the information
came from ICS Electrozine ORG_ZINE@WSC.COLORADO.EDU.
DISCLAIMER: The views represented herein do not necessarily represent the
views of the editors of ICS. contributors to ICS assume all
responsibilities for ensuring that articles/submissions are not violating
copyright laws and protections.
|\__________________________________________________/|
| \ / |
| \ T A B L E O F C O N T E N T S / |
| / \ |
| /________________________________________________\ |
|/ \|
| Included in the table of contents you will see some|
| generic symbols to help you in making your |
| decisions on whether an article is something that |
| may use ideas, and/or language that could be |
| offensive to some. S = Sexual Content |
| AL = Adult Language V = Violence O = Opinions |
|____________________________________________________|
| |
| I. First Opinion by Deva Winblood |
| |
| II. New Prejudices by Steven Peterson (O) |
| |
| III. Everyone Needs a Little Magic (O) |
| by Russ Hutchison |
| |
| IV. i wish i could write by Clint Thompson |
| |
| V. An Eagle Speaks on Evolution |
| by George Sibley |
| |
| VI. Eye Opener by Russ Hutchinson (V,S,Al) |
| |
| VII. Almost Middle Opinion by Jeremy Bek |
| |
| 1) Right After the Middle Word By Jeremy Bek |
| |
| 2) Thaumaturgy(Part 1) By Jason Manzcur (O) |
| |
| 3) Women By JamiJo Tobey |
| |
| 4) The Ones We Love By Russ Hutchison (V,AL) |
| |
| 5) Networking School Day(Part 1) By |
| Ted Sanders (O) |
| 6) ListServes By Jeremy Bek (O) |
| |
| 7) The Final Word By Ted Sanders (O) |
\____________________________________________________/
[][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][]
/\___________________________________/\
| \ / |
| \ F I R S T O P I N I O N / |
|/\ \ / /\|
|\/ / By \ \/|
| / \ |
| / Deva Bryson Winblood \ |
|/___________________________________\|
Greetings,
We finally managed to send you issue number five, and just to
prove we are back and producing zines on an ALMOST regular
basis, here begins ICS Electrozine issue number six. The staff is
changing as regularly as we produce new issues. *snicker*
This is the first ICS issue to be sent out in fragment form. The
survey that was sent out during the spring indicated that a large
percentage of our subscribers wanted ICS to be sent to them in
smaller and more frequent issues. Thus, we are switching to the
fragment system. We will be sending each issue out in the form
of two or three fragments. These fragments will then be compiled
into one large issue to be stored on anonymous FTP archive sites.
The new staff and the old are gradually going their own ways, as
not all people can continue to put as much time into the zine as
is neccessary. This is my way of saying that my presence in the
ICS Electrozine will be much less than it has been in the past.
I still plan to write for ICS, but I am also giving the new regime
their chance to do the zine better and take it to new heights.
After this issue, Jeremy Bek will be the ICS Technical Director and
I will be on call if something arises that the regular ICS staff
cannot handle. Anyone that would like to learn of my other
internet projects feel free to write me at through EMAIL and I
will let you know what things new are being contemplated. You
can mail me at ADP_DEVA@WSC.COLORADO.EDU.
This issue features a review of a unique card game. The review
is written by Russell Hutchison. This issue is also being put
together by Jeremy Bek as his first attempt. So, contact him
at ORG_ZINE@WSC.COLORADO.EDU if you have any comments, criticisms,
or just want to congratulate him on his meteoric promotion.
Let this issue represent the dawning of a new era. Let the staff
know if you like what you see.
Deva Winblood - ICS Technical Director 10/26/1993
[][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][]
{******************}
/ \
*( New Prejudices )*
\ /
{******************}
By Steven Peterson
In this, my maiden voyage into the brave new world of electronic
communication, I would like to explore my reactions to the impending
changes facing the television industry in America. As I sit here, large
multi-national corporations are battling for control of the next stage
of cable television expansion. This expansion involves bringing hundreds
of channels to the average citizen of our country, allowing individuals
to specifically program entertainment in a pseudo-interactive way. In
using the term "pseudo-interactive", I am attempting to describe the
limitations of programming choices offered by our entertainment
industry and the implied boundaries this will place on true
intellectual engagement. American television has evolved to a point
where it effectively defines reality for a growing segment of our
population. Realizing this fact, various corporate and political
entities have fused psychology, marketing, and video technology to
create a new science of indoctrination. The intellectually passive
nature of television provides a perfect forum for the dissemination of
these new, subtle forms of propagandistic persuasion. Currently,
free-market demands are the only limiting force (aside from our Federal
Communications Commission) controlling manipulative programming.
In many ways, the American theatre of television has compromised our
democratic form of self-government. Our entire electoral process is
already conducted as a sort of "ratings battle". We elect our leaders
pretty much on the basis of appearance. All of our major (and many minor)
political decisions are now resolved according to criteria imposed by
broadcast methods. Our elected leaders are more or less forced to reduce
any statements of policy to "sound-bites", six to eight second fragments
of discourse designed to appeal to television news editors. These fragmented
statements effectively alienate viewers from adopting a well-informed
position on any of the major issues facing our nation. Cut off from any
valid forms of political revelation, the average citizen in America has
grown to view the entire republican approach to government as divorced
from the effects of individual involvement and perhaps beyond comprehension.
Personally, I feel it is this "distancing" that is responsible for the lack
of civic identification I have felt over the course of my life. I simply
cannot develop any measure of respect for community leaders who seem to
be "playing for the camera". And play for the camera they do ... from minor
press conferences to national elections, image has replaced substance as
the common coin of political success. All too often, political indiscretions
are obscured and hidden by finely crafted efforts to manipulate public
reaction to imagery. The media's portrayal of Oliver North springs to mind
as a perfect example of this use of imagery. I believe most Americans wanted
to believe the defense this "all-american" looking patriot offered during the
potentially devastating Iran-Contra trial. When faced with allegations
of massive improprieties condoned by our President (an inference on my
part), our citizenry generally chose to accept any explanations
this seemingly upstanding individual offered. It is this willingness to
accept the world as it is portrayed on television as reality that
concerns me. This modern "blind-faith" compromises any attempts to challenge
(and improve) the course of our development as a nation and as individuals.
Ironically, Americans depend on this same media to expose and protect
ourselves against these types of abuse. When technology gains the capacity
to control and influence our standards for expression, public and private,
it also gains the potential to control the minds and hearts of every
individual in our society.
Socially, the spectre of five hundred channels of programmable
entertainment will most likely contribute to the increasing
fragmentation of our society. Allowed to descend into the depths of
factional interests, most individuals will see little reason to
"decentrate", or attempt to understand other's perspectives. At this
point, I run into one of the central conflicts inherent in the
"information age" - how to balance highly specialized information
against a bewildering array of valid viewpoints without becoming bogged
down in a morass of confusion. This lack of a viable common context in
which to place our individual impressions and beliefs effectively
prohibits the use of technology as a focal point for unifying the people
of a nation. On the bright side, technology does offer the people of our
world the chance to dissolve the barriers which separate us physically
and intellectually.
The most troubling aspect of this cable revolution is the
overwhelming amount of control large corporate entities are battling
over. These corporations are seeking to control the sources of
programming material as well as the mechanical means of delivery. They
seem to be willing to offer hundreds of choices, but they will still
retain control over which choices you are allowed to make. I find this
system somewhat reminiscent of the former Soviet Communist Party's methods of
maintaining and controlling power. Ultimately, our most fundamental
right to simply turn the damned thing off may be compromised by strong
social pressure to "participate" in this new culture. Given the choice
between a propoganda-free mind and social isolation, most Americans will
choose "interpersonal" indoctrination every time. This new multi-
billion dollar industry will create an opportunity to amass the
necessary capital for monopolistic control over the production
facilities required to produce programs. I can easily forsee the
anti-trust suits that should accompany the resolution of the corporate
take-over battles, and I truly hope that there is an organization out
there with the courage to file a true "class-action" suit.
Perhaps I have just grown cynical about the average level of
independent thinking American citizens are capable of. Then again, I
walk into my college classrooms and see my peers (?) approaching
education itself as a passive activity. Bean counters, I call 'em,
people who are attempting to collect their daily doses of knowledge with
this unstated expectation that wisdom will magically spring forth
with no effort on their part. This attitude, a product of television
viewing habits, insidiously taints my education by forcing the
faculty of my college to "play" to this type of student audience.
Simply increasing the scope of material available doesn't promise to alter
this fundamentally passive habit of blindly accepting statements made
from a position of relative authority.
So, is there a solution to this dilemma? Probably not. Television
has gained such a powerful hold over our society that any attempts to
regulate it will be resisted by entities with the money and clout
required to block any such attempts. The real battle will be fought at
the individual level by people committed to maintaining the intellectual
integrity of our nation. Personally, I am currently preparing to embark
on a career of secondary teaching, so this issue is of more than passing
concern to me. The spectre of a sub-literate nation controlling vast
nuclear and other weapons technology doesn't exactly fill me with
confidence, or hope. The final irony may be that the technological
revolution responsible for these weapons may also rob us of the
judgement required to maintain control over it.
"The life of every man who dissents from prevailing ideas is
bound to be more or less lonely".
- H.L. Mencken
[][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][]
_______
/ /-\ \
/\ /\ /\ | \_/ | /\ /\ /\
/ \/ \/ \|_______|/ \/ \/ \
/ Everyone Needs a Little Magic \
__/___________________________________\__
( )
\ By Russell Hutchison /
/ ----------------------------------------\
Recently I was in a game store in Colorado Springs when a friend of
mine noticed four decks of cards of the game Magic, The Gathering, on
display. He pointed them out to me and informed me that the game was
sweeping the nation. In fact, he had called around to multiple game
distributers all over the mid-west and said he wanted some Magic. "Doesn't
everybody", was the common response. After hearing several stories
from the shop owner about how fast the game was selling (Up to 40 decks
of cards after one demonstration!) I decided to get a deck and try it
out. My friend whipped out his VISA and bought the other three. I felt
that he was going over board with the game, until I played it for the
first time. Now I wish I had bought at least another deck.
The game was designed by Richard Garfield Ph.D., and is published
by Wizards of the Coast, Inc. It is a combination of trading cards
with art from over 20 artists and a card game that is more or less like
the card game called War, except infinitely more interesting and fun.
Within each deck of cards are cards which represent various types of Land,
Creatures, Artifacts, and Spells. Land cards represent the the magic
power that is accessable to each player. Certain types of land are
necessary to put different cards in play. Creatures are used to cause
"damage" to your opponent and to defend you from your opponents'
creatures. Artifacts are cards that are used to strengthen your power
and weaken your enemy. Spell cards are used to damage your opponent,
his/her creatures, or artifacts and strengthen your creatures.
The most common game played is a two player version, called a Duel,
but multi-player games are possible. Games are usually played to win
an ante of one random card. By winning certain games the strength of
your deck will increase (or decrease) and there will be weaknesses that
you will need to repair through trading or Duels.
One aspect of the game that makes it much more interesting is that
there are 300 cards in the series (so far) and each deck holds only 60
randomly selected cards. Thus, the contents of any one deck is never
known when opponents first meet. More types of cards are in the works
and so are booster packs for those who just want to add a little spice
to their decks.
All in all this game is one of the most fun games to hit the scene
in quite some time. The play testers of the game have been playing
for more than two years and are still going strong. So, I have high
hopes that this game will provide entertainment for many years to come.
For more information there is a listserv that is accessable by sending
the message "subscribe gg-1 YourRealName" to listserv@wizards.com.
[][][][][][][][][][][][]][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][[][][][][][][][][][][][][]
/-------------------------------------------------\
)============== i wish i could write =============(
\_________________________________________________/
i wish i could write.
i wish i could reach the
deepest
deep
of my soul with a pen,
and wrench it free.
i wish i could write
the wings of a bird,
or explain the sound of
love
in spring.
i wish i could capture
the taste, in a word, of
a breath of
mountain air
at twilight.
the sun in twisting robes of red and orange
descends
into
her bed.
no, i must watch the moment
then watch the moment leave...
unable to hold it here
with paper and ink.
the greatest moments of my life
are volumes
only read by me.
unable to live by paper and pen
for all the world to see.
Clint Thompson
[][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][]
________________________________________________
AN EAGLE SPEAKS ON EVOLUTION )
___________________________________________)----
_____________________________________)
_____________________________)
______________________)
It's a story eagles have always told,
But humans are just again learning to hear it.
It's a story from back when the dragons ruled
And bigger was known to be better:
Bigger and tougher and more armored against all
Even life, those were the standards:
Might made right; the strong got stronger
And the big just got bigger and bigger.
That's like the story the humans tell;
But as humans tell it, it goes nowhere:
Things changed, and the dragons simply perished.
But the story the eagles tell is different,
The story humans are just learning to hear.
The way the eagles tell it, some of the little dragons,
Little in some ways, but strong in their own way,
Began to change too.
They gave up on the claws and armor;
And their claws grew long and delicate and fragile,
And their scales became long, soft and fluffy.
How the big dragons laughed!
Har! Har! thundered the thunder-dragons,
As the soft little lizards hopped and flapped along
Little soaring leaps to avoid being clawed and bashed
Trampled and smashed by the heavy armored feet.
But the webbing claws and the feathering scales
Continued to lengthen even as the thunder-dragons
Continued to laugh their thunderous laugh, repeating the wisdom:
Bigger is better; might makes right; nothing succeeds
Like success: bigger claws and thicker scales--
Think of that now, says the eagle,
As you watch me ride the shatter of light
Up the face of the mountain.
Think of that as you strain to see the cranes
A mile up with their great transcontinental wingbeat,
Or follow the dart and swoop of the swallow.
Think of that as you look for your way
In a world going mad with bigness, toughness, armor.
--George Sibley
[][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][]
_ _ _
|_____|
/ ____ \
Eye Opener / / \ \
| | 1:11| |
| | am| |:
By Russell Hutchison \ \___/ /
\_____/
|_ _ _|
| _ _ |
The dark cloak of sleep was pulled slowly away from Eric's eyes
and mind. He knew something was happening, something important, but he
felt as if he was trying to think through a black gauze bandage. The
young boy opened one of his eyes, his half-gaze fell upon a small,
dark, hunched shape, with multiple, blazing red eyes, squatting well
within his arms reach. Panic started to build in Eric's chest with a
warm pressure and a heady, almost fuzzy feeling gripped his still
groggy mind as adrenaline kick started his thoughts. At the same
time the creature's unseen jaws snapped shut. Eric hardly noticed that
he screamed as he slammed his back into the wall behind his bed, trying,
by force of will, to merge with the wall or grind a path to safety through
it with his shoulder blades. The creature, which seemed to be smaller
than a toaster, didn't even flinch. Eric's vision finally cleared and in
the weak moonlight he found himself staring at the glowing face of his
new digital clock. He stared at it a while longer while his breathing
returned to normal and his hands began to shake slightly.
The sound of foot steps approaching his closed door and his
mother's voice calling his name helped to calm him down. The door was
pushed open and the vague shape of his mother's head poked through the
dark rupture.
"Eric, honey, are you alright?" Eric could hear the worry in his
mother's voice and the sound of her hand sliding across the wall, vainly
searching for the light switch. He closed his eyes, waiting for his
vision to become red.
"I'm fine, mom." Eric heard the heavy, ponderous footsteps of his
barrel-chested father coming closer. "I had a bad dream, and the clock
scared me."
"We heard you scream," his mom said. There was a sharp click and
the insides of Eric's eyes glowed red.
"Yeah, I thought the clock was a monster, it scared me."
"Awful short monster," said his father from the hall. His balding
head visible in the light spilling over the mother's shoulder into the
hall. "I don't think you have anything to worry about, son." A yawn
contorted his face into the visage of a man in pain. "Good night, pup."
The father disappeared from view.
"Good night, dad."
"Good night, Eric. Get some sleep, you have school tomorrow."
"Yes, mom. I love you."
Eric looked back at the clock, making sure that it was really a
clock. A small tag was taped to the clock. It read: "Happy eleventh
birthday! Love ya bro', Mike." There was a click and the room was
draped in darkness again. Only the glowing numbers on the clock were
visible as his eyes adjusted back to the moonlight. Eric watched the
time change from 1:10 A.M. to 1:11, and his night vision had almost
completely returned.
But the horror, when, in the crystalline silence left in the wake of his
parent's departure, the sound of the monster's jaws snapping shut sounded
from the far side of the room. Eric tore his gaze from the glowing machine
and tried, fruitlessly, to spot the creature. But the moonlight pooling on
the floor made the section of the room between the window and the light
as black as pitch. Young Eric was about to call to his parents again
when the sound happened again. But this time he knew the source.
Someone was bouncing pebbles off his window.
Eric hopped out of bed and walked quietly to the window. Pressing
his face against the cool, clear glass he saw his best friend, Paul,
waving to him from the ground, one floor down. Wasting no time, Eric put
on warm clothes that were warm and dark in color. He then slipped out
his bedroom door and took his usual path, the one where he knew all
the squeaky floor-boards to the front door. He checked to make sure he
had the key in his pocket before he closed the door. While he did this
Paul had come around the corner of the house, moving in the shadows around
the base of the house. The two boys held their greetings until after
the door was closed and they had safely crossed the street into a greenbelt
between the neighbors yards.
Eric slapped Paul on his shoulder, "You dork, you scared the hell
out of me! I thought Mike's clock was a monster...for a second."
"It's good to see you, too. I sneak out of my house, risk getting
grounded for life by seeing you, all just to say happy birthday, and you
slap me because your rapist brother's clock scares you. " Gawd, what a
jerk!" Paul, with arms akimbo, fixes Eric with a gaze of mock hurt.
"I'm sorry about hitting you, but I was scared...and don't talk
like my brother is bad. He's my family...even if he was guilty. And
how can you say bad stuff about him when he used to play with us both
all the time?"
"I guess my mom is rubbing off on me. She still forbids me to see
you. I guess she thinks that you'll turn out bad too, and you'll pull
me down with you. She says that you only care about him because you've
never known a female who was raped."
"Bull, I know what I feel! Your mom is full of it!"
"Who cares anyway? I just want to go stealthin'. We haven't done
that since Mike's trial."
"Yeah, lets go. I...I need to be moving or something."
The two boys started to play their game of stealthin', and within
twenty minutes of dodging and hiding from cars and people Eric's humor
returned. But then, while they were hiding in a bush, the faint sound
of Paul's mom calling his name drifted to their silent hiding place.
"Oh no! I gotta go! I'll see you later, Eric," Paul jumped up from
behind the bush, startling a group of college kids who were heading home
from last call.
"Take care!" whispered Eric, but Paul was long gone.
When the students had passed he stood up and decided that it would
be best to go home. He began to sneak his way from bush to bush, and
car to car. He only had a few blocks to go and was cutting through a
greenbelt when he noticed the dark shape of someone walking into the
other end. The person was stumbling around, drunk, and since he was
already hidden Eric thought that he would stay behind a bush and wait
until the person was gone. As the dark figure got closer he could tell
it was a woman. Then, a large figure burst from the bushes, followed by
two more. The first shadow tackled the woman with a shoulder in the
small of her back. Eric heard the breath burst from her lungs as she
hit the ground. Then the other two shadows swarmed over her. He
watched as they cursed at her, wrapping their hands around her throat,
hit her, tore her clothes. All the time he could hear the woman's sobs,
labored breathing, and choked off pleas to be released.
Eric was shaking, he knew he had to do something. Everything was
so terrible that he felt like he was watching T.V. Then it occured to
him that, if it was T.V. then he couldn't get hurt. All he would have
to do is yell or something, then the shadows would leave. Slowly he
stepped around the side of the bush. The dark pile of people was making
strange noises and saying words that only older kids used before they
fought. Eric tried to yell but he couldn't while looking at the
writhing pile. He looked up and tried to keep away the sounds by covering
his ears.
"Go away," he said, in a voice barely louder than a whisper.
"GO AWAY!" his shriek tore the muffled comments of the shadows into
silence.
"GO AWAY!" He yelled again. Eric was starting to feel panic, like
he was watching the dark monster again, but this time it was moving.
This time it was saying words, words that he couldn't understand. They
were quiet, deep in tone and spoken quickly. It's voice was like a
hypnotic spell that was placing the black gauze back around his mind.
Then a small wimper, from a female voice, escaped from under the
monster. The spell was broken and Eric inhaled to scream again. But
the monster struck and the world flashed bright as the sun, then faded
to darkness.
When he woke it was still dark. There was no sign of the
monster or the woman, except for a piece of clothing or two. Eric
couldn't see out of one eye and his face ached with heat and pain.
He ran the rest of the way home, racing through the neighborhood like
something was chasing him. He threw open his door and rushed through
his house. As he ran, a long yell began to leave his throat. He shoved
open his door, slamming it into the wall. In three steps he was on top of
the monster squatting by his bed. He grasped it by the tail and whipped
it against the nightstand over and over, screaming.
"I HATE YOU, I HATE YOU..." finally the monster shattered in
his grasp. Eric dropped to the ground and began to cry. The world
flared white and a pair of arms grabbed his shoulders. It was his
mother.
"What's wrong, what are you doing?!"
Eric looked down at his hand, where an electrical cord was clenched
instead of a tail. A tag reading: "Happy eleventh birthday! Love ya
bro', Mike" lay in the wreckage of the clock.
"I never want to see Mike again," Eric whispered. "He's a
monster."
"What happend to your face?"
"The Monster bit me."
[][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][][]
******************************************************
**** The Almost Middle Opinion ***
******************************************************
In the change of any organization there is conflict.
We had plenty. Our friendships were tested in may ways as
the old made way for the new. I hope that the change you will
see take place will be a pleasant one. I would love to hear
your comments on the frag design and on the quality of this zine.
We make this for you so please e-mail us. In short we would
enjoy your input.
On a good note, we are back on schedule and have more
than enough articles to fill the next frag and that is how we
are planning to stay, one week ahead of time. Be prepared because
every tuesday night a new fragment of this zine will be out.
Enjoy and have a happy Halloween.
rApIeR
tHe dAtA sToRe