|| -------- -- -----  A E R I E   O B L I V I A N A . singular book of text wandertainment by Frank Edward Nora ------------------- ----------- OSOAWEEK--ISSUE 031--2/23/95 <-------  ||  OsoaWeek  ||  Issues  ||  Book 3  ||  -------> (Cup OWis031, Created v1 (4/27/99), Copyright 1999) = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = = [[BEGIN031OW]] [[01031CV]] * * * O S O A W E E K 0 3 1 * * * February 23, 1995 "The weekly ezine of Obliviana Super Occult Amusement!" by Frank Edward Nora INSIDE THIS ISSUE! * Much enjoyable! Get it all! Yeah! OsoaWeek! * The New Lego Block Theme * Minsk * SI-41 Rocket Launcher * Mammal Overhaul * "Zope's Nudity Laundromat" * "Van Zope" * The 2,000,000th ASCII Character of OsoaWeek! * The New M&M Color Election * Songs of the Week--one common and one obscure! * The Everbeta Phenomenon * Stogie Cunning, Unhistory, Bad Frolic... * ...Chartoff, and Copper Dear! * Riot Control Agent * Beublin A. Richardson--Episode 5 * Severe Repair Almanac * "Foreman Ittener Pier" * And a whole lot more! * YOU'D BEST GET TO DOWNLOADING THIS, TIMMY! (Permission is granted to make complete, verbatim, digital ASCII copies of this copyrighted ezine for the purpose of free distribution. All other forms of reproduction require written permission from Frank Edward Nora.) OsoaWeek is published weekly by Obliviana Super Occult Amusement, and originates from New Jersey, USA. Copyright 1995 Frank Edward Nora . All contents by Frank Edward Nora unless otherwise noted.Phone: 1-800 OBLIVIANA E-mail: obliviana@aol.com Mail: Osoa, P.O. Box 60, Iselin, NJ 08830-0060 Character count: 58376 / Line count: 1655 The Table of Contents is at the very end of this file. For the mail order Catalog of Obliviana, send an e-mail request to obliviana@aol.com. *OW* [[02031HR]] Hemisinister Review ***LEGO BLOCKS*** AQUANAUTS--SEA SPRINT 9 I've been following the growing Lego world for some time now--and I'm always wondering what the next major themed area is going to be. As you may or may not know, the current major themes are fantasy (castles, dragons, wizards), science fiction (space ships, astronauts, robots), pirates (galleons, gold, island natives), town (pizzerias, space shuttles, tractor trailers)--and the girl-oriented, very pink "Paradisa" (island resort fun, sailboats, umbrellas). To me, there are some obvious themes that the Lego Masters of Denmark keep ignoring--prime among them a cowboys & Indians, Old West theme. I mean, what the hell are they thinking? Old West Legos would rule! The only thing I can think of is the politically correct hot potato of American Indians--God only knows what sort of trouble little redskin Lego people would cause. Still, they do have those island natives in the pirate sets--so maybe they can do it... Another obvious choice would be Ancient Egypt--chock full of rich themes--from pyramids to throne rooms to those cool animal-head gods. There could also be Ancient Greece and Ancient Rome adjunct sets. This would also allow for Indiana Jones types of characters. And come on--how about horror? Little Frankensteins, werewolves, vampires--London playsets, Big Ben, etc. An adjunct could be Sherlock Holmes, and all that. Come on Lego! Get with it! An Arctic, snowbound theme was touched upon with a space ice planet thing, but an Arctic series, with Eskimos, explorers, dog sled teams, walruses, and the like would be awesome. And--HELLO! How about war? I yearn for cool little Lego soldiers, tanks, and fighter jets. There could be Revolutionary War, Civil War, WW I, WW II, Korean War I, Vietnam, Desert Storm, and a host of others! THIS WOULD BE THE BEST! But the next big Lego theme, just released this year, is not any of the above awesome ideas--but "Aquazone"--a SeaQuest-inspired high-tech underwater theme. Like, yawn. I got the Sea Sprint 9, a little "Aquanauts" vehicle (as opposed to the evil "Aquasharks"). And while it is a little disappointing that Lego decided to go with this rather uninspiring theme, I have to say it has some cool aspects. The little Lego flipper which attach to the bottom of Lego people feet are pretty cool. The little silver knives are also an excellent touch, as is the breathing apparatus and helmet. The set I got was a little $3.99 jobber--but the literature within promises some pretty cool stuff--like a Lego octopus and Lego seaweed. But come on--with all the obvious themes I listed above, Lego's decision must worry the Lego watcher. And I know--I just know--that the next theme is gonna be some sort of lame cyberpunk thing--I just know it. That, or (gag) cavemen and dinosaurs. A LEGO TAROT? The Lego fantasy sets have cups, coins, swords, and wands--as well as various medieval characters and locations--all the stuff necessary to create a Lego Tarot! Maybe someone will endeavor to create a set of three-dimensional Lego Tarot cards! (Not me, though--it sounds like a thankless job.) *OW* [[03031HT]] Halfevil Times ***HALFEVIL TIMES SOOPER NEWS*** MINSK NO MORE Minsk, the capital of Belarus, tragically evaporated in the noonday sun yesterday. Eyewitnesses report that the entire city--buildings, streets, people, cars--everything--vaporized in a matter of minutes at about 11:43 AM local time. Scientists speculate that a unique combination of acid rain, humidity, radioactive fallout, air pressure, and negative ions contributed to the unfortunate event. "Don't laugh." quipped evaporation expert Dr. Ivan Sloane. "The same thing could happen to any city--even the one YOU live in!" Dr. Sloan's left arm and most of his torso were vaporized in the Great Scandinavian Evaporation of 1988. DEM KILLING SPREE DRAWS JEERS As more and more Democrats in Congress take to the highways of America and kill hundreds of innocent people, in a blind rage over their devastating losses of Nov. '94, roving bands of drunken nogoodniks are constantly at hand to razz the angry pols. For example, Sen. Bill Bradley's relentless chainsaw rampage through Kirksville, Missouri was constantly interrupted by shouts of "You couldn't kill a fifteen-year-old porno star with an SI-41 rocket launcher.", "I could cut people into more parts with a butter knife.", and "Nov. 8! Nov. 8! Nov. 8 you Democratic ape!", among others. President Clinton was unavailable for comment, as he's retreated to his fortified bunker in Nunavut, Canada until further notice. MAMMAL LINE FACES OVERHAUL, SAYS JESUS Jesus Christ can't leave well-enough alone, it seems. At a press conference yesterday, He outlined a far-reaching series of changes in the milk-giving part of the animal kingdom, mammals, of which us humans are a part. "We're gonna start right off canceling the entire whale line--" Jesus decreed, "--they're too smart and they act like fish. Then, we plan on expanding the rodent line into the rhinoceros and elephant size range. Kangaroos, wallabies, and all that Australian crap is already on thin ice and will probably be severely cut back. Egg-laying will be introduced into over half of all mammals, including humans. And the first dinosaur-sized mammals will be the brontobison and the suprasloth." Religious expert Molly Rimp downplays the cosmic significance of all this--"God boy is just sowing his wild oats--the secret is just to ignore him and his mammal modifications. Then he'll get bored and move onto something else." Like what, Molly? Banishing so-called religious experts to the Fiery Pit? *OW* [[04031ZP]] Zope "Zope's Nudity Laundromat" ZOPE Nudity is good. WEASEL You think? ZOPE Yes. I want some naked girls. Now. WEASEL Okay Zope, but how do you propose we get them? ZOPE Okay, how 'bout--uh, a free laundromat where only hot girls can enter and where you can only wash the clothes you're wearing when you enter? Hey? Pretty good plan, eh? WEASEL I don't know--it sounds like you're going off on one of your tangents again--making things more complicated than they need to be... ZOPE Nonsense! How much simpler could a plan be? WEASEL Okay--but what happens once the girls are naked? What do they do? ZOPE How should I know? They do naked girl things! Whatever! Look--who cares? I mean, with naked babes, how can you go wrong? WEASEL Well all right--but I still think we could go about things a little easier. Later... (In front of "Zope's Nudity Laundromat".) ZOPE (using megaphone) Step right up! Free laundry for bitchin' babes! Get naked and junk! Yes indeed ladies, a once in a lifetime offer! WEASEL Zope, I don't think this is working. ZOPE Y'know Weez, I think I agree. Guess it's time to break out the foldout naked girl reality clones I've been saving. WEASEL You had those all the time!? ZOPE Well yeah--but I figured it was too simple to just UNFOLD naked girls--I felt something a little more complicated was in order! WEASEL *Sigh.* *OW* [[05031CZ]] Classic Zope "Van Zope" (was nameless--title newly created) 5/29/91 The back of a van on the side of the highway early one misty morning... ATROV Hey Zope--there's a car coming--it might be them. ZOPEHey--keep it down Atrov--I'm watchin' Mary Poppins here. ATROV Oh really! Can I watch too? ZOPE Yeah--but keep quiet--and keep an eye on the road, dude. ATROV Okay! Soon... ZOPE Y'know Atrov--that little girl Jane Banks is pretty cute--and she must be grown up by now. I'd like to do her. ATROV I wanna do Mary! *OW* [[06031LA]] Lord of Obliviana How tired am I these days? Real. Real tired. I'd gotten real behind on OsoaWeek, so a few days ago I stayed up real late getting 030 done. That messed me up pretty good, I have to be at my job in Manhattan by 8 am. I got there after less than three hours sleep. Then I went to see the Broadway premiere of "Defending the Caveman". Then I slept about six hours last night and my mind was fried today. And now it's this evening and I'm tired again. And this issue is a week late. And this issue is real far from being completed. But I must persevere. It's funny. The space I'm operating in, my assumptions. I'm here in 1995, getting ready for the big Digital Superworld wave scheduled for '96, '97, '98, sometime like that. Right now, I know not many people will read OsoaWeek031 right when it's released--but I truly believe that as OsoaWeek031 will be perpetually available in its digital form--that eventually, there will be a great many readers of OsoaWeek031. A great many readers of these words. So who are you? I'd like to look out at the faces of all the people who will ever read this. Man what sight that would be. All of you listening to me, 1995 guy. Can you believe I'm so far in the past, all you futurians? I mean, Bill Clinton is still f*cking President, and many PC's are still sold with only 4MB of RAM! And we still use CD-ROM! Hahahaha! How lame! I know that in the history of the future, 1995 is the blastoff year. I think that the Digital Superworld starts this year. It's just March now--by the fall I hope to be a real part of the burgeoning Digital Superworld. Right now, though, I know that I have to go to sleep in less than an hour. Who knows when this issue will get done. I gotta catch up. I just gotta! I'm messed up. Yeah. But I think about these things, y'know, like--I mean, like how my work would be different if I could work on OsoaWeek full time. I mean, I certainly wouldn't be the same. That is, the specific writing would almost certainly be different; a lot of my work is influenced by things that happen during my grueling commute and workday. And I suspect that the work I'm producing in this environment is better in some ways than the hypothetical other way. Huh? Yeah, I know--it sounds like a justification, and it probably is. I mean--the question is always out there--of when I'll be able to make a living doing Obliviana. And I really don't know. To me, it could be a year, a year-and-a-half. Pretty depressing. But in order to get THERE I have to work my ass off HERE. Get it? I have a strong urge to eat cereal. So I shall. So good night. Many days later now. An emerging toothache clouds my consciousness as this issue nears completion two weeks late. Typing with one hand as I eat a reheated bean burrito and drink a Coke and orange juice. What can I do? How can I catch up? How can I avoid f*cking up my greatest project ever, the fruition of years of laborious toil--Obliviana? I dunno. Just hafta keep on truckin', I guess. Ah, you know? Some kinda creative lull--not writer's block, but just a general malaise. Yeah I work my 9-5 a lot, but I know from experience that's it. I've had 100% free time and done nothing more often than I'd like to remember, hey? And now, though I'm behind, I'm producing more than ever before! Where have I come from, anyway? I had a tumultuous childhood in my lifelong home of New Jersey. I entered heavy nerd mode in high school, and then very weirdo mode in college. I'd been creative my whole life, but it wasn't till 1986, at age 18, that I really began to bloom big time. Nine years ago. Not even a decade so far. So here I am, at 27, making my strongest stab at success yet. You know, I think the reason I WILL succeed is the same reason I'm in such a funk now--solitude. As you may know, ALL of OsoaWeek, all two-million-plus ASCII characters (with a few extremely minor exceptions) is done by me, Frank Edward Nora, Lord of Obliviana. And yeah--I do get freaked out by the isolation from time to time--but I know that in the long run, it's the best way for things to be. So what does this all mean? I guess it's just another phase in the creation of Obliviana Super Occult Amusement. A time I'll look back on with bemusement. Yeah, I know I'll probably be reading these words many decades in the future. Should I greet myself, the myself from the 2010s, the 2020s, the 2030s? Whatever. How ya doin' up there? By 2039 I'll be 72. Huh. Guess I won't make it to the Tricentennial. But you never know--folks have lived to 108 before (rather, 108 and three-quarters)... Okay, enough. I'm almost there, and I grow fatigued. 10 frickin' 30 and I'm about to collapse. What's happening to my life? Well people, see ya in seven and as always, GET ALL OBLIVIANA! *OW* [[07031NH]] Nihilistica ***TWO-MILLION BYTES AND RISING!*** You knew it would happen sooner or later, and so it has! OsoaWeek reached its two-millionth ASCII character last issue! Wow--2,000,000 keystrokes. If I had a nickel for every keystroke I'd have, uh, I'd have $10,000. And y'know what, friend? I managed to track down the exact two-millionth character! It resides in Severe Repair 30, and here it is... the letter "s" in the word "say" in the following line: persons was just--let's just say it would have meant the end SAY! Whattaya know? I'd say that "say" is a pretty good word to start off the race to three-million! And stay with us folks! Less than 998 million more characters to go before we reach the ONE BILLION mark! ***THE GREAT ELECTION OF 1995*** You've seen the commercials--now it's time to weigh your options and vote for the new M&M color! Yes, with all the hype of the return of the red M&M, M&M/Mars is making a real big deal out of the addition of a new color. As a service to you, dear reader, I shall trudge through the intellectual labyrinth that is the new M&M color issue. Pink. Nice color. Color of love. Color of girls. All that. The only problem is, there already ARE pink M&M's! I had some last month, in a Valentine's Day M&M package! So for this reason alone, I won't even consider pink. That, and it doesn't go too well with the existing color set. Blue. Now this one has possibilities. It's a light blue, cyan sort of color. Kind of looks like medicine. A nice deep royal blue might have served M&M/Mars better. As it is, I like the color, but I don't think it integrates well with the darker, more earthy colors of the current M&M's. Purple. This one will win, since it's the logical choice. Usually reserved for grape flavored candy, a purple M&M seems a little dirty and out of place. This tint of erotica and the dark side are what will push the purple M&M over the top. I think it'll look great alongside those two browns. So there you go--the official OsoaWeek endorsement goes to the purple M&M. To vote, simply call 1-800-FUN-COLOR. It'll give you four choices--the three colors and "no change" (duh). Be prepared to give your full name and mailing address in order for your vote to count, though. Maybe next they'll change the name of the Mars bar to another planet. How'd you like a Uranus bar? ***SONGS OF THE WEEK*** "Get Ready for This (Orchestral Mix)"--2 Unlimited (from the album "Get Ready") "Go Insane"--Lindsey Buckingham (from the album "Go Insane") *OW* [[08031OL]] Obliviana Primal ***EVERBETA*** I work on a PowerMac every day, in the prepress field. And every day, there are bugs, inconsistencies, confusions, misunderstandings, weaknesses, shortfalls, and everything else with the software. Why is this? Mind you, the main programs used--Quark XPress, Adobe Illustrator, Adobe Photoshop and the rest aren't cheap--they retail in the $500 to $1000 range. So why are they, as well as the Mac OS that they operate in, so buggy? The reason is, to my mind, that the technology is increasing so fast, that software companies never have enough time to perfect their product in a certain environment before they have to move on to the newest chip, operating system, programming method, etc. So what's happening is that all software is perpetually incomplete and flawed. And the way things look, this phenomenon show no sign of slowing down. Rather, as technology increases at a geometric rate, this "everbeta" phenomenon should keep on getting worse and worse. Another good example of this is video games. Early on, in the Atari 2600 days, the advance of technology was slow, and the technology basic. In this environment, developers could spend a lot more time on implementation. So it's no wonder that the body of games developed for the 2600 shows more diversity, excellence of gameplay, and overall quality than for any other game system since. A computer is like a blank page, a "tabula rasa". Even the most basic computers of the past presented a dizzying vista of possibilities to programmers. Just imagine if the old TRS-80, VIC-20, or any of those remained the standard up to today--I guarantee there would be an amazing array of innovative, exciting software for these systems. But as it happened, these old-timers were shelved in favor of more advanced systems. Now, I realize that everbeta is inevitable--but it's still unfortunate. And of course, even though the potential of a system is never fully realized, there are a lot of great applications and games out there. But you need millions to keep up with the rigors of development on cutting edge systems. So, for a variety of reasons, there's a budding backlash against everbeta. On one front, there's the resurgence of classic video games. More and more software based on these classic games is being released. The Microsoft Arcade, the upcoming Activision 2600 games for Windows, and the boom in Mac shareware versions of classic games are all examples of this. Also for the Mac is a series of games--Defender, Robotron, and Joust--which use the EXACT same code as the arcade machines. That is, the developer built an arcade emulator on the Mac which enables the Mac to run the original arcade code. As well, products such as "The Lost Treasures of Infocom" show that there's still a market for text adventure games--with most of the action is shareware, however. Now where I'm at now, I have a lot of content, but very little money for implementation. So it makes sense, both from a financial and philosophic view that I take Obliviana in this "anti-everbeta" direction. And the technology I plan to focus on is very basic, but by no means defunct--and that is E-MAIL. In today's hypeland of World Wide Web, video servers, GUI online systems, and the like, e-mail seems pretty dull. But in terms of universality, ease of use, and cost, e-mail can't be beaten as an electronic communication medium. Obliviana Primal, which will launch on April 27 of this year, is to be an EMBARGO, or E-Mail Based ARGOsy--in other words, an E-mail vehicle for infostimulation. (This is a term I just coined.) The advantages of E-mail are striking. A vast amount of people have it, either through school, work, online services (AOL, Prodigy, Compuserve, etc.), or an actual Internet connection. And the medium of E-mail--ASCII text--is about as universal a format as can be--readable by just about every computer on Earth. Of course, the biggest disadvantage is also ASCII--which is just text with no fonts, formatting, graphics, sounds, or video. But I contend that all things considered, text is the best medium for tele-electronic infostimulation we have right now. A big online problem is the vast quantity of digital material, and the general lack of any sort of order. Sitting in front of the TV and being entertained takes very little effort. Sifting thru millions of files online, on the other hand, is a chore. But E-mail solves this problem, because it comes right to you, to your electronic mailbox. Now, the amount of text an E-mail message can contain is limited, both by technical and by logical constraints. Technically (at least on America Online, the best overall E-mail provider) messages are limited to 20K. And logically, as E-mail is something a person is likely to read on an E-mail reader as opposed to a sophisticated word processor, too long a message would be too cumbersome to sort through and absorb. So the Obliviana Primal EMBARGO will initially consist of a weekly release of about 10K to 15K of text. It will be mailed to everyone on the current subscriber list. And in addition, every subscriber with a Fonosta will be able to interact with the Obliviana Primal world by sending mail back. You might think that a BBS or a WWW page would be a much better way to go about creating an online world--but remember--beyond the fact that I don't have the resources--these methods would be available to far fewer people, and would be more complicated to access. So for better or for worse, I'm going the EMBARGO route. I think it'll work. *OW* [[09031AB]] Antebellum STOGIE CUNNING Profiles: Weaver/Wild County: Burlington Sex: Male Description: This sly, scheming anthropomorphic fox wears a striped baseball uniform and smokes a cigar. He loves the trickery he can create using his alter reality powers--but in a scrape, his claws and fangs can deal some respectable damage. Funloving but powermad, Stogie Cunning is a shaky ally at best. UNHISTORY Profiles: Clock/Fright County: Burlington Sex: Male Description: Clad in a tattered gray cloak, Unhistory has a backward-running clock for a face and a devastating set of powers. Malicious and evil, Unhistory takes great satisfaction in spreading horror and chaos. His ultimate goal is to tear apart all of reality--not a real friendly guy. BAD FROLIC Profiles: Fright/Jester County: Camden Sex: Male Description: A dreadful little fellow, Bad Frolic is a dark jester with a black suit and pale gray skin. He loves to scare and confuse people, and while he'd like to believe he's pure evil, he does have a reluctant compassionate side. CHARTOFF Profiles: Martial/Static County: Camden Sex: Female Description: With her flowing white hair, sunglasses, and tuxedo-like costume, Chartoff makes quite an impression. Of course, her martial arts ability and electrical powers help too. Bright and sarcastic, she can make a good friend and ally. COPPER DEAR Profiles: Lovely/Metal County: Camden Sex: Female Description: A knockout made of copper, Copper Dear is an enigmatic sort--often distant and aloof. On the surface, though, she's suggestive, funloving, and aggressive. She often frustrates her male teammembers with too much teasing and too little follow through. This can turn teammates against her as she continues to search for herself. *OW* [[10031SU]] Superior SUPERIOR 173 Be still, riot control agent--deadly poetry Mongolians arrive. SUPERIOR 174 I cannot bretend to hampa, Dean--een wuslot for, see, if I go up wixkedstreets, it'll cost more, yah? Nemm neeb? Making sense was it, youa, and how ilta was she? Formilapome camtic efferfoil can it brerben can it up, up old hi, hihi, hi. No right now it's NOT able, how feara and froma, ligote fora, this is reaj. And again, it's on a ferry to Brooklyn, but when? SUPERIOR 175 She came in as a blurry vision; an oasis in the terrible night. My mysticism turned to shock when she revealed her true face. A weapon passed to me. I struck her. She just took my hand and led me down infinite pathways. Now I work at K-Mart. Container is more than container. SUPERIOR 176 Comma J, the code word for the attack. The details were scoundrels, and our faces were none to match. Scuse me man, has the day to die arrived. It's not always like that boy, we have a paranormal girl with us, none of us will die, she will kill them all, so relax, you won't even have to fight. I remember languishing and meandering on windy hilltops--I don't have to work, I don't have to fret. This place is strange--got here in some peripheral wisps of ultramagic on the battlefield. I know that the longer I stay here, the farther back in the past it'll be when I return. So I'm waiting--waiting far enough so that my knowledge of technology will allow me great power there. But I can't wait too long--they will have to have some established infrastructure for my plan to work. I can't mine iron ore with my bare hands! *OW* [[11031DH]] Dehumidifier ***BEUBLIN A. RICHARDSON*** Episode 5 by Frank Edward Nora Dialogue Improvised by the actors, with direction from Frank Edward Nora Peter Litkey as BEUBLIN A. RICHARDSON John Nora as ANTHONY NEURO INTERIOR--CLOSE-UP Close-up of Beublin with a film being projected onto his face. BEUBLIN What is creativity? Creativity is something rather unique. You might be asking yourself, what does he mean by 'unique'? What I mean is this, and it's quite simple--creativity is such a special gift that everyone has. But it all depends on how that person uses that gift. INTERIOR--OFFICE ANTHONY shakes two small bottles of Orangina, then bangs them together. BEUBLIN Hit it one more time, and then open it. ANTHONY hits the bottles one more time, and opens one of the bottles. BEUBLIN Anthony, you're probably wondering why I called you into the office. ANTHONY Yeah. BEUBLIN Um, I had to put up a hundred-and-ninety-million dollars bail for Horace Doom to get him out of jail, and that put a severe damper on my finances for the video. So I'm afraid that we're gonna have to put it off for now... ANTHONY Oh, Jesus Christ! BEUBLIN ...until all the money's back into place. ANTHONY There's been so much preparation, I'm just... I can't, y'know, there's been so much... I'm kinda in a state of shock. You know, I don't really know what to say. There's been so much preparation and, and we almost lost, uh, Hazy--she almost wanted to walk out. I got you these thinking foods, and I cut my hair, and... BEUBLIN Ah, just kidding! They caught him about a half and hour ago. They beat the SH*T outta him! BEUBLIN gets hyper and somewhat disoriented. BEUBLIN Anthony! You can do anything you want with this video, anything goes. No matter what it costs, I can foot the bill, no problem. This video is gonna be the BEST VIDEO EVER! I swear to you Anthony, it'll be the BEST! BEUBLIN makes a toast with his bottle. BEUBLIN Ahh... To life! Ahh... BEUBLIN drinks some Orangina. BEUBLIN So--aren't you happy? I'm ecstatic. This video--oh--I can't wait to start on it. Whatever you say, I'm telling you this is going to--oh oh--I'm like in ecstasy here. Oh, Anthony, oh god, this is better than Orangina and Cheyenne cookies! Oh god... ANTHONY I knew this video would be made by Beublin A. Richardson. BEUBLIN That is for SURE. INTERIOR--CLOSE-UP Close-up of Beublin with a film being projected onto his face. BEUBLIN Now, I think the way in which creativity evolves is very unique and very revolutionary. I think the reason why it's so revolutionary is because sometimes you're so overwhelmed with something that you are overtaken with awe at what you see and what you perceive. You see things in a spectacular light, and you try to, how should I say, appreciate it, and coincide, adding comments to make other people understand what you're saying. Because it's great to understand what you're seeing and all that, but you also want other people to know what's going on in your creative mind. Underline CREATIVE people. Creativity is very important and EVERYBODY HAS IT. INTERIOR--ROOM ANTHONY He's uh, probably, I think he's the most uh, visionary creative mind, uh, working today. And he, well, the special thing about him is he's so, he covers, he's not any, he's just a personality, he's a force, he's... He hasn't weighted himself down in any one genre of... any one artform... He does a little of everything, but it's not like it's, he's spread out... I mean, he's basically a creative mind. INTERIOR--CLOSE-UP Close-up of Beublin with the white light of a projector on his face. BEUBLIN Well, what is creativity? In a nutshell, creativity is an UNTAPPED RESOURCE. *OW* [[12031SA]] Severe Repair Almanac ***SYNOPSIS OF SEVERE REPAIR CHAPTER 9*** "Pattern Integrity" (13 pages) Fake Cerquaine pops a slay balloon, and a massive wave of destruction rolls over the countryside--her, Daptin Gone, and Jerald Hapal Hatch assume it's killed Cup's Club. The three then talk to Tavmatey Numblem, the trapped girl they can talk to through the cup. She reveals that the whole mission was a set-up and that they'd been deceived. Then Pattern Integrity enters the safe area (beyond which there's a gray cloud of devastation) and tries to get the Cup of Coffee. Jerald tries to shoot her with his machinegun--to no avail--and she then shoots him with an energy bolt. Pattern then approaches Daptin to take the Cup, but Daptin uses superstrength to knock Patterns head halfway off her body. Pattern disappears and then reappears unharmed, her Massive Assault Weapon pointed at Daptin's head. Coabler the Sawman then enters the scene, and Daptin eats some goodbye popcorn to get away. Pattern hits Fake with a truth blast and gets the whole story, as Cup's Club begin to regroup, all of them surviving the blast. * * * Daptin awake to find himself in a parking lot facing Ultra Occult Entity Obfuser, who informs him that he's been non-existent ever since he ate the popcorn, and that now he was at a point in time far after the end of the universe. After some discourse, Obfuser takes Daptin back in time to his apartment at Greatwall, and suggests he drink a little of the Coffee to rescue his friends. * * * As Cup's Club continues to regroup, they make a startling discovery--Tickle the Monster has been transformed into a little plastic toy version of himself! ***SYNOPSIS OF SEVERE REPAIR CHAPTER 10*** "Toggle Joseph" (14 pages) Several crewmembers of the Urbandersnacheron enjoy shore leave in a lovely forest. Bellicose Billion, Norlime Eckert, and Toggle Joseph are relaxing when Ow Muchy Moyar and Dandy Banish join them. They wonder about the whereabouts of two of their crewmates--Yaude Wireflape and Kove Splate. They figure they're probably in the monster house they heard of, so they set off to find it and play a practical joke on the two using Moyar's sleep and dream powers. Later, Norlime uses superstrength to quickly climb up a tree, where he spies an upwisp of smoke in the distance. He notes the location and jumps off the tree, landing unharmed due to his superstrength. To speed things up, the group has Joseph--the only one with a lot of superstrength left--uproot a tree for them to ride on as he runs along, carrying it. They do this, and soon they come upon a campfire, around which sit a family of monsters. The pirates join the monsters and offer to help them get Kove and Yaude out of their house--they're even willing to pay! *OW* [[13031SR]] Severe Repair SEVERE REPAIR 31: "Foreman Ittener Pier" I had a dream that I was at a party, and right at the beginning, there were these really important people--the ones who set the party up and everything, but they left right after the party started. For a little while we all wondered why they left, what we should do, when they'd be back, and all that. But soon several folks emerged as natural leaders, taking the place of the original ones. And we were all having such a good time, that we forgot all about the first ones. As time went on, the new leaders made elaborate plans for how the party would progress, ie, what games we would play, what music we'd listen to, etc. The party had been going for a real long time, and it seemed so well planned-out that we all felt we knew what was coming up--but then I heard a rumor that one of the original ones was back at the party. Then things began to go awry. Then more original ones had apparently returned. And it seemed that all our plans, so carefully laid out, were being tossed aside by the slightest whims of the original ones--they were the ones who started the party, and even after such a long absence, they still had utter control over it. And their return signaled something wild. I remembered that I was getting bored by the party, but when the original ones returned, the whole thing took a sharp turn and began to get incredible. I don't really remember what happened after that--but I think the replacement leaders got mad--and various factions began forming, and a fight was brewing. I think that's when I woke up--when they were asking me to choose sides and stuff. Weird dream. As I remembered it, I was slumped over on a little table. Stirring, I blinked my eyes and looked around--I was in the banquet hall in Stormbolthouse Leitmotif. And--and everyone else was unconscious--a few of them snoring. Other than that, it was totally silent. Across from me, I saw Baw Veppen also slumped over, who I'd been talking to before. Before what? I remembered sitting in the corner, talking Baw, and feeling generally unsure of what was going on. Zoipin Jurple Jupter came over and started talking to us, then he left, saying he was gonna try and gather some more information. I know Daptin left, but no one said anything about it. Then it was just me and Baw talking, and--and I don't know. I remembered talking about the varying levels of technology in Aconck, and about how space travel was a hoax, and stuff. But then--it must have hit us all suddenly, whatever made us all lose consciousness. So now I was the only one awake. I wondered what I should do--my mind was racing. I had a feeling something bad had happened. I started to stand up, but stopped midway as a wave of dizziness hit me. I used the table as support as I tried to stand. It was weird--it felt like something about the environment rather than an internal confusion. I was able to stand, but my inner ear was utterly confused as to what was up and what was down. I felt a little anti-motion-sickness superstrength kick in. Good thing. I took a few steps and then stopped, discouraged. So I tried another on my Overwhelm hung intrinsics. "80-C Clarity." I said. Things got a little better. The dizziness was still happening, but I was better able to separate the visual and inner ear data my brain was crunching. I took a few more tentative steps toward the ventral table, and then I saw some motion on a couch across the room. It was a hand, reaching up to the back of the couch, which was facing away from me. I froze for a second, assessing the possible danger. Habit, I guess, from the traditional royal combat training of my youth. But momentarily the person sat up, and I saw it was one of the crewmembers of the Urbandersnacheron--Hilltop Jone Rallity. Huh. In an instant, I recalled her from the time when we intercepted the galleon. She was one of the Primates I had only read about in the company newsletter. Sweet, innocent face. Tall--very tall--maybe a little taller than me, even. Well-built, wearing a brown and tan frock/dress/whatever sort of thing, with leather boots and a wide-brimmed tan hat. Her hair was somewhere between blond and red, and it flowed down over her shoulders in delightful curls. And in her mouth was a stalk of grass--the kind you chew on in youth. To complete the picture, a nice-lookin' rifle was slung across her back. Yeah, Fife might say he didn't--but he definitely designed his algorithm to choose only the most attractive women. And what's wrong with that? She gently rubbed her eyes and looked around the room, quickly finding me. "Whatever happened?" she said, looking at me. "Um, I don't know." I said, approaching her. She started getting up, but she sat back down, shaking her head. "Try 80-C." I said. She nodded her head. "80-C Clarity. Huh. That's a little better." I got to the couch and sat down next to her, glad to get off my feet. She looked at me with those wide blue eyes. "It never ends, does it?" I said. "Nuh-uh. Things just go from bad to worse these days." "Yeah. So okay--what do you remember?" "Uh, just listenin' to that Bith and that Kesh guy argue." I looked around. Bith was lying face down on the floor, looking awfully stiff. near him was a pile of green cloth. It made sense, I guessed--Kesh was really only a little tile, and he animated his clothes and stuff into a humanoid form. So he lost consciousness too. Interesting... "Yeah?" I said. "Yeah. And then... I don't rightly know. Then nothin'. That was it." "Yeah, me too. So something must have happened to knock us all out." She nodded, looking awfully confused. I bit my lip and looked around in thought. "Okay." I said. "We have to wake everyone up. Then we'll have to find our way to that hangar bay with all the Wavers and get out of here." "Okay." she said, starting to get up. "Yeah--so try to wake someone up." She got up and carefully walked through the dizziness over to where Ow Muchy Moyar was resting peaceful in a comfy chair. I knelt down and began shaking the large form of Bellicose Billion. "C'mon big guy. Wake up." I said. He grunted a little and turned over, but was no nearer consciousness. "Okay girl, rise and shine!" Hilltop said, but she was likewise getting nowhere. I let go of Billion and looked up at the girl. "Why do I have a feeling all the rest are gonna be equally uncooperative." "Uh-huh. I have that same feeling." I made a grimace and stood up. "Okay everyone!" I yelled. "Wake up! You have to wake up NOW!" A few people stirred a little, and a snorer briefly stopped, but otherwise it was no good. Hilltop threw up her hands and said with a smile of gentle resignation "Guess it's just you and me!" "Yup." I looked around some more, thinking, but I knew what had to be done. "Let's get to that hangar." I said. "Okay." Hilltop perkily responded, and she followed me as I headed for the big entranceway we had all entered by. We found the hangar quickly--it wasn't far from the banquet hall. "It's not so bad in here." Hilltop said. "No, you know what? It's not." And indeed, the feeling of disorientation was a lot less pronounced in the hangar bay. "So whatta we do--get inta wonna these skeeter thingies?" "I think so." I said. "Just hope we can figure out how to get it open." She nodded, and we approached the nearest Waver. I started looking it over, feeling along the rim of the cockpit window, when the thing suddenly began to open. "Guess it's automatic." I said. "You'd think." she said. "So, uh--Hilltop is it?" I asked, and she nodded. "Uh, I guess you know this may be dangerous and all, right? I mean, I know it's obvious and all, but I just..." "No--I know it. We have no idea what's out there. So no, uh--Ferrajalt?" she said, and I likewise nodded. "So no Ferrajalt--I know the risk. Everything in Overwhelm is a risk. We just have to take that one step over the line if we even hope to accomplish anything." "Yeah. So let's get in, and I don't even know what's gonna happen." She took a deep breath and followed me into the Waver. Shades of my first Warhome biplane flight with Treyess. (Wish I could forget all about her.) But the Waver had two totally separate seats, so no--Hilltop's ass was not right between my legs. Kinda wished it was but... no. I had to stop thinking with my dick! It was getting kind of outta hand. Hilltop Jone Rallity. QUEEN Hilltop Jone Rallity... Ah, forget it. There were more pressing matters at hand right now. Soon after we settled in--me in the front and Hilltop behind me--the hatch closed and the systems in the Waver came to life--fans, whirrs, buzzes, all that. Then we began to rise, and my stomach was full of adrenaline. "Here we go!" I said out of nervousness. "Yee-ha! Bring it on!" Hilltop said. Her bravado eased my fear a little. Just a little. An iris door turned open and the Waver headed for it. There was the gray of a storm beyond it, but that didn't tell us much. We flew through the artificial storm, and then broke out of it. We were over a sea, and a normal sun was shining high in a sky dotted with white clouds. I breathed a sigh of relief. And the dizziness was totally gone. Looking around, several things came to mind. First, this wasn't Daptin's Land, and second, the Greatcoat was back in Daptin's Land. Damn. I would have liked to have it right about then. I heard a beep from in front of me and looked down. The controls were similar Warhome controls--and from the vector display, I saw that the Waver was requesting that I take over on manual. I hit a flashing white button and took the control wheel. "It's all right?" Hilltop asked me. "Uh, yeah. I have control of it. Now let's turn around and see if the Leitmotif is okay." So I turned, and the enormous Stormbolthouse swung into view. It looked fine, as much of it as we could see through the stormcloud. "Looks okay." I said. "But maybe we should circle it. Maybe we'll see something." "Okay." So we made a wide circle around the gigantic vehicle, but we didn't see anything noteworthy. "Okay." I said. "Let me see if I can get this thing to show me a map--maybe there's land nearby. One thing's for sure, though--with a sky like that, you know we're not in Daptin's Land any more." "Well that's good, isn't it?" she said. "Huh?" "It's good--if we're not there, it must mean something else exists. SomePLACE else." "That's true." I said, fiddling with the controls, which finally gave me a map. "And looky here! A landmass nearby! Whattaya know!" "Well let's go!" Hilltop said. "Gotcha." I responded, and headed the Waver for land. Soon we were hugging the coastline, but something was wrong. While it was nearly featureless, the coast did have a few rocks and shrubs here and there. But what it was, the same pattern of rocks and vegetation kept showing up, repeating every half mile or so. It was as if we were scrolling over the same terrain over and over again. Inland was the same--a flat, dry wasteland with scattered shrubs and rocks. Then as I was watching the map on the vector display, I became aware that the same sequence of shore curvature was repeating. That's when I got a brief flash of panic--at the thought of being caught in an endless loop in such a place. Hilltop was leaning over her console looking down at mine, and then back at the shoreline. "You see what's happening?" I asked. "Yes sir, I do." "Doesn't look good, does it?" "No sir." "Yeah." I said, fiddling with some controls, trying to get some more speed out of the thing. I got it going a lot faster, but then a bell went off, and what looked like a live video picture of the Leitmotif appeared on the screen in front of me. "What the--" I said as I watched the video. The Leitmotif slowly turned, and then started forward, moving away from the camera. "They're leaving!?" Hilltop said, agitated. "Without us!?" "Let's not jump to--" I began, but then, as the Leitmotif got a little farther away, it began shifting colors to a dull orange, and then just began to fade away. It disappeared in rotating sections, getting fainter and fainter till all that was left was a bright, shining point of light. Soon, it too faded. "What was that?" Hilltop asked. "How'd it get that picture?" "I don't know." I said, checking the map--zooming it out for any sign of a flashing dot that would represent the Leitmotif. No luck. "I get a feeling this isn't good." Hilltop said. "Yeah honey, I get that feeling too." I said, kind of regretting using the word 'honey', kind of not. "Poppy told me I was headed for a horrible fate hooking up with you guys." Hilltop said. "Looks like he was right. TOO right." I turned around and faced the girl. "Look--I know things seem bad, but I have a feeling--I don't know--I just have a feeling that things are gonna turn out alright. I don't know--it just feels good to be away from all the others, away from Daptin, away from Injure. I mean--I felt cooped up in Daptin's Land--like we were all prisoners there. Now, for better or for worse, we're on our own. And--I don't know--at some level I think I'd prefer meeting doom on my own terms rather than living under someone else's thumb." Hilltop made a little smile, nodded, and laughed a little. "Well you have a point there boy." she said. "But how much of it is pure and how much of it is your royal high-and-mightiness?" I turned. She had a point. This was something I often contemplated--whether my need for freedom and independence, power and control, was from my inherent nature, or from my royal upbringing. "Who knows." I said. "But we haven't, in any way, established that we're stuck in some sort of loop yet. We just know that we're stuck now, for the time being. But we'll figure something out." "What do ya figger happened anyway?" Hilltop said as I continued playing with the map. "That Leitmotif thingy was above the Bay when we all got onto it. So what happened? They cross Daptin Bridge with all of us still on board?" "Yeah, it's funny--I was talking to Zoipin right before it happened--y'know--before we all fell asleep. He was saying how they were planning on doing it tomorrow and stuff--and I asked him if they were just gonna bring us all through--as a joke, y'know? But I mean--it looks like that's what they did. Bastards! Did you see Injure or Ann among the sleeping?" "No sir." "Yeah. I'm beginning to get the picture. And that goddamn Daptin split the scene right before it all happened." "Maybe our friend wasn't satisfied with the populace, and decided to start again from scratch?" "That's a wonderful thought. But I mean--you have to wonder. Did he make a pact with Injure and Ann to get rid of us all? To dump us in some rotten place like this?" "You'd kinda hope not." I looked back at Hilltop and saw she had another of those grass stalks in her mouth. "Where do you get those things?" I asked. "From home. I have a few in a little again cylinder." "A WHAT?" "An again cylinder. Spanking New Sarah gave it to me. I told her I was upset 'cause of how I only had a few stalks left from home. So she gave me this little feller..." She reached down and produced a little blue cylinder with a white cap. "...see now Ferrajalt--she had a BIGGER cylinder which all it did was make copies of these little ones. It had a little tab on the top--so I put the stalks in and broke the tab off--now, whenever I shut the cap, it'll recreate whatever was in there when it--y'know--when the tab was broken off. So--let me show you." She opened the cap, and dumped about half a dozen grass stalks on her console. "See?" she continued. "Empty. Now let me put the cap back on here, and..." She shut the cap, then opened it again, and darn if there wasn't another handful of stalks in there, exactly the same as the others. "Here," she said, handing me two of the stalks, "these are two that are the same." I took the two stalks and compared them--indeed, they were identical, down to the smallest detail. "Fascinating." I said. "But now--didn't you guys have some sort of object copier on the Urbander when you went through all that sh*t to get here, or rather, to Daptin's?" "Well yeah--but it was like--one of our machines malfunctioned in the state of reality that existed, and BECAME that way. A little time warp to be specific. You could just keep reaching back in time and grabbing the same thing over and over again. Maybe the cylinder uses the same principal." "Yeah." I said, starting to giver her back the stalks, then taking one and motioning it toward my mouth. "You mind?" "'Course not, silly. Got an infinite supply of 'em, after all!" "Thanks." I stuck the stalk in my mouth and began chewing at it nervously--we were going awful goddamn fast, and the terrain was still in a loop. I frowned and started to think. Zoipin had told me and Baw that someone spotted another Land from Daptin's Bridge. Like a little island in space, in the darkness. And I got to thinking--if this were indeed that place--that little island, then it was reacting to our motion by presenting a seamless repetition of the same land. But--what if we weren't moving? Might it have some features which couldn't be so seamlessly welded together in repetition? So I began to slow down. "Whatcha doin'?" Hilltop asked. "I was just thinking--our problem isn't that we're going too slow to get anywhere--it's that we're going too fast!" "Huh?" she said skeptically. "I don't know. Just let me try it out." I said, as I slowed the Waver down and descended toward the shore. Soon we were skimming the beach, and slowing to the point where we were hardly moving at all. Nothing changed, though. "Okay. Guess we may as well land." I said. "Uh-huh." So I did that, I landed, and we sat there for a few seconds, looking around. "Look any different to ya, Hilltop?" "Not really--uh--no wait Ferrajalt, what's that in the distance?" she said, pointing. I looked, and faintly saw something--some sort of structure of something, far up the beach, something going out into the sea. Damn good eyesight on that girl. "So we would have gotten to it if we kept going a little further?" she said with a little snicker. "I don't think so." I said. "I think the only reason we're with it is because I stopped." "Okay..." "Look Hilltop--just trust me on this." "Fine by me. So whatta we do now--walk?" "Uh--no. I think that if we go slow enough, and you keep your eyes peeled on that thing, we should be able to get there in the Waver." I eased forward on the throttle, and we began to move slowly forward--I tried to match the speed of walking, or maybe a little faster than that. The thing in the distance stayed in existence. So I sped up a little, and it was still there--I began to wonder if Hilltop might have been right--that I stopped just short of it--whatever IT might be. "Boy, let me tell you. I don't know what we're gonna find up there." Hilltop said softly. "But I'm with you--I'd rather go it alone than be with the onerous 45. Or rather, 43, minus you'n'me." "You know it." I said, speeding up ever so slightly. We were starting to get into range where we could just make out the thing ahead of us. It was definitely a pier of some sort, big, with a bunch of buildings on it. There wasn't anything inland from it, as far as I could see, though. Just the pier. Hmm. "So Hilltop." I said, seeking to change the subject to ease my apprehension. "I read in the newsletter that you were recruited only about six months ago." "That's right. Not even a yearling yet." "So what did you think of Overwhelm--before all this reality collapse crap happened, that is?" "Oh, I liked it. A whole bunch. I didn't take too kindly to people who let power go to their head--namely Captain Quids--but I can handle it. Folks pull that junk with me, it's just, 'fine, whatever you want, any way you want it'--lull'em into a false sense of security, y'know? Then--and it always happens--you get'em by the--excuse the term--by the balls, and then you can freak on 'em but good and they can't do nuthin' to ya. I love that." "So it's true about Ky Ly--the way she is and all?" "Ho, yeah! You don't know the half of it. She's a little monster, she is. Tortured a guy to death for peeking on her taking a bath. Nasty kinda torture too." Hilltop said, shivering. "Yeah, she seems so bright and perky all the time--but that dark interior shows through a little, I hafta say." "You got that right." "So how'd you deal with her?" "Oh, all the Primates and her had a sort of agreement. Basically, she leaves us alone and we don't kick her ass. Oh, and also we don't interfere between her and her crew. Not that there was a crew for long after the torture/death incident--they all split." "Huh." "Yup. A real mess on that pirate ship. I know I ain't goin' back, no siree." "I don't blame you. Sucks, doesn't it, that all this happened. I liked being a Primate." "Me too, me too." "Hmm." I said, looking at the pier, just about able to make out some signs now. "Looks like we really got something here." "The cutting edge." "I hear ya." Yeah, I could see it now. Definitely an amusement pier--similar to Hay-Hengren. But I couldn't see--at least it didn't seem like the pier was connected directly to the shore. It looked like it should have been connected to a boardwalk, but there was none. "So Ferrajalt--you ready for trouble?" "Always." "Bring 'em on!" I could tell Hilltop was real nervous. So was I. I mean, there was no experience to base this on--we were somewhere well beyond the outer fringes of our usual sphere of activity. Going to a pier--a f*cked-up, who-knows-what pier. "Alright," I said, "I guess we're gonna hafta land up on the pier." "Yeah?" "Yeah. So let me ease 'er up..." I increased the speed and altitude of the Waver, and soon we were on our final approach to the pier. That was when we saw that there were people there. "Life!" Hilltop said. "I see 'em." I said as I slowed for the landing, and then gently put the Waver down at the end of the pier, facing an entrance arch/fence with these words across it... FOREMAN ITTENER PIER "Who's Foreman Ittener?" Hilltop said. "The guy this pier's named after." "Hey! How do ya know it's a guy? It could be a female foreman after all." "Wouldn't that be 'forewoman' or 'foreperson'?" "Ah, don't get technical with me. When I'm right, I'm right, and I don't wanna hear any differnt." "Gotcha." I pushed up on the canopy above us--I didn't really know the control to open it--but it responded and swung open. "Okay," I said, "first thing we gotta do is see if there's a Stormbolthouse-model matter handler on this stupid thing. I have a feeling it might be our only ticket out of here--using it to weave another Stormbolthouse." "You really think? That thing is awful big." "Yeah--but think about it--all the matter it takes up would be a small chunk out of a mountain." "Guess you're right." "Yeah--so check behind you--maybe there's a panel behind your seat? That's where they are on the Warhome biplanes." "Lemme see." Hilltop said, folding her seat forward. "Definitely something back here--aha!" She pulled out a matter handler, very similar in design to the Warhome ones. "Here." she said, handing the device to me. "Thanks." I said, finding a little handle, and holding the matter handler like a briefcase, which it could almost pass for. "Okay." I said. "There's no guarantee we'll ever see this Waver again, so if you have anything in it..." "Nope. Nuthin'." "Good." I said, turning toward the gate. "In that case, let's go meet our new friends." "Lead on." *OW* [[14031CN]] Contents of OsoaWeek031, January 26, 1995 BEGIN 01 031 CV--Cover 02 031 HR--Hemisinister Review 03 031 HT--Halfevil Times 04 031 ZP--Zope 05 031 CZ--Classic Zope 06 031 LA--Lord of Obliviana 07 031 NH--Nihilistica 08 031 OL--Obliviana Primal 09 031 AB--Antebellum 10 031 SU--Superior 11 031 DH--Dehumidifier 12 031 SA--Severe Repair Almanac 13 031 SR--Severe Repair 14 031 CN--Contents END *OW* [[END031OW]] -------> ------------------- ----------- -------- -- -----