Text File

[ Copyright by Hobbit, for entertainment purposes only. Any being found attempting to misconstrue the following for any purpose will meet the usual horrible writhing messy fate. _H* ]

Zippyism: I was making donuts, and now I'm on a bus! Oil leak: Turns out it was the pressure-gauge tit on *top* of the drive... Record: I broke 60K characters!! Hafta shoot for 100K next time. Subject: And finally, we hear about Unicon...

Incredibly enough, the event logger dump itself was over 40K characters. What follows is pieces thereof with appropriate explanations to put them in context. First of all, it must be understood that Unicon was, yes, yet another science fiction convention; one of those deals where a bunch of weirdos takes over a hotel and goes nuts for the weekend. As it turned out we didn't do *anything* *remotely* related to sf the entire time.

Most of the original dump is included; only meaningless non-context chunks were taken out. Also, it is sometimes difficult to tell who said what against the background noise. If someone sees something attributed to them that was said by someone else, send in corrections if appropriate, but don't flame at me. I didn't have my stack of signal-processing hardware handy so I could mask it out. Anyone wishing to hear the original is invited to make appropriate arrangements for auditions, but the tapes do not leave my posession.

The trip there was reasonably interesting: We took our two StudLy TrUckS down, connected by CB's tuned to channel -- what else?!?? -- 32. A nice number... mg rode with Bandy, and I was alone until we got out to some crazy place bordering the piney woods of Jersey, where we picked up Hippie [aka Louise StRomain for those of you who *might* know her]. Thus distributed, we set off southward for DC [Silver Spring, really]. The ride was uneventful, and hot, except for some random lossage that I was experiencing with my fuel supply. Apparently I had picked up some dirty gas on the T-pike, and it had temporarily gummed up my carburetor, so that when I tried to go to emergency warp all I got was silly hesitation and barfage. When we finally got there I looked underneath the ST6 and noticed that everything had a fine spray of oil spread all over it. Eccch, and moby lossage! I feared the worst, and envisioned myself pulling out pistons and replacing rear main seals and all kinds of mean nasty ugly horrible things. But I decided to leave the whole mess parked on a side street for the rest of the weekend and not worry about it till Sunday, which is what I did. Fuck it.

Therefore we collected our various belongings, went to the hotel, and found our room. We immediately bumped into Don, who immediately gave the rest of us the fifty-cent tour of the roof and its associated facilities because he had been there all day, bored, and having nothing to do but research the layout. Armed with this overview and the ''funny'' key we had collectively found, we finally went down to deal with the rest of the con. I didn't start logging right away [I should have!!], so it wasn't until this point that any mnemonic audio was captured.

[*Event logger: Hobbit: Captain's log, stardate 840720.2041: Unicon follows.

[Renaissance dance music or something in background, ends]

Drexler: Don't mess with the elevators, okay, because when the elevators don't work fans have to take the stairs, and they get cranky. Hobbit: I wasn't planning to - why are you pre-accusing *me* of fucking up the elevators? There's 8M other people here perfectly capable of fucking up the elevators just as easily.]

Marc Drexler [what the hell is his network address, anyways?!] apparently fell victim to the rather mild elevator hacking done at Disclave, or heard some discussion thereof; and figured that I would be completely responsible for any and all VTS lossage during the next three days. Feh. Well, the elevators were reasonably stable all weekend, and they also had the 0 panic timeout, so people were getting chewed right and left [see below].

[Event logger: Woman: Hello, I recognize your voice but not your face; besides, you're fuzzy. [Musta been to someone else] Bandy: Oh. Well that's true. But I'm fuzzy anyway. Woman: Oh hello, I hear you're having a Bandykins meeting. Have you gotten over that? Bandy: Actually, yes. At least I think I have. and- and she's actually very close to here; I was thinking of giving her a call and saying Ha Ha, Bitch. Woman: I shoulda brought my T shirt that says ''I'm a nice person, trying to be vicious, cruel, mean and nasty... is it okay if I practice on you?'' ... Vax hacker .. are you systems, or --? Hobbit: Well, basically. Bandy: VMS, though. [chuckle] Woman: *VMS*, uggh... Random: I'll settle for that, though.. try Univac!]

Bandy, I forgot who she was again [having left the modified copy of the dump in Hoboken]. But she seemed to have some dim idea of what BandyKin was all about ... someone fill in these details if they know!!

[Event logger: Random [discussing BandyKin]: There's enough junk on *Usenet*, you shouldn't *breed* it. The arpanet used to be a place for relatively rational discourse... Hobbit: Come on, there's been enough cruft all over the Arpanet for years.]

Bandy, this might have been the guy you asked me about, but I didn't catch the part you had thought of. He was pretty random, I thought...

[Event logger: Random Large Person [sitting with Hippie in the hall]: We were discussing why the military *sucks*. Bandy: Why our implementation of it sucks, or if ... our implementation .. RLP[swHith] [Interrupting him]: I was about to go into the tale of the F-15, or 16, I've forgotten which one it was. This was a super-duper, highly expensive, brand-new experimental plane.. oh, gee, it could fly rings around the old F-8, or was it the F-6, but anyway. Oh, it could do Hippie [overlaying]: ... and it *died*. RLP: ...until they finally got around to flying it under combat conditions. You generally are flying in a *squadron*. There are friendly planes and unfriendly planes, right? Every plane in the sky is not automatically a target, right? The minute this plane had to stop and identify friend or foe, its performance *dropped* below that of the standard plane. Hobbit: How do you *stop* a plane?]

I didn't really see much of Hippie once we set her loose in the con. She'd occasionally show up in the con suite, because she was supposed to be working there. But thus things usually go at these affairs; all of us were wandering hither and yon, and when we weren't exploring, were just talking to all kinds of random people, and seldom about anything concerning science fiction!

[Event logger: Random: Have you seen Ziggy recently? Hobbit: Ziggy? Random: Ziggy, the comic strip. They had one, which I didn't clip out, but I wish I did. They had a salesman showing him a book, and saying ''it's about the struggle of man against machine.'' the title was ''Moby Disk''. Bandy and Hobbit: Hneef! Hneef!! Haw! yow! Random: I wonder if they realized what they were doing... ]

We should have made a QOTH out of this! It seemed terribly hilarious at the time.

Okay, so you wanted elevator games? We couldn't let the con go by without a *little* of it.

Event logger: Hobbit: Gee, these elevators also have a null panic timeout, like at Disclave. Large furry random [outside]: Going up!! Elevator, trying to close: **B*L*A*M**!!! [Pause, while random attempts to force doors open] Hobbit: **Deadlock!!** Random: Eeeaauurrghh!! [Pulls doors open again]]

We also spent some of our time in the room playing with the toys we all had brought along. This included security devices and random chemicals...

[Event logger: Rehmi [playing with Simplex lock]: We have to take this thing apart later. Bandy [to Don]: So, have they hit you yet? Don: *Bandy*, they hit me .... ah - within maybe 15 or 20 minutes. Bandy [holding up his red camera strap]: You like that? Don: *Yes*. really bright - I close my eyes, and they're still there. Meesh: >Click< Hobbit: Did you just open that thing? Meesh: I don't know! Hobbit: You just *did*. Do you remember what you did? Meesh: no... shit! I did open it, didn't I? mg: The worst thing I had to do when I was tripping was prevent the cops from towing my car. Meesh: You're not what I expected. Hobbit: What did you expect? [Long silence] Hobbit: I guess you didn't expect anything. Meesh: No, I remember what I said! Hobbit: Some AI application running on a machine somewhere, that didn't go to cons at all? Meesh: I - I - thought you'd be a little less outgoing. [This one had me baffled, too... I attribute it to a bleented Meesh.] Don [for no apparent reason]: *Scream* Hobbit: Eeeauugh, stomp on me harder!!]

It can be seen that discussion was generally pretty random and discontinuous all weekend. Such things occured often during the three days -- but that, after all, is what an event logger is for!

[Event logger: [While skateboarding to the truck to recover the Riemerschmidt] Hobbit: On the road again... Eeuugh, fuck me, the light changed! [swoosh swoosh swoosh screech hiss..]

[In stairwell] Hobbit [to EVL]: These stairs are neat. We *must* disable that pressure mat upstairs...]

We seriously thought we had found an alarmed pressure mat outside a door labeled ''Boiler Room'' at the very top of the highest stairwell, because it was duct taped to the floor and looked like it had a wire running from it downstairs. Never trust anything with duct tape on it?? Anyway, it was discovered later [*not* the hard way] that it was just a piece of rug that someone had taped to the floor to prevent the grunts from kicking it down the stairs.

We tried to cons up some recruits.

[Event logger: [In con suite, funny lemonade fountains in the background] Random: Who wants to start a game, any game, FRP, tactical, D&D, ... ? Hobbit: Did you ever play Roof Exploration? Random: Uh oh. Hippie: He plays *nasty* games. Hobbit: They have the perfect playing area around here.]

And after that more or less failed, I turned my attention to the Sphere of Influence problem. Don was in the room, at that point reaching the peak of his fungus-induced journey to the nether regions.

[Event logger: [In room; Hobbit with the door lock spread out all over the desk, Don crashed and moaning weakly on the bed] Hobbit: Hmm, okay so let's use the split of this and the pin of that... oh fuck me, this is a weird blank. Don: What time is it? Hobbit: 9:27. [Tinker tinker] Don: What time is it? Hobbit: 9:27. [fix fiddle frob] Don: What time is it? Hobbit: 9:27. [Doink!] oh fuck me, where did that spring go??!?!]

I spent a while hacking around with this thing, primarily because I couldn't make a decision which piece to use where for making my attempted security disabler. Finally I came up with something, and with tired fingers covered with brass flakes, put it all back together and went to see what I had wrought.

[Event logger: [Later, after Don had moved to the con suite] Hobbit: *Gah*.... this fucking clock, is *wrong*! Timestamp is 23:59... [Clang!] Hmm, there is a set-mode access thru this small hole...

Hobbit [In fire stairs]: Fuck me *harder*... with a *cucumber*.. it doesn't **work**... eeuugh! Official report: Experiment failed.]

It was a small disappointment; I didn't expect too much from taking down just one of the things. At least I had an extra key to the room. So I punted the idea and went forth to find life in other possibly inhabited regions. I made a beeline for where Mr. Tank had last been spotted...

[Event logger: Hobbit [Pounding on 909]: It's meeeee! Eric [HS random]: Yeeees? Hobbit: What's happenin'? Eric: Nothing. Come in anyway. Hobbit: Is Bandy here? Eric: Everyone else went to cruise. Hobbit: So, did you get to yak at the girls next door? Eric: Some dickhead said ''get th--'' no, just ''Leave!'' Kenny ran, I walked.. Kenny: Ran??! Eric: You walked rather quickly..

Hobbit [spotting the Girls Next Door]: !!Zounds!!]

They were indeed rather cute, and sufficiently anorexic. They didn't show their faces in the outside world too much, though. I gave up on the 9th floor in general and went back downstairs. I found Hippie in the con suite, and immediately got myself ''volunteered'' for goods transportation duty.

[Event logger: [In kitchen, after getting drafted for Ice Duty] Hippie: You're going to put that in the crate, right? Manager: It would be a nice touch. Hobbit [running some packing algorithms]: Hey, we coulda gotten eight or ten crates on there. Gak, the things are dirty. Hippie: Yeah, you noticed! They smell funny, too, don't they. Hobbit: Yow, is this the official kitchen? Manager: Well, this is the banquet kitchen, where they do all the cooking for big banquets and things. Hippie: Ah. Hobbit: Oh. They're not having a banquet this week, are they. Oh well. Hippie: Aww. Poor child. Heh heh heh.]

Well, I was *hungry* again! And such banquets usually have *lots* of tasty leftovers. The night manager who let us into the kitchen was about the only staffer in the entire place at night. Security, as you would ordinarily expect it, was just about nil, which was just fine with the general congoing crowd. The atmosphere was really relaxed and trusting all weekend, and as far as I could tell, no one abused it. Failing the banquet facilities, I went back to the con suite to munch out some more. We delivered the ice, in these funny plastic buckets that didn't look all that clean. Half of it got dumped into the bathtub with the juice jugs, and the other half became generaly available.

[Event logger: Bandy [having discovered the jalapenos]: We could take Liz's suggestion about peppers, and MLY? Hobbit: !!There's Don!! Yowie, he's awake! Hippie: *Scream* Don: Hello... I have some .. Bandy: Haagen-Dazs! Don: Well, I jsr'ed outside.. Bandy: Anyway, hobbit. So, are we going to journey, or what? Hobbit: Yeah, a capital idea. Don: Let's find out if you can eat ... *ice cream* with chopsticks. Bandy: You can. MLY ate a quart that way. Hobbit: *Bandy*, those things induce brain rot! Bandy: Brain damage is good for you. Haven't you ever read MC:HUMOR; BRAIN DAMAGE? [I since have, and remain unconvinced. Maybe sheep would be into it.] Don: Jim emphatically denies that you were ever in his room. Hobbit: ???? Don: You and I entered the room .. and then I .. Hobbit: And then you left! Don: He denies that you were with me. Actually, I figured out what was wrong. I had to take a piss. All: Hilk! Hilk! [That *gorgeous* woman who was at Disclave walked in, accompanying some large male random with a cat on his shoulder - yes, a *real* HTK cat.] Hobbit: I wish *my* cat would sit on *my* shoulder without trying to leave. Hobbit [internally]: I wish *she* would sit on *my* face and never leave. Hobbit [To Don]: Look, it's a *shroom*. [Gulp] This ice cream is *so* **generic**. Cindy: Aww, poor Hobbit. Bandy: ^S. [Pause] Hobbit: Bandy! Process HOBBIT wants to type out!!]

Aforementioned gorgeous woman was indeed at Disclave. How come none of the rest of you ['cept mg] noticed her? A really outstanding specimen. She was the one in the red felt hat [round top, wide brim] with the box [strange semi-futuristic-punk] with the green LED's [only I would notice something like that, right?]. Her room was on the first floor at Disclave, off the north end of the pool; which is why I kept drifting up thataway. Trouble was, the large random with the cat didn't look especially ready to set her free ... but life's a bitch, right? I hope she attends lots of cons.

[Event logger: [On the way to the room] Hobbit: [random drive unit sound effects] Don: Do you find yourself interrupted constantly by reality? Hobbit: Yes. Don: Where did Rehmi go? Bandy: Rimey? Hobbit: Grimey? Don: *Rehmi*. bandy: Do Re Mi? Hobbit: *>Screeeech<* [stopping in front of room door] Don: Nobody was there last time I knocked. Hobbit: That's all right, somewhere in here ... will you stop flicking that shit on me?! Oh, lossage. [*Thud*] Gak, it *bent* - damn near broke! Truly luusing room keys.]

The room key twisted clean off, leaving just a little bit with which I could pull the wreckage out of the lock. The front desk did replace it without any questions the next day. I guess they break all the time. The keys are rather poorly made, with those immense handles, and considering that a lot of random often intoxicated people frequent hotels in general ... they go through a lot of room keys per month, I would imagine.

Our journey to the room was not without purpose. We were going to find some nether regions ourselves...

[Event logger: [While bleented] Don: We have to make some teeth, and tape them to the inside of the doors. We get paper labels, and make triangles out of them, and stick them on the black safety bars, so they come out when the doors close. It severely fucks with peoples' heads; there was this girl with a bag of chocolate chip cookies, *running* for the elevator, and the doors are closing, like this.. and it -- she trips, the cookies go into the elevator, and she doesn't!! Then it goes - mm - *Buurp!* All: Haw! Haw! Haw! Don [explaining his earlier state of mind]: Everyone on the *left*, were all cops, pretending to be *fans*. And everybody over *there*, were all *hippies*, pretending to be fans. And I was stuck in the middle, thinking ''what am I doing here?!'' ... and I kept hallucinating that this nostril was bleeding. I went to the movies and they said they were closed - or something. I was at a *different* convention! Bandy: I was told once, by this guy at work, that I shared a lot of stuff with them, even though I didn't. And I sort of did my own thing and really did my own thing, rather than doing my own thing which is doing my own thing that was the right thing to do. Don: To the left were *vegetables*, and over there was ice cream; two diametrically opposing substances. And there were people over here eating the vegetables, and there were people who were eating ice creams. And the people who were eating the ice cream - - they - well, they weren't *aware* of the people who were eating vegetables! And vice versa. Hobbit: I was aware of both, because I was eating both! [Munchiiiiies] Outside ambience: *Flash* Bandy: Yes, it was lightning. Hobbit: Good, it'll cool the air off.. Bandy: Well, it'll be really humid tomorrow, because it'll all be evaporating. Don: Human? Bandy: Humid. Don [explaining the details of his ice cream purchase, minus spoon]: Well, that's why I have fingers! And there's this black guy, and a couple of other black guys, and from $2 I got a penny as change. Then I went looking for machines that took pennies, in the gum machines, and there weren't any. The couple of black guys were like ''you wanna penny? Sure, here have a penny.'' But ... I dropped the penny, and then I was explaining to him how it became part of the floor. All: Hee Hilk Haw *Choke* Bandy: [Don's a lot more fun when you're high.]]

... as we all could confirm. Especially if we were all in such a state that the mere *mention* of a porta-potty was enough to set off more gales of mirth!!

[Event logger: Hobbit: The obnoxious drunk guy was *in* the porta-potty? Don: no, th -- Hobbit: Or the *other* porta-potty? Don: Oh, I haven't told you about the *other* porta-potty yet!

Don: What is white with a black asshole? All: ??!?! Don: The A Team.

Don: How did you get down here? Bandy: We drove our trucks. You remember my little white truck? You remember that night? Don: Oh yeah! I remember the night ... Bandy brakes! We had the little window open, and it had been raining. Bandy had the tarp over the back, which allowed the water to collect. Whoosh!!!]

At one point we clustered around the window, looking like some bunch of stooges, staring out at the rain and the law enforcement vehicle that had stopped a car on the street.

[Event logger: Bandy: Oh yes, it's raining, that's why the cop car looks so *good*. mg: I have not seen a roof light like that, for a long time. Hobbit: You only see those in discos anymore. Bandy: Oh, those are good roof lights. I prefer those to ... blink blink ... blink ... blinkblink ... blink ... mg: Look on the ground.. next to what looks like a newsstand, or a mailbox. Bandy: What, the white dots? Hobbit: They're plates, paper plates. mg: No, I see the plates ... that thing's a trash can. Bandy: Yeah. Don: So? Hobbit: yeah? mg: It looked like a varsity jacket.

[I was attempting to describe the advantages of posessing an event logger to Don.] Hobbit: You *need* one of these! Don: It might be dangerous. Hobbit: Uh-uh, just save the tapes in your private collection. Don: I'd be afraid to listen to them.

mg: No, I just walked up to a lisp machine, and typed Hyper-space. And it went ''better engage warp drive first''. Bandy: Oh! Maybe someone had that as a cute hack in their lispm init file.

Hobbit: Ooh. Hyperdrive might not be discovered until everyone makes peace with the Russkies. mg: How long do you think that will take? Don: At least another two hours... Hobbit: I don't see it happening in my lifetime. Bandy: Everybody needs an enemy... Hobbit: Dammit, I wish it was here. Don: What are you looking for? Hobbit: Hyperdrive! mg: So you can get your ass out of this mess. Well, we're gonna have to, or we're gonna drown in our own shit. Seriously! We're poisoning our environment, and there ain't gonna much left..

Don [investigating the mold in the air conditioner]: Oh, it's fighting back! They're quite interesting ... multilevel, slightly gelatinous. Hobbit: Who's fighting back? Bandy: Don, keep your hands *outa* there. Don: Pretty interesting! Bandy: Go wash your hands.]

Bandy and I have kicked around the idea of getting together with our various methods of event logging and making audiovisual slides. He suddenly grabbed his camera and we started doing some realtime correlation.

[Event logger: Hobbit [re: Bandy]: Hup - there he goes, he's going to take the *long* shot, first, say, this is what it would have looked like if he just walked in the door. [kachunk!] Bandy [messing with camera]: Shit. [futz fix frob] Hobbit: This is realtime, Bandy. This is realtime! This is the kinda shit we should tape all the time, with audiovisual. [*Kachunk!*] Can you imagine videotapes of us, played back -- like -- Don [holding his breath]: Backwards! Hobbit: like 4 years later, and ... Bandy: [Kachunk!] Don: I was ... must have ... quit that! Hobbit: Gak -- gak Hee hee hee! Bandy: [<*Kachunk*>] Hobbit: He looks like - please, no more tourism! [Kachunk!] Don: Oh, let me take my clothes off here... Bandy: <Kachunk!> Door: *Thud* Rehmi: Hello... Bandy: Who am I here with? Rehmi: What happened to this? Hobbit: It busted when I tried to open the door.]

The rest of the evening trailed off into really random discussion without much point to it, and somehow a box of donuts found its way into the picture. Eventually we all crashed, and about the last thing I noticed was that the tape had bottomed long since ...

-- Part 2 -- [hey, somebody change the tape!]

We headed out for breakfast at the nearest Chinese restaurant, which had been recommended in the pocket con program. It didn't turn out quite that way. When our orders were taken, there was some question between the staff and Meesh's relation to the rest of us.

[Event logger: Rehmi: Hi mommy! Don [slyly]: Is there ... uh .. something that I didn't *know* was going on? Bandy: Our waiter just informed us that that is our mother. [Generalized hee hee!] Meesh: You'd be surprised what strange things crawl into the office looking for me.... Bandy: Oh, I see ... ''Mommy!'' Meesh: Like that other day, when Scott came in and said ''Hi Mac!'' ''Howya doin', mac?'' - about 23 times, and Roger just looked at him: ''Tee hee!'' ...

Meesh: ...pseudo-ttys. I mean, if you were going to have real ones made, wouldn't you have 'em made bigger than that [holding up front of shirt]? Bandy: But - all I ever hear from women who have larger breasts, they are always bitching.]

Previous section submitted uncut and without comment. As a matter of fact, most of the EVL stuff is uncut. The larger part of two full tapes is in here somewhere... Anyway, more random unstructured conversation took place while we were scarfing down these *vastly* *inferior* ravs.

[Event logger: Don: I walked down to about McDonald's... Bandy: I could have stayed with you guys! Don: I was going to call up the room you were in, and tell you that there was a city out there.

Meesh: ...and said okay, this should be enough M1 cycles to wait for to grab the bus. Unfortunately, we didn't try the extended opcodes which don't work that way, so when we used extended opcodes, we'd grab the bus at the wrong time, and it went bonkers! Now how long do you think it took us to find the problem? Bandy: I never ran into that problem. I essentially ran CP/M on the thing, and was running PL/Clisp, which has all the extended instructions.

Meesh [at 1400]: I am not a woman.

Meesh: It's called goldstone. Bandy: ''A wise man knows everything; a shrewd one, everybody -- between the sheets.'']

Don introduced us to the somewhat weird trick of blowing compressed-air steam out the mouth. Now who else would come up with something like this??

[Event logger: Hobbit: What in hell is he *doing*? Don: Well, it's sometimes unreliable. Hobbit: How do you generate the smoke? Don: No, it didn't work. Bandy: Life's a bitch. Don: Actually I have a cigarette implanted in my nostril. Hobbit: That's *strange*...

Hobbit: Now, Don will attempt to pass himself *through* the rubber band, entirely... Don: Eugh! [Subsequent rubber band fight on the way back to the hotel]]

We returned to find other people gradually coming to life.

[Event logger: [Con suite] Hippie: Hi. How are you. Come over here and sit down and be sociable. Hobbit: [Drafted again!] Hippie: Here: sit down.. right here. Sit. Sit! Down! Sit!! **Down**!! Hobbit: ... as she aims me *away* from the chair... Hippie: Well, I'm *sitting* in the chair. Hobbit: Well what good are you? Hippie: Did you get a ticket on your truck yet? Hobbit: No, why, did I? They said it was good for the whole weekend.]

I bumped into someone who claimed to be a good friend of CStacy, and 'lowed as to how he was a difficult person to hold a conversation with.

[Event logger: Hobbit: Last time I was up there and tried to talk to him, he was quite uncommunicative. Kath: Who, Chris? Yeah, he's pretty -- um, introverted sometimes. He's shy, very shy. Hobbit: He talks best to lisp machines, not people. Kath: Well, he's talked to people -- he used to be a disk jockey. He used to work for WBL before it went country. Hobbit: What do the Tolkienesque runes signify? Kath: Kath. It's Kenyah. Hobbit: The language? Kath: Well, high Elvish. Hobbit: Ah. You need a badge inscribed in silvery stone...]

Don came in and was discussing his previous evening's adventures with the construction site and its resident porta-potties.

[Event logger: Don: I went down and there are storm drains things. Hobbit: I found a couple of service passages, it looks like ...[obscured] Hobbit: We'll take him on the ten dollar tour. Don: Yes. Yes. I think I found the ten dollar tour over there. Random: Where? Hobbit: In the construction site. Random: But -- Don: Ah - it's pretty safe.]

I found a communications node and got hold of MGrant, who decided to blow off studying and come join our merry band. Subsequent stuff, at least until night fell and it was dark enough to vad, was fairly meaningless and mixed with Dr. Who excerpts.

[Event logger: MGrant: Well, I knocked on the door of 620, and they said ''Hobbit? Is that a male or a female?'' Hobbit: What does this stairwell smell like? Don: Must? MGrant: Must --? Hobbit: I thought it smelled vaguely like nitrous.]

Don then brought out the explosives. To avoid detection by outside agencies, Don bit the tips off the rockets before launch so they wouldn't go boom. Some of them had rather flakey fuses...

[Event logger: Hobbit: Those things are great. Don: Go! Go! Bottle rocket: *Swish!!* mg: I don't want to be seen and photographed by this window. Don: Oh yes - there's the FBI out there.]

MGrant and I went on a small vad out in the multilevel parking lot, and found a way into the C&P Telephone building which was the large gold glass thing adjoining the hotel. On the sixth level of the fire stairs the door was open. We checked all the other levels, and then MGrant positioned himself a half-level down from me, and I opened the door, heard a click, looked up, and saw the magnetic switch hanging there. We thereupon did what we were prepared to do: slam it and run like hell. We decided to leave C&P alone for the duration.

Later on we adjourned to McDeath, and indulged in large quantities of Chicken Frobs and the usual other things.

[Event logger: Hobbit: ...so C&P Tel left one of their exits open, so they're relying on the alarm for security.

Hobbit: So how come you wimped out at a box of nine? Don: Oh. Um - [obscured by somewhat primitive-sounding background conversation] ... flavoring for my frobs. Bandy: You got all the flavorings for frobs?

[Don, concerning some old SF series on TV] Don: ...started terrorizing Steve Austin. Finally they figured out Hey Man, if we grab this with a chopper and lift it up a few thousand feet, because they got such high pressure inside because they got pressurized from Venus, it'll blow up! ... and it worked. Bandy: So how did they get through the vacuum? Don: That's what *I* was wondering. I mean, if they couldn't fool an eight-year-old, which I was at the time...

[Concerning various ways to zap yourself but good with a flourescent tube] Hobbit: Whadd' he do, hold one end and touch the other one to some HV source? [Munch! Munch!] ... held it up to where? Bandy: In the air around the high voltage end. MGrant: Oh yeah there was this ham in town, who damn near got killed doing that from his transmitter. Hobbit: Yow, RF burns right thru the hands. mg: You can do that around power lines. The reason that works is because the electric field ... the differential across just the length of the tube. Don: Does anyone have any unused ketchup? Hobbit: But if that was anything like dangerous, the farmer below would get zapped every time he climbed onto his tractor, sitting there on its rubber tires. MGrant: That's been known to happen. There was this guy with this metal roof - he went up on his roof and got electrocuted.

[Concerning nonstandard sewage treatment] mg: ... the waste disposal plant in an aircraft, in, like, a jetliner fucked up, and it dumped the contents of the latrine, which was frozen by now. It landed on this guy's roof and crashed through it. All: Yar har! mg: And the pun someone thought up about it was that it was an ICBM. All: Hee hi ho hoo!

Hobbit: So why doesn't the shuttle shitter work? Rehmi[?]: Well, a number of things... people try to use it and the shit will hit the fan and *bounce back* at them... All: yecch! Har har Rehmi: So wiping your ass is a big job!]

When we were all starch-sated, we took all the remains and placed them in a cup. From here, the resultant mixture was transferred to a plastic Ronald McDonald puppet we found laying around on the floor.

Event logger: Hobbit: Okay, what *did* go in here? Hot mustard, pepper, one straw, half-n- half, eugh! That's the rest of the old one... a little salt to harden the arteries... mg: Okay, if somebody gives me twenty dollars I'll drink that. Don: I think it's worth it, come on, split it up 5 ways... $4 each. Bandy: Some of the milk is curdling! Hobbit: yeah, this carton was full of some disgusting particles or something.

Hobbit: Ah, make it a float. *Now* it's undrinkable! Don: Heugh, heugh! All: Eeugh!

[Return from McDeath. Hobbit is jumping parking meters.] Hobbit: Zeeeooo! Bandy: Now, if you stopped in midair... Hobbit: Someone I knew tried to do a double like that, and landed in the middle. All: Euugh!

We found our way back the hotel and prepared to embark on our planned jaunt next door. I had not an hour ago found a neat way to get to it without going near the street; it was through a seldom-used set of fire stairs that later revealed its own interesting set of secrets.

[Event logger: [Construction site] Hobbit: Is Bandy up there? Bandy: Here I am. [Shuffle, Tunk!! as someone kicks a 2x4] Hobbit: Eugh!

MGrant [in reference to the workmen]: Commoners! Hobbit [holding up some tool or other with silver wrapping]: Yes, but they like duct tape, so they can't be all bad.

Hobbit [sloshing through some deepish gunk on the floor]: You know what this muck feels like, squishing up between the toes... MGrant: Don, go that way. Hobbit: [obscured] ...slanted floors! Are these supposed to lead to the street?

[It was indeed intended to be a parking area with ramps to drive out. But the hole we had found was apparently for *very* compact cars... We then climbed up something like ten flights of stairs.] Hobbit: Hey, Don! Um, it's oxygen. Lotta tanks here. Don: To get to the top, we go up here. Hobbit: Ja. Yow, are we up here yet?

Don: Look... Hobbit: It's *metal*. Someone'll hear that; we should wait till the way out. Don: Oho: I wish I had a firecracker. How bout a little pebble. Duct: Tunk! Klang!

[Then I spotted the crane towering over the building.] MGrant: *You* are one crazy m-f! Hobbit: Oh *shit*, you can't even get at it from here??! Don: I say, stand on the edge and jump, maybe you'll hit it. Hobbit: What is this crap!? Well, if we get a board... Don [retreating from edge]: Aie yie yie yie yie! MGrant: I will *not* follow you. I will come and scrape you up off the bottom. Hobbit: Why do they build the crane 5 feet from the *side* of the building?! Don: That's not safe... Hobbit: Of course it is! Don: I mean, somewhere there's a gust of wind with your number on it. Hobbit: I don't *have* a number. MGrant [trying to read the legend on the crane]: Virginia ...? Hobbit: Heyyuh-- I still want the sucker. Don: Man, we're gonna tie you down. Hobbit: Hey, a ladder. I bet it would reach. Don: Oh fuck you!! No way. Absolutely, I will not allow that to happen. Bandy: Not allow what to happen? Don: He's going to move this ladder over and try to get across to th-- Bandy: No. Don't you dare, Hobbit. Hobbit: Fer krissake! Don: We're gonna anesthetize you. Hobbit: You don't have any nitrous left. Don: We'll use oxygen. Hobbit: Dammit, I want this! Bandy: Well, climb from the bottom. Hobbit: You see all the cars down there? Don: Don't *do* that. Bandy: I could get some great pictures of the fall. Hobbit: It'll reach; it'll nest right into that triangle. MGrant: Hobbit, it;ll -- Don: That thing's *wet*. Get away from the edge.. MGrant: One rung breaks in the ladder ... Bandy: Hobbit, will you please come back .. this way? Don: You can start from the bottom.]

I cannot tell from the EVL, or remember, if Rehmi was in on all this stuff too. Some of the above dialog may have been his. At any rate, as we were wandering about on top of this structure, we noticed that we had company, however remote and inaccessible.

[Event logger: Hobbit [to the people across the gulf on the hotel roof]: I say - are you congoers, or a SWAT team? Roof randoms: We can't hear a word you're saying! Don: **ARE YOU A SWAT TEAM?** Roof randoms: No! Who are you? Don: Unicon people, of course - what do you think? Hobbit: Why would we be over here? Roof randoms: Welcome to our planet! MGrant: Shaddup a second - is that Cullen Green?? Roof random: Yes! MGrant: Mike Grant. Roof random: Oh yes, I saw you earlier. MGrant: Oh. I didn't see *you* earlier. Don: We've probably seen you all over the place! MGrant: How the hell's your brother? Roof random: <inaudible> Don: Mike just materialized here today. MGrant: It's a guy from my high school.]

We finally got tired of this structure and found our way back into the hotel. Entering the same fire stairs we had come from, we found a couple of doors that looked like they had some interesting things behind them. One in particular had a large crack under it through which could be seen random ducts and physical-plantish looking things. This being precisely the sort of thing we were seeking, the door quickly yielded to our combined wizardry and we were looking at the most fantastic sight of the weekend.

The door was located midway up the wall, about three feet from a pseudo-floor and the ceiling which was why I could see ducts through the crack under it. There was not really anything stable to step on to once past the door, so we just had to spread out and begin taking in this wonderland. It was an immense maze of pipes, air ducts, beams, wires, and dust, located between two versions of reality. Above our heads was the Rest of the Hotel Wing, and below us, the Film Room. Those of you who were there will remember how large the film room was? This room encompassed its entire ceiling area and then some, and is a full eight feet high, but was filled ''floor'' to ceiling with neat things to climb on. We went nuts. Bandy wipped out the camera and started capturing its essence, and the rest of us spread out like a swarm of hornets and canvassed the place. It was necessary to keep quiet, since they were showing films downstairs!!

[Event logger: [Asbestos city. Muted film soundtrack is heard from below.] Don: I wonder where we can get from here!! Hobbit: gah, it stinks in here. Check it out: air shaft, right above you. Don: Oh yeah - goes Up, up, up! This is better than the tunnels at MIT - You have your magic marker, right? Hobbit: We *have* to leave some graffiti here. Bandy: We should do it on the way out. MGrant: Look - this is ceiling! Hobbit: *Don't* step on it. Don: *Don't* step on it. Hobbit: Oh hell, this marker is lusing already. Hey Don, you wouldn't climb the crane, but you want to go up there.

Hobbit: *Feep!* Test... yeah, it's still up. We're still in this *room*. Don: This is crazy stuff!

[There were little exit hatches along the external walls.] Hobbit: ...it leads outside into a cage; this one's open. Yow, look at your pants, my Clod, all over white shit. Hatch: Squeek! Hobbit: Don, they're *separate*! MGrant [Muffled by wall]: Hobbit?

[Section of tape lost due to speed control lossage]

Hobbit: When we get out of here, hopefully the hotel personnel won't be waiting for us on the other side. Don: well, we can get out.. Hobbit: Yeah, well can we get out thru *there*, that's the question. I mean, look at us, we're head to foot dust.

[We thought we had found the back of the con suite.] Electrical box: Blam! Blam! Don: ... are you sure? MGrant: I *see* the *ice cream machine*. Hobbit: You **do**??? Yow, what we could do with that... MGrant: Yeah, look - it looks just like the base of the ice cream cart. Hobbit: Here - lemme stick my head in there. Don: Holy *shit*... MGrant: Mega.

Don: I'm going to go straight back that way. Hobbit: Shouldn't we quarter over there? Ooh, this is full of scum... MGrant: What is it? Hobbit: Look, a *speaker*! Don: Hey man, we could hook something to this and -- Hobbit: With a radio link.. Don: I have that boogie box! Imagine -- [starts humming Monty Python] MGrant: I thought I saw something in the other end of this room.. Why don't we go check out the other wall? Hobbit: Sounds like a good idea.

[I found a place that went down below ceiling level; apparently between rooms. I could see thermostat wiring running to the walls.] Hobbit: Something definitely perished back there -- crawled in and died. Gad, are we gonna look like a bunch of winners when we come outa here. ... Hey, I found something! It goes *down*. Lemme see that light.. Where's Don, he's gotta see this. ... That's the film room, and that's probably the back wall of the art show. MGrant: I betcha this is the lobby. Hobbit: There's people out here! ... I think they're fen. Don: What's *that*? Hobbit: They're yelling out the windows, that's all. Hey, Don: There's a pit over there, that goes down between two rooms, and under *there*, it looks like it goes all the way out under the roof.]

Well, we never did investigate that part - it didn't look like it really went anywhere interesting. We were already fairly overwhelmed by what we had found already! We emerged tired and gloriously covered head to foot in asbestos dust. We stopped in the bid party that we had stopped in on our way out - I wonder if they recognized us under all the crumblies? Anyway, we proceeded back to the room to take showers and basically celebrate. But we were still so psyched, even after some random celebrations, we still couldn't stop vadding. Even after we had ostensibly calmed down, we were still all over the building...

[Event logger: Don: We wanted to take bricks, and stack them up just inside the elevator doors, so ... MGrant: Yes, so it opens up and all they see are bricks... hee hee!! Don: Well we could at least put teeth on them - we *have* to put teeth on them. Hobbit: What happened to the labels? MGrant: Do you have scotch tape? Don: Yes - I have *duct* *tape* ... Hobbit: Hee hee! *bring* duct tape...

[Don took an *entire* roll of toilet paper, and ...] Hobbit: Take this from the top. Hippie: What do you have there? Ice bucket: *Schmuggie!*

Hobbit: I still wanted to climb that crane. Assorted: *No...* Hobbit: You gonna stay up all night? Hippie: I don't know, it depends. Bandy: I still have one more picture that I have to blow off. Hobbit: Well, how bout a group shot? Hippie: A group shot? Hobbit: Yeah one with everybody down on the floor wearing funny expressions..

Hobbit: Look at us, like the four fuckin' musketeers or someting... Don: We need a black asshole. Rehmi: How about a Jewish asshole? MGrant: Well, you gotta consider Mark Mason is part of this group too. Hobbit: True, but he's not resident at the moment. The way it will probably work out is when he's here someone else will be absent.

[Loud roof fan noise] Hobbit: Did you see a couple of randoms come out of that hatch and go somewhere? Random: Yeah, they did that a while ago. Hobbit: Which way did they go? Random: No idea. Hobbit: Hmm... now, where are them others.. hey, this is the highest point of the hotel, isn't it.

Hobbit: Oh, you found it! You went through the boiler room, right? MGrant: Yeah. Has it been launched yet? Hobbit: No, it's right here. Don: Wait, there's a perfect place to throw it.]

We threw it. It landed with a tremendous **Splat** in the street. Ten minutes later, everyone else was tossing similar projectiles out the front windows, and the road in front of the hotel was covered with little white dots. Having found the pressure mat sham, we explored the boiler room and its associated equipment. We found more randoms on the roof; they had found the exit we had opened up and were enjoying the view. We picked up another random somewhere just before the schmuggie toss who joined us for the rest of the explorations. His reaction to suddenly seeing the cutout in the roof ledge that led straight down to the street was interesting - he was apparently more than a little acrophobic! We found the bottom of the elevators, the back way into the kitchen, the top of the parking deck. We found the *40*-cent soda machines, downstairs with the rack of time cards, as opposed to the 50-cent ones upstairs that the guests are supposed to use. We finally assumed that we were done with it all, and it was getting late, so we headed back to the con suite to snag CRG and anyone else who was ready to relax. At one point we passed thru the main lobby, and noted the presence of some drunken mundanes who apparently couldn't handle the ambient weirdness, and were pointing their beers at passing fen and going ''breep breep'' ... and obviously spoiling for a fight, too. Everyone did the right thing and ignored them. Especially us; we were too vadded out to care.

[Event logger: Don: Oh hell, we forgot the duct tape. Hobbit: It was laying on top of the fire box up there. [It had long since vanished by the time we got back up there.]

Don: Yeah, well uh - I was like right next to the bathroom. Cindy: Ohmigod! That was you. You were sitting there *forever*! Don: Oh, well I was tripping my balls off! Everbody in the left side of the room were hippies, posing as fans. And everybody on the right side, they were *cops* posing as fans.

Hobbit: Yes, the Pizza Tsunami: You see sausages and mushrooms rising up on this crest, and then Foosh! Cindy: Ecch. Hobbit: ...anchovies flying in every direction. Rehmi: Oh, you were picking it *closed*. Tape deck: Vzweeezedezzzeezzeexee!! Hobbit: Oh yeah - well, as it turned out, there's only one pin left in it because all the rest went sproing and flew all over the rug. I said Fuck It. All: Hilk! Hilk! Bandy: So now it's real easy to pick. Don: Put the Chicken Frob in.

Don: Say that again! ... Would you repeat that from the start? I don't think I got the beginning of that ... I think I know what you were referring to. mg: He said ''Worlds beyond worlds, worlds within worlds, magical mystical and mysterious, born of the imagination of one of the greatest storytellers of our time: Gene Wolfe''. Don: But what does that have to do with ... Hobbit: How did machines get into this one? Cindy: That doesn't look very comfortable. Hobbit: It'll be okay for a while.... good exercise for the stomach muscles. Don: What's this about Oz MC and ML?

Hobbit: That's a slow 20, right? mg: That's like the 730 of the 20 family. Hobbit: Oh, like an erector set; the kid's toy. mg: Well, it's something you could easily have at home. Bandy: That's what Crispin keeps saying! Hobbit: Come to think of it, who needs ''home computers'', since we all live with our favorite machines anyway, they *are* home computers!

[Oxygene in background, highly reminiscent of the last Boston trip!] Hobbit: Remember this? Don: *Yes.* Hobbit: I've got little portions of silence between us all and bits of this on the *other* event logger tapes. And ... I was sitting there getting into the music, while dumping the text, and missing all the conversation.

Hobbit: ...Orbital Be-Bop, and right then it started. That's why that part was obscured. mg: When? I was talking about the flame from ... BandyCon. Hobbit: Yeah! You're talking about ... mg: The Senior House Sport Jello Death party. Cindy: I have not read the full ... every bit of that message. Hobbit: This was the BandyCon flame I sent you. Did you read that? mg: Have you received a 32 thousand character message recently? Cindy: Oh yeah ... But I don't remember all that!! Hobbit: Remember the parts where it said ''Rest obscured by starting of loud compressor nearby''? ... cuz we were trying to talk, and over in the corner this thing starts going *Whizzzz*! and just wiped out the rest of the tape!

Cindy: .. too much traveling. Hobbit: Everybody was sitting there imagining this small star out there in the void, and you're heading for it. Don: We could go to the parties. Cindy: Actually, there's ... no food. Hobbit: Well, the con suite is out of food; I think the parties are dead too since they steal half their stuff from the con suite anyways. Cindy: Well, might as well call it a night. I just can't deal with all those people.

Don: ... all the pads from the selector; Hobbit: Pads on a circuit board? Don: Yeah, and all those pads go to variable resistors. Now, behind that was another one, that was pretty obscured, that went to a whole bunch of pads, and the pads were just jumpered, to .. the common thing that went to the scrambler thing. So, if any of those are soldered together, you get that channel. That is, you get that possibly coded channel. You don't have to do that to every one. It disables decoding of the coded channels. So - um, I just figured -- I didn't want to desolder the thing, so what I did? I just bent the little pad up. Oh no, wait - if it's soldered, and you're on a restricted channel, you don't get it. But the solution is to bend the pad up just a tiny bit so it doesn't touch. Hobbit: And that's how they wipe the sync out, with a switch? Don: I think so, or something like that. But they couldn't nail me for it. I just say ''Well I always *got* that channel, it ain't *my* fault!''. Hobbit: Well, there's precious little they could really nail you for; the people that come out and do the installations really don't know all that much about the technical details.

Don [demonstrating ancillary pockets in boogie box carrying arrangement]: Oh, it's great for the beach.... Suntan oil, sunglasses ... [Zzip!] Money.. [Zip!] ... and you can even put stuff in here. Boogie box: ''No one would have believe it, that in the last years of the nineteenth century, that human affairs were being watched ...'' Hobbit: Oh, that's the one that has that piece of War of the Worlds on it. Don: And, we have *this*. mg: Oh, this is .. War of the Worlds. Don. This is ... Hobbit: Well, not really. This is the Mars Mix - they put pieces of the Orson Welles thing in there too. Boogie box: Ulla! mg: Then mention my home town in that.

[For some strange reason we found ourselves back in the con suite.] Hobbit [pouring lemonade]: Eeugh .. It's *warm*! Bandy: Life's a bitch. Hobbit: Oh well, I won't look a gift horse up the schnoz?

Hobbit: Chocolate, at a time like this? Random: Sure, why not? *After* the beer. Hobbit: Eugh.. hmm, what's this. ... *What*? Look what they put in this stuff. Finely ground ... Don: How strange. Hobbit: Dried potassium-enriched banana .. gak, it's like -- Don: My *god*! how unusual. Hmm, I'll have to taste it. You mix it in hot water, or do you eat it? Do you put it on sandwiches or smoke it? Do you *snort* it! ... You don't appreciate chocolate? It's rich in caffeine.

[Concerning a discovery I had made in the parking deck] Hobbit: ...no, you hear the electric fans in the the cars going, all by themselves, no one around. Bandy; Really? Hobbit: And you figure the car's running; why would they leave it running in here?

[While working our way up the fire stairs, once again!!] Don: ... if we don't die before we reach it. Bandy: Life's a bitch. Hobbit: Life's a bitch and then you die, but in between you do stair climbs from 0 to 14.

[Discussion concerning the banquet kitchen which we found again] Hobbit: ...but I got real tired of the food service industry a good many years ago. Don: Oh yeah, I fed one of those things for a while. It was not fun. Like, ''Oh, it's clogged again!''

Door: Skweek! Bandy: ...they see your head, peeking out of a space about yo high, and *below* you, is this *pit*, going all the way down. Hobbit: ...why are we on this floor?

Hobbit: Oh, this is a very cool spot. MGrant: Know what we forgot again? Binoculars. Hobbit: that must be a psychiatrist's office, see the big couch? Don: Wow. Brightly illuminated. Bandy: In that one, down there. Hobbit: Oh, is there a terminal on the desk? They must have terminals all over that place. MGrant: That's C&P, man, she *rich* m-f!

Compressors: **ROAR** Someone, over the racket: holy shit!

Don: ... the old buildings, they're fun as shit. Hobbit: Oh yeah, with all the old features, and little byways and passages.

[A little elevator hacking, please?] Don: I wanted you to open *this* lock. Hobbit: Hmm. Oh *foo*, you need a hex key to open it. Elevator [halting]: Chunkgung gung gung! Don: Oh excellent! Graffiti! Random: Shit, shit .. just a second. *Some* of us come prepared.

[Assorted further random elevator, hall, and what have you noises. The rest of that evening was pretty random; we left some text on the inside of the outer elevator doors.]

Hobbit: ... but the duct tape is signifigant.

Bandy: Well, this is where stand, the same years, right? The same jokes. Don: I'll be right back. Hobbit: Well, you don't laugh at jokes you did ten years ago, right?

[Ancient Indian proverb: Criticize not your fellow man until you have figured out how his event logger works.] Bandy: Take the shutter button, and you press it *lightly*. Hobbit: The black sucker. Bandy: Yeah. To where it first stops. And *then*, when you focus the picture, you have a dot, an arrow, and an arrow. And you move the top of the lens in the direction of the arrow. Hobbit: Top of the ... oh, *yow*!! *That* is ... what is it using to tell how the focus is? Bandy: Optics trickery. Hobbit: This couldn't be an IR sender here, could it? Bandy: No. I know that much. Hobbit [trying to resolve Bandy's face in *his* event logger]: Hmm, it's not too quick on the uptake. How in the hell do they *do* that, I want to know. Bandy: It has something to do with horizontal and vertical lines. Hobbit: That could be. I don't see how it could do range detecting ... Anyway, you want this shot? Bandy: Ya. Hobbit: Well, I'm trying to get this thing so the green light stays on... I'll center it on his nostrils. Don [munching on something]: Sicko. Bandy's EVL: Click!]

We finally got to sleep at some crazy hour that morning. After that it was Sunday, and I turned my attention back to the ship. I moved it from its repository of the past two days to a parking lot in back of the hotel which was really intended for customers of some carpet store. Messing with the fuel system revealed that the lossage had been in the carburetor; I wasn't prepared to pull that apart on the spot. I figured I could get home with the minor lossage. And the oil was still at an okay level, so I decided ''fuck the leak, go for it''. I returned to the lobby and environs and found other folk scattered around at random.

[Event logger: Digex: Hey, MGrant, how goes. Hobbit: We dragged him over here yesterday. Digex: I have a psychological problem relating to anyone who doesn't have a uname. I don't understand it. Someone: Seen RMS? Digex: All I saw of him, he came up to me and said ''You want to go out for Dim Sum?'' I guess Dim Sum takes higher priority. Well, I told him the honest truth: Uh-uh, after last night I no can handle the Dim Sum. Well, Washington area hackers oughta be really happy: Soon as I bring my /23 fired up, slap my Unix tape on it, *bang* I'll be on Usenet. I'm thinking of Yowza as a hostname. Bandy: Yeah, that's what I suggested. Digex: Yeah, how would you spell that? Bandy: YOWZA. Digex: Yep, that's what I thought, *Yowza!*. Hobbit: Not YOWZAH? Digex: Nah, you're really limited to six characters, and that's pushing it. But -- Yowzah encompasses the basic concept of **yow*!! After all! Now, whether I can open up a Zippy server... All: Haw! Haw! Digex: Yeah, if you fire it at Zippy or whatever we're going to call this, it'll take it, throw a Zippyism in there and bounce it back out at you. It'll be kind of a Zippy server. Everybody should have one! Hobbit: So, Zippy the Pinhead always went ''Yow, are we <something> yet?''? Digex: Yeah, it was always like ''Yow, I am having fun'', or ... Bandy: No, it was ''Bleakness, desolation, plastic forks''. Digex: Yeah, Zippyisms are pretty random; it's hard to tell a real one from a pseudo. It's pretty easy to put together a pseudo that sounds real. Hobbit: Yeah like ''Yow, are we trespassing yet!''. Digex: Hee hee! Yow, are we breaking security? *Yow*, are there any rules against this? [I since have read some genuine Zippy material, thanks to MLY. I love it!]

Hobbit: ... the roof. Someone: Oh yeah. Art auction: One dollar, going once! Door: Squweek!! Art auction: One dollar, going twice! Hippie: Hi. Did you get your car working? Hobbit: Yeah, well I -- Hippie: I would like to stay around till the art auction is over so I can get paid... Hobbit: Hmmm. RMS might be coming with us; he needs a ride to Jersey. Hippie: Oh. *Why*... hee hee! Somebody [whining]: Oh, could you give me a *riiide*... Are you going to New Jurrzey?? Hippie: You know anyone who wants to buy some artwork? I still have most of it. Random: Did you sell any of it? Hobbit: Yeah, the pen and ink *boredom* drawing! Hippie: Basically yeah, I did it during class...

[From Bandy complaining about when he would finally get home.] Hobbit: 6 AM? Hippie: 6 AM? It don't take that long to get to Boston. Bandy: From here to Boston? It's 12 hours. Hippie: It ain't *12* *hours* to get to -- It's nine hours. Bandy: No, it takes 5 hours from here to ... Hippie: Which way do you **go**?!! Don: Through Pittsburgh!

Hobbit: *Oh*. This is good. Hippie: I thought you'd be into this. Bandy: What is it? Hobbit: It's the Carl Sagan's Universe to the tune of Alice's Restaurant. Bandy: Oh, shit. [That particular item had been printed by some computer. Where can I get a machine-readable version of it?? It's almost as funny as the one about MIT's AI Lab.]

Hippie [being silly]: Hello. Hobbit: Feed her, so she'll sit down. ... Just because Bandy's in it? Bandy: ...you're paranoid. Androgyne: That doesn't mean it's without principle. Hippie: *Scream*] Who was that indeterminate-looking person in the white shirt? It took me a while to guess what sex it was.

About the last thing I got was someone's description of the one problem anyone had, and their fix. The drunk mundanes I mentioned before were apparently more widespread than the lobby.

[Event logger: Random: We traditionally don't have a Dead Dog party, so ... ... real redhead? She almost got raped last night. In her room, by two outside people, who were following con people around... Hobbit: Mundanes? Oh, like the guys sitting in the lobby with their beers, going Breep! at the fen?? Random: Yeah! And they walked into her room, and started grabbing her and all this crap. The group came over, pounded on the door, and said ''Bring all the people you can, preferably the large ones'' ... the whole room piled out, there were two Recon Rangers in there. None of us had weapons, but these idiot sit there, and they want to start a fight! *Fine*, I don't care! I know you're drunk out of your mind, but if you want to get spread across the walls that's your prerogative!

Hobbit: Oh, you mean the black guy in the cammo? Bandy: The one that was wearing camouflage? He walked in *here*, about 2-2:30?? Yeah, Cindy had a little trouble kicking them out.]

What the fuck is a Recon Ranger, and how do you tell when one is nearby?

We spent the next few hours collecting and sorting our scattered belongings, and figuring out where to put them next. Don had apparently lost his shoes. Hippie wrapped up her business with the art show people. ...Finally we got under way, minus RMS who had disappeared. The ride back was surprisingly uneventful; the lossage only happened once or twice and then apparently went away. It probably sucked the dirt down through the jets and crunched it up in the drive unit. We found our way back into the backwoods to bring Hippie home, and proceeded on homeward. Wow, what a relief to arrive and go to sleep!! And, of course, the next thing to do was start dumping the log.... yow, are we textual yet?

_H*