BEGIN LINE_NOIZ.23 I S S U E - @ # N O V E M B E R 1 5 , 1 9 9 4 >>LiNE NOiZ> <<<<<<<<<<<< >>>>>>>>>>>> <<<2 3<<<< : : : : : : :-L-I-N-E-N-O-I-Z-: : : : : : : >>>2 3>>>> <<<<<<<< >>>>>>>> <<<<<< - - - 1 - y e a r - - - >>>>>> <<<< >>>> CYbERPUNk I N f O R M A t i 0 N E - Z i N E <<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<< L I N E N O i Z >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>> I S S U E - @ # N O V E M B E R 1 5 , 1 9 9 4 : File ! : Intro to Issue 21 : Billy Biggs : File @ : Square One - Part 8 : Kipp Lightburn : File # : Heavy Duty - Chapter 4 : C.McLean-Campbell : File $ : Nibbles of Information : Billy Biggs : File % : Chiba City Blues Poll Results : Joshua Lellis ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ --<----<----<----<----L - i - N - e ----- N - o - i - Z ---->---->---->---->-- ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ File - ! Well, I can't hold off this issue any longer so I'm sending it out now. I had planned to include an interview with Bill Leeb of Front Line Assembly but since it hasn't happened yet, it'll have to wait till next issue. Sorry. Meanwhile, we have the results of the Chiba City Blues Poll and some other neat stuff. Here's to one year running... -Billy Biggs, editor. ***** N o T E ****** - We have been experiencing problems with our subscription list. If you find that the following subscription instructions are not working then e-mail me at ae687@freenet.carleton.ca and I'll see what I can do.... =-*-= Subscription Info =-*-= o Subscriptions can be obtained by sending mail to: dodger@fubar.bk.psu.edu With the words: Subscription LineNoiz In the body of the letter. o Back Issues can be recieved by sending mail to the same address with the words BACK ISSUES in the subject. =-*-= Submission Info =-*-= o Please send any submissions to me: ae687@freenet.carleton.ca o We accept Sci-Fi, opinions, reviews and anything else of interest. o Submit! Submit! Submit! Submit! Submit! Submit! Submit! Submit! Submit! ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ --<----<----<----<----L - i - N - e ----- N - o - i - Z ---->---->---->---->-- ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ File - @ From: ah804@freenet.carleton.ca (Kipp Lightburn) Subject: Square One - Part 8 Square One - Pt. 8 ------------------ Peices of green, in a dead world. Small patches of grass jut out from between concrete slabs. Green with life, identity, and soul. I sit on the steps to one of the tall buildings that remind us just how small we really are. Mirrored windows from top to bottom, so that the people in the street might see what they'd look like if they were looking out at themselves. I look in those windows. I'm there but I can't see myself. There's no-one to see. "Okay Kyle it's all set up." She emerges from the building with a briskness to her walk. I can only stare. Stick looks down at me,"What?" "I'm not Kyle remember?" Losing your identity before you even find one is a cruelty that little else can match. I have no sense of self. No feeling of green. "Well what do you want me to call you then?" Her eyes have a hardness. "I don't know." I stretch to my feet, "Don't call me anything." My new leg feels a little odd. It's exactly the same length as my old one, but this one is more muscular. Stronger. If I run, my other leg will have to try and keep up. Her boots echo off of the concrete as she steps towards the car. I have to kill some more now I suppose. The grass looks at me with a pale stare. I slam the car door beside me and sink into the seat. Stick pushes the car into drive, and my seat begins to vibrate. Vibrations. Dancing around my quiet insanities. Rubbing the occasional thought with warm friendliness. "I'm going to drop you off two blocks down." She never takes her eyes off the road, "The guy you want is supposed to be at home now. We need his wallet and his uniform." Brief. As if she feels she's talking to someone she has reason to hate. She hates me. She hates the idea of me. I am evrything that Kyle Raimi was. Almost. I'm walking around but where is he? The man who is both my father and my twin. We drive in silence. She wants nothing to do with me, and all that I want now is her. Not her love, not her touch. I just need her to see me and know that I'm alive. That I'm sitting next to her. But to her I'm just the shadow of a man she may never see again. And you don't normally talk to shadows. Shadows are all around us, but we never actually see them. I shuffle in the seat and break the silence, but she doesn't even throw me a sideways glance. I was her friend. I'm her tool now. The car slows to a stop and she unlocks my door from her side, "Get out here. I'll be waiting at the diner across the street." "Stick..." "We're running on a time limit here." She hasn't looked at me once. I'm well aware that I don't exist, but she doesn't have to cram the idea down my throat. I step out of the car and onto the sidewalk. As the car door swings shut, she's already got her foot on the gas. I feel like hurting something. The door buckles then snaps under the weight of my foot. Instinct becomes my guide. And I hunt. "What the hell?!?" He staggers into the hall with a magazine in one hand and a television remote in the other. Death will thank me for my gift. My new leg pushes me into a sprint as his eyes grow wide. Shock. I don't want shock, I want terror. I want fear. The magazine hits the floor. He spins and bolts into another room. I hear a door slam when I round the corner. "...oh god oh god oh god..." The sound creeps under the door and into my everloving arms. He's not going anywhere, so I look around for something to use on him. Something painful. Raw. I find it. I grab it. She hates me now. She doesn't know me. She hates me. Another door falls in front of me. Anger spurns a giggle from my deep inside of me. Rage. Rage. Rage. I focus on it. He sees it. "Please, just take whatever you want." The boar cries. The metal ruler spins in my hand. "I'll give you anything you want..." And I'm on top of him. My weight forces the air out of his lungs with a wheeze. When he squirms and flails, I know I have terror. I have that fear that has become my fuel. "...please..." I sit there. For some reason I simply wade in the moment. It ripples around me. "...please..." She hates me. I'm not the Kyle she wants. "...I haven't done anything..." His squirming stops as my eyes leave him and survey the room. A bed. A dresser. Photographs. Square memories. Boxes of captured time. I feel him move beneath me but my eyes fix onto the pictures. Scenes of him. Scenes of others. Catalyst's for memories. I get off of him and walk over to them. They hold my fascination. I don't know why. They just do. I hear the drawer to the nightstand drag open. He wouldn't dare. I turn on my heel and find myself looking at my prey. My armed prey. He cocks the hammer on the gun. It's then that I notice the wet stain in his pants. The gun shakes. I have to drop him. Instincts are screaming now. They want to smell the warmth of red. The loss of green. When I leap towards him I hear the shot. Loud. Rigid. Hot metal pulls it's way, furiously, through my shoulder. Though I bleed red, I can never bleed my green. My hands clasp the gun and yank it free. He watches me bleed on him for a few seconds. I smash him with the gun's back end. His eyes roll and conciousness seeps out of him. The uniform hangs in the closet, and the wallet rests on the dresser next to the photographs. I look from the photos to him, and back again. I take what I came to get, but I leave something behind. I leave him his life. -- Kipp Lightburn (ah804@freenet.carleton.ca)=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= "One ring to rule them all, One ring to find them, One ring to bring them all, and in the darkness bind them. In the land of Mordor where shadows lie." =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= ----------------------L - i - N - E ----- N - o - i - Z ---------------------- File - # From: C.McLean-Campbell HEAVY DUTY C.McLean-Campbell Series Editor: Peaches Copyright 1994 Toaster Books. All Rights Reserved. CHAPTER FOUR. It was early evening in the Moscow suburb and Major Violet Jones reset the little geiger counter for the third time that night, by holding it out the window and pointing it at the sky. She was watching for a light, a red laser light that would appear from the top of the telegraph pole outside the garden wall. Jasmine Ellis, the civilian operative would shine the communications laser down to her when she had neutralised the house security system. Jones glanced along the high wall shrouded by tall cypress conifers and waited. In the dark she could just about make out the silhouette of Ellis on top of the pole. As she peered out of the car window, the detector on the dashboard bleeped very quietly and Jones realised she'd missed the thin beam. She toggled the icon in her visor head-up and spoke. "Ellis? That was quick?" she said. Ellis' voice sounded tinny. "Jonesy, it's already been neutralised. I haven't touched it." "What do you mean?" "I mean someone's already been here. I think the cupboard is probably bare. I have a warm mass in the study that isn't hot enough to be more than a small cat. And there isn't any movement on the detectors, either in the house or grounds," she said. " But that can't be right, Ellis. What about the dogs?" The line was silent for a second, Ellis must have turned her head out of line. Then the detector bleeped again and she was back. "No dogs, no movement at all. It's all quiet in there. There's a bypass hardwired into the box that's been feeding the house system happy signals, but everything else is working fine." Jonesy weighed the topamine dart gun in her hand and placed it on the passenger seat. She flicked the local Unipol file onto the head-up, checked again all the details that she had already memorised, then flicked it off. "How sure are you about this, Ellis? The Unipol file has four Dobermans listed and licensed. Are you going to be scraping me off the gravel if I walk in there?" "It's totally defo on that, Jonesy. If there was anything alive in there it would register. Bet you all you'll find is a cat. If you walk in there the system won't even respond. I can open the gate from here and you can drive right up to the front door." "Are you sure?" asked Jonesy. "Do me a favour," was the curt reply. "Okay Ellis, listen. I want you to open the gate as soon as I reach it. The minute I go in the front door I want you to contact Angelwing. Tell them to touch down immediately, Tell them to put everything on the deck in the grounds as soon as I pop the door." She started the car and waited till Ellis responded. "Copy that," said the operative. "And get us back on the satellite," she added. Instantly, the comms icon changed colour. The gravel drive was a substantial distance from the front gate, perhaps two hundred meters through open lawns and well tended flower beds. Jones eased the car gently up to the door, searching the grounds for the dogs. A graphic in her head-up indicated any change in electrical activity in the area; a tell tale of any alarm system. It remained static. Parking the car tight against the door to provide additional protection, she unholstered her beretta and slipped out, leaving the engine still running. She crouched beneath the keypad but the front door was already open. Jones flung herself against the wall parallel to the door and gingerly pushed it open. She aimed the geiger counter in the door and scanned up and down. The graphic in her visor stayed at background level and clicked slowly on audio. The hall was still. All the lights were on and she could see the persian carpets and an antique mirror over a Georgian side table on the right hand side wall. The study door was the second of three heavy oak doors along the hall. It was the only one open. Inside the hall a vile, ripe odour caught the back of her throat and she gasped quietly before pushing her face mask on. Inside the hall she systematically checked the two closed doors. Nothing. An empty lounge and a deserted kitchen full of expensive gadgets. She eased the study door open fully and stepped in. A thin, elegant persian cat was fast asleep in front of a traditional style gas fire. A delicate china cup and saucer filled with soured tea sat on the edge of the desk. To the left of the cat, slumped face down, was the body of an elderly man still dressed in his silk pyjamas. A large puddle of blood had spilled out of the exit wound at the back of his neck and created a miniature lake on the carpet around him. It had turned a murky, gelatinous black. The rest of the carpet was a lace work of coagulated bloody paw prints that terminated at the sleeping cat. Suddenly the room was filled with the deafening pounding of the Angelwing helicopters directly overhead and Jones shuddered involuntarily as the sound cracked the silence. The teacup rattled in its saucer and the cat awoke, leapt across the room and rushed out of the door. The major self-consciously looked around, expecting someone to have spotted her lapse and then swore out loud, cursing her own weakness. She wanted to wash her hands but took a seat on the floor and waited. Sergeant Fisher stepped over the body of Marshall Leonid Shavyrin, Hero of the old Soviet Union and ex-commander of the Long Range Strategic Rocket Forces. Jones was standing beside the ornate mantelpiece. Around her the specialists from the Angelwing team were painstakingly taking the place apart. "We found the dogs in the yard," said Fisher, "poisoned according to the pathologist. And Wintrobe's on the landline," he pointed to the traditional phone on the study desk. "Path says he's been dead at least a week," he added. "Fisher," she said, coughing slightly, "Don't you think I managed to guess that for myself?" "They said the cat had eaten some of him." "Now how did I know that you were just gagging to tell me that?" "Bit pervy, though," continued Fisher, "shooting a guy in the throat like that. You ever see anything like that before, Jonesy?" She shook her head and deliberately walked around the body to pick up the phone. Wintrobe sounded as if he was having a conversation out of shot. "Hello," she said. "Jonesy," Wintrobe sounded hoarse, the way he always did when he was excited," so we didn't get Shavyrin then?" Wintrobe pronounced it like Shavay-rin. "Well we did, but unfortunately he has a couple of large, inconvenient holes in him," said Jonesy. "Don't worry about it. I want you to leave the SCARP case to Fisher." "Leave it?" she protested. "Did you say leave it? I'm almost on top of it!" Wintrobe responded tersely but sympathetically. She could hear him chewing on the cigar that was a permanent feature of his face. "Jonesy, just leave it. With the Marshall dead we draw a blank on the search." He paused, expecting another retort from her, but she stayed silent. "I want you back here, this morning. Angelwing will drop you at The Moscow Skyhook in twenty minutes. The embassy has a change of clothes ready for you and the diplomatic passes." " So what's happening?" she asked. "Bishop will give you a brief at the terminal. Ditch all that hardware. We'll have a new kit ready for you when you land." Jones pulled the Beretta out of its holster. She'd had it for two years. "What about my team, boss? Have I just to ditch them like that?" " Fisher and Ellis can top and tail the thing and then catch up with you later. Meanwhile you just go get in the 'wing now Jonesy. I need you here. Understood?" "Understood." She was trying not to sound reluctant. He cut off as soon as she answered. Major Jones peeled the helmet off and clattered it onto the desk. "Shit!" she said and dropped the webbing belt with the comms equipment beside the helmet. Fisher looked up at her, an inquisitive expression on his dark face. "Problem Jonesy?" he asked. " Yeah. Don't ask. Listen you still packing that Heckler?" she asked him. " Yeah" he responded by peeling his jacket aside to show her the holster. Jonesy beckoned him to come closer and he did. She pulled the Heckler out of his holster with a finger and thumb, as if it was something soiled and unclean. She dropped it on the desk with a clang amongst the other hardware. Then she took hold of his hand and pressed the Beretta into it. "Look after the shop while I'm away." Fischer nodded. Sometimes he reminded her of an old hound dog that her grandfather used to own. Eight minutes later she was boarding the Skyhook. ----------------------L - i - N - E ----- N - o - i - Z ---------------------- File - $ From: ae687@freenet.carleton.ca (Billy Biggs) Subject: Nibbles of Information [ This one I just felt like putting in... it's o so true... :-) ] :<:>:<:>:<:>:<:>:<:>:<:>:<:>:<:>:<:>:<:>:<:>:<:><:>:<:>:<:>:<:>:<:>:<:>:<:>: Subject: fw:Evolution of a Programmer The Evolution of a Programmer ----------------------------- High School/Jr.High =================== 10 PRINT "HELLO WORLD" 20 END First year in College ===================== program Hello(input, output) begin writeln('Hello World') end. Senior year in College ====================== (defun hello (print (cons 'Hello (list 'World)))) New professional ================ #include void main(void) { char *message[] = {"Hello ", "World"}; int i; for(i = 0; i < 2; ++i) printf("%s", message[i]); printf("\n"); } Seasoned professional ===================== #include #include class string { private: int size; char *ptr; public: string() : size(0), ptr(new char('\0')) {} string(const string &s) : size(s.size) { ptr = new char[size + 1]; strcpy(ptr, s.ptr); } ~string() { delete [] ptr; } friend ostream &operator <<(ostream &, const string &); string &operator=(const char *); }; ostream &operator<<(ostream &stream, const string &s) { return(stream << s.ptr); } string &string::operator=(const char *chrs) { if (this != &chrs) { delete [] ptr; size = strlen(chrs); ptr = new char[size + 1]; strcpy(ptr, chrs); } return(*this); } int main() { string str; str = "Hello World"; cout << str << endl; return(0); } Master Programmer ================= [ uuid(2573F8F4-CFEE-101A-9A9F-00AA00342820) ] library LHello { // bring in the master library importlib("actimp.tlb"); importlib("actexp.tlb"); // bring in my interfaces #include "pshlo.idl" [ uuid(2573F8F5-CFEE-101A-9A9F-00AA00342820) ] cotype THello { interface IHello; interface IPersistFile; }; }; [ exe, uuid(2573F890-CFEE-101A-9A9F-00AA00342820) ] module CHelloLib { // some code related header files importheader(); importheader(); importheader(); importheader("pshlo.h"); importheader("shlo.hxx"); importheader("mycls.hxx"); // needed typelibs importlib("actimp.tlb"); importlib("actexp.tlb"); importlib("thlo.tlb"); [ uuid(2573F891-CFEE-101A-9A9F-00AA00342820), aggregatable ] coclass CHello { cotype THello; }; }; #include "ipfix.hxx" extern HANDLE hEvent; class CHello : public CHelloBase { public: IPFIX(CLSID_CHello); CHello(IUnknown *pUnk); ~CHello(); HRESULT __stdcall PrintSz(LPWSTR pwszString); private: static int cObjRef; }; #include #include #include #include #include "thlo.h" #include "pshlo.h" #include "shlo.hxx" #include "mycls.hxx" int CHello::cObjRef = 0; CHello::CHello(IUnknown *pUnk) : CHelloBase(pUnk) { cObjRef++; return; } HRESULT __stdcall CHello::PrintSz(LPWSTR pwszString) { printf("%ws\n", pwszString); return(ResultFromScode(S_OK)); } CHello::~CHello(void) { // when the object count goes to zero, stop the server cObjRef--; if( cObjRef == 0 ) PulseEvent(hEvent); return; } #include #include #include "pshlo.h" #include "shlo.hxx" #include "mycls.hxx" HANDLE hEvent; int _cdecl main( int argc, char * argv[] ) { ULONG ulRef; DWORD dwRegistration; CHelloCF *pCF = new CHelloCF(); hEvent = CreateEvent(NULL, FALSE, FALSE, NULL); // Initialize the OLE libraries CoInitializeEx(NULL, COINIT_MULTITHREADED); CoRegisterClassObject(CLSID_CHello, pCF, CLSCTX_LOCAL_SERVER, REGCLS_MULTIPLEUSE, &dwRegistration); // wait on an event to stop WaitForSingleObject(hEvent, INFINITE); // revoke and release the class object CoRevokeClassObject(dwRegistration); ulRef = pCF->Release(); // Tell OLE we are going away. CoUninitialize(); return(0); } extern CLSID CLSID_CHello; extern UUID LIBID_CHelloLib; CLSID CLSID_CHello = { /* 2573F891-CFEE-101A-9A9F-00AA00342820 */ 0x2573F891, 0xCFEE, 0x101A, { 0x9A, 0x9F, 0x00, 0xAA, 0x00, 0x34, 0x28, 0x20 } }; UUID LIBID_CHelloLib = { /* 2573F890-CFEE-101A-9A9F-00AA00342820 */ 0x2573F890, 0xCFEE, 0x101A, { 0x9A, 0x9F, 0x00, 0xAA, 0x00, 0x34, 0x28, 0x20 } }; #include #include #include #include #include #include "pshlo.h" #include "shlo.hxx" #include "clsid.h" int _cdecl main( int argc, char * argv[] ) { HRESULT hRslt; IHello *pHello; ULONG ulCnt; IMoniker * pmk; WCHAR wcsT[_MAX_PATH]; WCHAR wcsPath[2 * _MAX_PATH]; // get object path wcsPath[0] = '\0'; wcsT[0] = '\0'; if( argc > 1) { mbstowcs(wcsPath, argv[1], strlen(argv[1]) + 1); wcsupr(wcsPath); } else { fprintf(stderr, "Object path must be specified\n"); return(1); } // get print string if(argc > 2) mbstowcs(wcsT, argv[2], strlen(argv[2]) + 1); else wcscpy(wcsT, L"Hello World"); printf("Linking to object %ws\n", wcsPath); printf("Text String %ws\n", wcsT); // Initialize the OLE libraries hRslt = CoInitializeEx(NULL, COINIT_MULTITHREADED); if(SUCCEEDED(hRslt)) { hRslt = CreateFileMoniker(wcsPath, &pmk); if(SUCCEEDED(hRslt)) hRslt = BindMoniker(pmk, 0, IID_IHello, (void **)&pHello); if(SUCCEEDED(hRslt)) { // print a string out pHello->PrintSz(wcsT); Sleep(2000); ulCnt = pHello->Release(); } else printf("Failure to connect, status: %lx", hRslt); // Tell OLE we are going away. CoUninitialize(); } return(0); } Apprentice Hacker =================== #!/usr/local/bin/perl $msg="Hello, world.\n"; if ($#ARGV >= 0) { while(defined($arg=shift(@ARGV))) { $outfilename = $arg; open(FILE, ">" . $outfilename) || die "Can't write $arg: $!\n"; print (FILE $msg); close(FILE) || die "Can't close $arg: $!\n"; } } else { print ($msg); } 1; Experienced Hacker =================== #include #define S "Hello, World\n" main(){exit(printf(S) == strlen(S) ? 0 : 1);} Seasoned Hacker =================== % cc -o a.out ~/src/misc/hw/hw.c % a.out Guru Hacker =================== % cat Hello, world. ^D New Manager =================== 10 PRINT "HELLO WORLD" 20 END Middle Manager =================== mail -s "Hello, world." bob@b12 Bob, could you please write me a program that prints "Hello, world."? I need it by tomorrow. ^D Senior Manager =================== % zmail jim I need a "Hello, world." program by this afternoon. Chief Executive =================== % letter letter: Command not found. % mail To: ^X ^F ^C % help mail help: Command not found. % damn! !: Event unrecognized % logout :<:>:<:>:<:>:<:>:<:>:<:>:<:>:<:>:<:>:<:>:<:>:<:><:>:<:>:<:>:<:>:<:>:<:>:<:>: Date: 12 Nov 1994 00:39:27 GMT From: David_Dei@cyberden.com (David Dei) Organization: The CyberDen - 415.472.5527 Reply-To: David_Dei@cyberden.com Subject: RAVERS' INTERNET INVASION WEEK ONE Distribution: world INTERNET INVASION of BRITAIN WEEK ONE brought to you by THE ZIPPY INVASION TASK FORCE AIM: TO VOICE OUR OUTRAGE AT THE VIRTUAL BANNING OF RAVE IN THE UK METHOD: USE THE INTERNET TO SEND PROTESTS TO UK GOVERNMENT AND ITS CITIZENS This week we up the intensity as this thing goes GLOBAL!!! The Internet Invasion of Britain has Spread WorldWide with Australia, South Africa, Holland, Sweden and Japan entering the fight. We are still awaiting word as to exactly what effect the Invasion has had on UK networks. By all accounts there is a concerted attempt by British Authorities to keep this story quiet. BUT word has already gotten out to our cyberactivists within the UK (ground zero) who are monitoring the extent of the "collapse". Their message: KEEP UP THE PRESSURE, THE INTERNET INVASION OF BRITAIN CONTINUES TARGET SURRENDER DATE: December 1st 1994. THIS COULD BE THE WORLDS FIRST INTERNET ORCHESTRATED "COUP DE ETAT" Any guesses as to the exact timing of John Majors resignation announcement? "This is not just an INVASION, it's an INTER-VASION" - Dr Timothy Leary PROTEST BACKGROUND [A World Wide Web site for info on the Criminal Justice Bill is available at the following URL:] http://www.bath.ac.uk/~bs2ajs/CJ.Bill.html The United Kingdom Govt's Criminal Justice and Public Order Act (its now no longer a Bill) THREATENS THE RIGHT OF ALL GLOBAL CITIZENS TO ASSEMBLE. With legal developments in Western countries increasingly interconnected, THIS ASSAULT, IF WE IGNORE IT, WILL ULTIMATELY THREATEN INTERNET "ASSEMBLY" ITSELF Unlike the 1989 Fax for Freedom in support of Chinese students in Tienanmen Square, the Internet community is now empowered to vote on GLOBAL ISSUES by electronically "assembling" to voice actual world opinion. Vote with your fingers to affect world history! What to do / How to spread the meme. 1. REPLICATE: Alert your Internet cybercommunity by distributing this message as far as possible. This is an exercise in both information dispersal and GLOBAL VOTING. 2. E-MAIL your PROTEST: E-mail the attached protest or your own personalized response to as many key UK addresses as possible (Government Depts, Companies, Company Presidents, Ministers, Media, and your UK Friends as well as your own national/local government officials.) [United Kingdom Commercial e-mail addresses are available via publications such as New Rider's Official Internet Yellow Pages and other resource lists. UK Government Web Site: www.open.gov.uk, President Clinton: president@whitehouse.com] 3. PARTICIPATE: Discuss the implications of this issue and the concept of a GLOBAL VOTE in as many forums as possible or organize your own Data-Gathering. Call 415-281-KNOW for invasion details. Note: We are not attempting to gridlock the ENTIRE system but to rather bring pressure to bear upon the United Kingdom and its citizens. SUGGESTED PROTEST MESSAGE: Recognizing that the principle involved in the British Criminal Justice Bill now being written into law, involves the banning of "gatherings of more than 10 people on public land" and may eventually be introduced into my home country and eventually may prohibit Internet "gatherings" in the public land of Cyberia, we, the Undersigned, protest with all our hearts and will. And we implore you to do all in your power to erase this shameful bill and its intention from planetary consciousness. Signed: [your e-mail address] BACKGROUND TO THE Public Order section of the Criminal Justice and Public Order Act of GREAT BRITAIN At 1:30 am [Friday 4 Nov, Pacific Time] the Queen gave her Royal assent to most of the clauses in The Criminal Justice Bill. The Bill seeks to change a number of aspects of the British Justice System.While rectifying overdue legal loopholes, it also contains some unpopular measures that erode basic human rights. These rights are: 1. The right to ASSEMBLE in groups of ten or more individuals ON PUBLIC or COMMON LAND. In other words, hanging out in a group of ten or more people in a town square, a park, or the sidewalk becomes potentially illegal. 2. The right to ASSEMBLE on PRIVATE LAND if the gathering is for the express purpose of listening to music typified as "sounds wholly or predominantly characterised by the emission of a succession of repetitive beats". In other words, engaging in the act of drumming, listening to rockn roll or any music form containing a high number of repeated beats SPECIFICALLY TECHNO now becomes illegal 3. The right to TRAVEL within the borders or ones country WITHOUT UNDUE HARASSMENT or threat of arbitrary arrest. The bill gives British Police increased powers to question and arrest people based solely on their appearance. In this case the mere fact of looking like you might be on your way to a party involving the playing of repetitive music is a basis for harassment. COMMENTARY The people most directly affected by this bill are those who are most likely to attend private or public gatherings in the UK [especially British Ravers]. But we are all affected by this move. The setting of this PRECEDENT in a western democracy such as the United Kingdom is grave cause for concern. What we are seeing is a western government destroying the fundamental human rights of its people. Specifically the right to assemble, which has its philosophical pedigree in the French and American Revolutions and which has long been considered the cornerstone of western style democracy The question we are asking you is this: "If WE do not voice OUR protest at these developments in the UK, because we are not concerned that the right to assemble in physical space in Britain might be taken away, and we do not at the very least make ourselves heard in this battle, THEN WHO MIGHT there be left to do likewise when our rights to assemble in our own geographical regions as well as the virtual geographies of cyberspace, are threatened? BROUGHT TO YOU BY THE ZIPPY INVASION TASK FORCE: "Cyber Commodore" Dr Timothy Leary Chaos Strategist: Prof. Ralph Abraham Reality Technician: David Dei Zippy Guerilla: Fraser Clark, Rave-u-Gees: Michael John, Frank Weetjens Internet Intelligence: Captain Crunch Pirate Radio: Stephen Dunifer Look for our posts in the following forums: Alt.Rave & Alt.Music.Techno :<:>:<:>:<:>:<:>:<:>:<:>:<:>:<:>:<:>:<:>:<:>:<:><:>:<:>:<:>:<:>:<:>:<:>:<:>: Date: Wed Oct 19 01:39:43 1994 From: atomrec@primus.COM (Atomic Records) Subject: RMI CD #2: FINAL RESULTS!! Well! Here they are, after all these months! I must say I was very surprised by the final results. A lot of songs that I had hoped would get on there didn't. But I willingly defer to the collective wisdom of the hard-working reviewers (who deserve to be commended and patted on the back and showered with all sorts of nice things) and so, here is the track listing for Mind/Body volume 2. Keep in mind that the ordering of these tracks is up in the air. In the lists below, they're arranged in order of decreasing total score (so the first track is the highest-rated track on the disc, and the last one is the lowest-rated track that made it onto the disc (which is nothing to be ashamed about or anything)). Here we go! (Note: I don't have time to generate individual letters to the artists who made it, and all. If you're an artist, and you see your name here, you know what to do.) Mind ---- Cameron Lewis - Clusterfuck Scar Tissue - Failure Arcana - Where The Shadows Lie (Heart Of Darkness Mix) Noisia - Get The Fork '94 Soma Holiday - Frisk Fuzzboy - Sacrificial Lamb Not Breathing - The Shogoth Walk Ciborium - Good Christians At Dachau Graveyard Cafe - The Industrial Blues Area_39 - Actum Ne Agas Spleenclutch - Sketches Of Pain The One - Phase Shift Circular Firing Squad - Pointer To Void Verge - The Metal Countdown In case any of the above artists cannot fulfill their duties (i.e. they procrastinate in sending me their final master, the bums) then one of the next four songs will take their place: The Unit Circle - Miling Direction Is Illegal D.A.C. Crowell - Risk Mikael Hillborg - Heart Of Steel h+ - Heaven And now... Body ---- informatik - Autonomous hex80 - XL Virus - Flesh 30 Helens Agree - Industry Bureau Of Control - C^3 I Etherring - Split Struktur - Ether Smothered Hope - Synaptic Circle ATD Convention - My World Electronic Counter Measures - Suicide Dark Network - The Innocent Sphere Lazza - LD 50 Crawl - Straightrazor Drone - Ectogenesis: The New Flesh Shape Factor Moment - The Empty Clown Cyber G - Spaceloop As on Mind, these are the reserves: Wonderland - Seeker Decomposing Poets - Slide On Shadows Brian Thomas - Deathro And finally, the cover art winner is Arts Industria, who beat their nearest competition by 10 points! As soon (if) I get their permission, I'll make it available by anonymous FTP. I'll be flying to Champaign, IL and mixing the final master tapes with D.A.C. Crowell from November 4th-7th. The CDs will be out in late November or early January. Many thanks to all who participated, and another big round of applause for the reviewers! Steve Boswell atomrec@primus.com Take it to ze bridge, Rolph... und blow it up! =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-= L - I = N - e =-=-= N - o = i - Z =-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- File - % From: joshua@server.dmccorp.com (Joshua Lellis) Subject: Chiba City Blues Poll Results CHIBA CITY BLUES Editor: Joshua Lellis How sad is it when we wake up in the morning and the day has ended. Hi All. And welcome to the first annual CCB poll results. Before we get to the winners, let's take a brief moment in respect to the people that voted and the people that are involved in all of this stuff. ... ... ... Ok. Now I'm sure you're all waiting for this moment... so... without any further interruptions, the WINNERS of the CCB poll... In the category of: Best Short Story: 1) A Future We'd Like To See (13) 2) Drivers (5) 3) Streets of Snow and Fire (3) Best Novel (5+ Chapters): 1) Puma (8) 2) The Alaskan - Joshua Lellis (6) 3) Loki's Gun - Phyllis Rostykus and Mark Friedman (5) 3) Something To Be Done - Mike Acar (5) 3) Silk and Steel (5) Best Poem: 1) Shattered Glass and Broken Dreams - Phyllis Rostykus (5) Best Writer: 1) Stefan Gagne (11) 2) Mike Acar (5) 3) Mark Friedman (3) 3) Kipp Lightburn (3) 3) Hubert Bartels (3) Favorite Character (male): 1) Freddy (5) 1) Argus (5) 1) Tuesday Mourning (5) 2) Spaxter (3) 2) Dyne (3) Favorite Character (female): 1) Puma (10) 2) Niko (5) 3) Shadowcat (3) 3) Saraquel (3) 3) Nekeko (3) Congratulations to all the winners. Untill next year, that's all for the CCB poll.... ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ --<----<----<----<----L - I - N - e ----- N - o - i - Z ---->---->---->---->-- ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ >> Scheduled 4 upcomming issues: << << Phone interview with Bill Leeb (finally) >> >> Heavy Duty Chapter 5 << Submit! Submit! Submit! --- We need submissions!! --- Submit! Submit! Submit! END LINE_NOIZ.23 -- + Billy Biggs Ottawa, Canada | =itwouldbetheultimatetriumphofhumanreason= + ae687@Freenet.carleton.ca | =forthenwewouldknowthemindofGOD= S.Hawking