02 Jan 1994   
       
   Dear Snooz Editorbeings,   
       
   Please indicate that the following is submitted by Charles Herriot (1:163/110)   
   so that Dallas' second last working neuron doesn't explode trying to figure   
   this out. The missive arrived, engraved on a coconut, and reeked of Giant   
   Clams.   
       
   Roll da flic, Sylvia...   
       
   Swamp Swine Magazine,   
   Shuckmagosh, Ohio   
       
   Dear Reverend Visage,   
       
   Thank Elvis, you have returned to the land of the living... so to speak. The   
   plaintive baaing of your flock was beginning to annoy the neighbours and the   
   Snooz editors were getting ugly about paying some of your petty cash vouchers.   
   Incidentally, thank you for sending my address to all of the Johannes. They   
   arrived in a fearful state of undress, considering the harsh weather, and it   
   has taken all week to warm them up. (Unfortunately, a technical matter, trying   
   to get an old box to work, caused me to send the Johannes back out into the   
   cold.)   
       
   Since this is being written on the last day of 1994 I feel obliged to sum up   
   the year in some fashion and to make predictions about the coming year. (First   
   off, there is no doubt that in 1995, a Grammy will be awarded for "Best   
   Contribution to Rock & Roll"... to Kurt Coblain's shotgun.)   
       
   In the closing days of 1994, Region 12 was blessed by new depths of insanity,   
   what with the gendarmes paying an xmas morning visit to Barry "Tourette's   
   Poster Child" Carter as a result of a harassment complaint filed by the NC250,   
   James "Mom, Mom, He Called Me a Bad Word" Korolas. Charming... absolutely   
   charming. These people really know how to party and remain unswayed by the   
   peace&goodwill sentiments which usually pour forth in this season. I suggest   
   sending at least a case of Glow-in-the-dark Jesus night lights to these   
   barbarians so that they can be saved.   
       
   Not to be outdone, the NC259 threatened to sue the owner of a Planetary bird   
   bath dish who had been providing an echomail feed at no cost to net259. The   
   NC259, Lil' Bryan Federowski thought that unleashing legal weaseling would be   
   an appropriate form of thanks. Three lumps of coal for Lil' Bryan, I say, and   
   may the fresh Pampers be with him.   
       
   Even more amusing, the Duddy Grimspam of Net243, Chris "Give Me Money, honey"   
   Weisner, went ballistic when his toll booth brigandry on the information   
   highway was undercut by cheaper and better service from the REC. Chris has   
   been a pioneer in the commercialization of Fidonet. Our pennies and our edible   
   underwear should go out to him in his hour of deprivation.   
       
   I am almost certain to provoke a volley of Thorazine tipped darts from your   
   direction if I mention our RC, Rick "46 days of Ignomy & Ignorance Left to Go"   
   Johnston, but this is a good news kind of tidbit. For the *eighth" time this   
   year, Rick has successfully submitted the nodediff segment. Whoever said that   
   you couldn't teach amoebas new tricks?   
       
   We haven't heard from Bob "Bob" Satti, which was not surprising considering   
   that he must surely be huddled with Dallas Hinton and other similarly   
   enlightened RCs, trying to muster the collective skills to figure out how to   
   use an electric can opener so that they don't starve to death. If anyone out   
   in Fidoland happens to know the date when the conclave of cardinals lofted   
   Satti into the ZC position, Swamp Swine Magazine would appreciate a netmail.   
   We'd like to start the death-watch on his inglorious term of office.   
       
   I recognize that this is just one more example of my depraved condition, but   
   it just wouldn't seem right to let a year end go by without tilting at my   
   favourite windmill. For reasons which even escape me, I've been gathering   
   statistics for years on the ratios between original text and quoted text in   
   messages. You'll be delighted to know that the average echomail conference now   
   contains slightly more than 30% quoted text, as opposed to approx. 25% a year   
   ago. This is probably engendered by the advent of all of those dumbshit   
   Internet macros that technoweenies append to every message and which get   
   quoted by the thinking impaired in each response. Fidonet communication (I use   
   the word loosely) by the year 2000 will consist of smallish grunts followed by   
   pages of quoted material. To all of the the software authors who wrote   
   programs making it easy to quote messages: May you be condemned to spending   
   months with John Denver listening to him sing "Rocky Mountain High." I think   
   there will be a special irony involved with the fact that in years to come,   
   the BIKERSLUTS echo will probably be the last meaningful echo in all of   
   Fidoland.   
       
   I must go Visage. Ms. Labamba has returned, albeit with a seraphic glow on her   
   face. She has become insistent that I *do* something about the penguins which   
   established a rookery in her filing cabinet. She claims that she can't   
   concentrate with the smell of fish pervading the room. I suggest that we offer   
   her a a de-scented guppy as a peace offering.   
       
   Regards,   
   Doc Logger,   
   Bivalve Bartender & Clam Psychologist,   
   Farluga, South Pacific   
       
       
   Regards,   
       
   Roger   
      
   --- D'Bridge 3.99   
    * Origin: NCS BBS - Houma, LoUiSiAna (1:3828/7)