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WEB FED NEWS YEARBOOKS Earthdate September 2001 |
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WEB FED NEWS YEARBOOKS Earthdate September 2001 |
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INSIDE SCOOP |
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Along with the revival of old favorite events such as Scavenger Hunt, Mystery Guest and Duchy Safari, I want to introduce some new games into the Fed events calendar. I've got one or two ideas, and players have also made suggestions that could be turned into successful events. But sometimes we get ideas which would make for very exciting viewing for spectators, but probably wouldn't be so popular with the contestants. Or ideas that just wouldn't be fun for anybody! Here's some of those I have had to decide reluctantly not develop any further. Extreme Fighting Porter Roulette Challenge Pegasus What's My Commodity? Touch the Spaceship
As I sit here, staring at the blinking cursor of Notepad, I'm wondering just what I'm going to write about. I'm not flailing around in the dark because I'm unmotivated, but rather because right now I have the attention span of a two-year-old. Why? Well, right now I have enough antihistimine in my system to wire Venezuela for a century. I have a good reason for doing this, and it's not recreational. I'm sick. To be honest, I'm not sure how I got sick. In fact, on Thursday, I was feeling good. Then, all of a sudden, all I want to do is lay under my bed and hope for a limited nuclear war. Only an atomic bomb could clear my sinuses at this point. These antihistimines aren't helping much. Of course, this makes me insanely jealous, because all I really have the energy and strength for is sitting like a lump of cement in front of my computer, diddling around in Fed. And my little guy runs back and forth, from planet to planet, buying, selling, and slamming into the occasional wall. In Fed, I don't take the best of care of myself; I frequently forget to eat for days on end (I have been known to do this in real life, though, too). And yet, somehow, I never get sick. This is annoying. Of course, it also has its benefits. Can you imagine what would happen to our planets if we were down sick? All we could do is lay there and watch while everybody swarms down and carries off everything that's not nailed down while you can't do a thing about it. Naturally, though, when they get sick, we'd be more than happy to reciprocate. It'd be a nice, full life. What was I talking about? Oh, yeah, disease. Forgot. I'm not entirely sure what I'm sick with, or even if I am officially sick - it could just be a bad allergy attack. Not that that's much of a consolation; I still feel awful. For instance, last night, I didn't sleep more than an hour at a clip, so I'm already irritable today, and I don't predict much of a mood improvement. Then again, that's not really so serious; I don't plan on moving today, so my hostilities will probably be taken out on inanimate objects, such as alarm clocks. Despite all this, I still don't see why they warn you about taking too many of these little decongestant pills. It's not like they have any dangerous... side... effects... My keyboard is saying "ouch" every time I hit a key...
SCREAM
WITH FRUSTRATION! After a summer of having completely nothing to do (except play Fed!), you come into a culture shock when you are thrown back into the raging sea of a society of teenagers you haven't seen in four years. Instead of diving straight into them and trying to pick up where I left off, I hang back and examine what they do and where I should inject myself into the complicated system. In Fed, it's a free for all. The funny, the smart, the idiots, and the dastardly, are all accepted everywhere you turn. One who has been isolated will quickly learn (after the first high school fight between a couple of football players) that in real life, people will actually beat the crap out of you when you aggravate them. In Fed, you can simply offline your planet (wimp) and avoid your enemies. There isn't a comms system in real life, so you don't have to worry about constant blabbering of stupidity. Wait a minute, I take that back: "My Sociology teacher had us get everyone's name and learn one thing about that person. What the heck does that have to do with Sociology?" The only thing you can hope for is an authority figure to shut them up, but the school board's discipline system is so corrupted and full of hypocrisy… don't count on it. Fortunately, we have authority figures in Fed that hold their ground! We may dislike some of their decisions, but when things go in your favor, you begin to like them. Funny how life goes that way, isn't it? Finally, the system is controlled by the Idiot's brother: Jeb Bush. Jebya is trying to make a utopian education system. Students cannot, never, no way in the world graduate early even if school is doing them absolutely no good. The state audits what you eat and 15 minutes out of the school day, we're all forced (I don't exaggerate) to read. Maybe he's uploading subliminal messages for us to become learning drones during these 15 minutes? On the other hand, Federation has no emperor. Isn't it wonderful? We have our authority figures, but as far as I'm concerned, they aren't emperors/empresses. That's my complaint for the week. Maybe I'll find something else to complain about next week. Demi-Goddess Hazed, can't you make it all better with your divine influences? Questions? Comments? Death threats? Email them to: Chewbacon_and_famous@hotmail.com.
FED
OP-ED: CARE AND FEEDING OF ALIEN PETS Ever come across a cute alien creature that you JUST have to have as a pet? Well, here's a list of DOs and DON'Ts regarding that creature. DO listen to any instructions. A case has been sited in the past where fuzzy, cute creatures have turned into mean, nasty, not-so-cute creatures because someone did not listen to the rules. They broke not one, not two, but three of the rules regarding the creature, involing eating habits, light, and a certain liquid substance. DON'T feed the creature if you do not know what it can eat. I have seen a case where an alien stangely resembling a rottweiler was given a chocolate and ::shudder:: peanut butter mixture to eat. Even though the chocolate did not harm the creature at all, the rottweiler resemblance would be enough to make ME think twice. DO keep it away from your other pets. When a lovable alien creature was taken into a house as a member of the family, neighbors began to notice their feline companions disappearing. Although the creature often had kitty litter on his breath, no one ever thought twice about letting their cats near him. DON'T assume you can get rid of it. In the past, a certain planet was almost destroyed because of its confidence in its weaponry. Once its best weapon had no affect on the alien creatures, the population panicked. The key is to start planning right away how to rid yourself of this alien, no matter how harmless it seems. DO get it a phone if it so desires. How many times must a creature request to phone home before it is able to?
Questions? Comments? Pet blunders? Send an e-mail to Jelly@columnist.com.
I know, he's annoying and boisterous and obnoxious and has a big ego, but he's still my husband. For the past nine months, we've been in matrimony. Excluding Fed Survivor 2 when I divorced him but he won me back and my immortal soul. Or when we realized our marriage was never legal past the first 24 hours back in December. And maybe the time when Macnbc tried to trade me for a share in MacnBrelly studios. Then again, it might just be that we were declared man and wife at a slave auction. Anyway, the longer he's gone, the more things I have to think of to do to make it feel like he's still around. I made a model of him to sit next to me. It's just a rag doll, but I put a voice box in it with many of his favorite sayings. At random, it will spout out "Metallica rules!", among other phrases. While sitting in CDs waiting, however, I've been approached by a few people, asking me whether or not I'm going to wait for the return of Danny or if I'm going to be remarried soon. Evileric has offered to take Danny's place, as has Geiiga. They've both brought nice big dowries, but I've told them to place them towards the Danny fund. It's been growing nicely. Even tho I've heard about the fund for the kidnappers, I wasn't really involved. Until yesterday. On that day, sitting in CDs, the phone rang. Diesel's bardroid handed me the phone, shrugging. "Hello," I said, nervously. The voice was distorted but vaguely familiar. I knew if I kept them talking for long enough, I could figure it out. "Hello Ms. Derian. You've no doubt heard about who I am." He paused long enough for me to formulate a response, but before I could speak, he interrupted again. "No time for questions now, honey. You know what I have." "You still have my good for nothing husband, I suppose?" My tone was one of someone fed up and tired of waiting. "Don't you want him back?" I learned when I was younger never to put my cards on the table right away. "Sort of. But don't I need to pay you something to keep him?" He chuckled, making me wonder if he was sane. "Look, no games. I don't have 100 gigs. Maybe you should lower the price so I can have some help to get it." "Don't you want him back?" He repeated, mostly in awe. I tried to sound nonchalant again. "I don't have to pay you to get him back. I have to pay you to keep him. Didn't you hear about the snerts we've been seeing around?" He muttered. "You mean," he sighed, "we're probably not going to get the money." "Yeah, sorry." A click and I realized I had been hung up on. As soon as I hung up, I realized the identity of the caller and now I know exactly how serious this is. More information on this later.
Your comm unit relays a message
from Bella, "evening all :)"
Every once in a while, I get items in my mailbag other than planet review requests. I usually toss these in a drawer to be retrieved during those weeks when I’m just too lazy to finish walking through a potential Carpenter or Walrus candidate. This was one of those weeks. I thrust a paw into the drawer and pulled out several drool-covered letters at random. Dear Alsatian, Dear Afraid, Dear Al, Dear Curious, Dear Al, Please write soon, he’s
frayed the cuffs of my vac suit already. Dear Alarmed, Dear Alsatian, Yes Ma’am.
Funny as it may seem, one can find life lessons in the strangest of places. For example, I learned that it is quite unwise to provoke those in places of power such as people from the IRS. (Okay, maybe that's not so unforseen.) However, one can take many things away from our little faux universe in Fed. These lessons help us mainly in the game, but can also be transmuted into our daily lives.
Of course, none of this should be just accepted out of hand. Half of life is learning through experience, trial-and-error, and occasionally trial-and-conviction. Be that as it may, I think it would be prudent to suggest that you not attempt anything that will cause severe bodily harm, such as leaping off the Sears Tower or picking up your neighbor's kids. Because if you thought the Catsinians had a nasty bite, you haven't seen little Timmy's.
My tattooed ears got a workout on Saturday after Fed wasn’t available to the general populace. Once DataSpace was back in operation, I spent the rest of the day doing Richard Simmons impersonations with my ears – right one up (It’s Not), then left one up (My Fault). Right up, left up. It’s Not. My Fault. It had benefits, though; now I can impress all the female canines with my toned and conditioned ear-flap muscles. Perhaps some of them might mistake the new bulges for brains. Anyway, the shutdown Was Not My Fault. When I overheard Nightdroid talking about the software bugs on those flat Frisbee-looking holo thingies, I thought I’d try to help him out by chasing them off. Let me tell you though; there wasn’t anything soft about those insects. It nearly wore my teeth down to stubs before I had those holos chewed up enough to ensure there were no bugs lurking on them. I had good intentions. Right ear up (It’s Not), left ear up (My Fault).
DUCAL
ANNOYANCE OF HAUGE It is difficult being a Newsdroid at times. As I write this, the deadline is drawing closer and closer and I'm wondering why I didn't do this earlier Friday afternoon instead of waiting until after a high school football game. Well, after much thought (how do you define "much", huh?) I'm going to tell you about my ranking in the duchy of Hauge where nothing is dirtier than the minds of the people who make up this duchy. Rasal left for the Fedmeet and since he didn't leave anyone in charge, I took charge of the duchy and while holding my administrative position, I found a way to keep myself in higher command; I passed a bill declaring me the Duke's Annoyance when Rasal returned. I informed Rasal he left the duchy in good hands (he couldn't have picked anyone more competent, or wait, he didn't pick anyone at all). Over the next week I kept a low profile in the duchy hoping someone would blurt out his or her pet peeves and finally made my first act of duty. I bombarded Rasal with inane questions: "Why are you a duke? Because you're a guy? Well, why are you a guy, then?" Then I sprayed him with a few "why's" for maximum effect. It worked well and at that time, I was thinking I officially had the job. Later on, it came time to get a promotion: Lieutenant Ducal Annoyance. The title was altered a bit by Duke Rasal, but as long as I could continue to annoy him, I wouldn't argue over it. Later on, after doing some other inane action, I was promoted to General Ducal Annoyance (Rasal said I also earned it because I'm a general pain in the rump). I had mixed feelings about being Major Ducal Annoyance, but I didn't even think of complaining when I saw the general promotion flash before my eyes. Annoying your Duke/Duchess can be done directly or indirectly. I prefer indirectly because it annoys more than one person. When annoying the duke indirectly, I simply annoy another PO of Hauge and then he complains to Rasal. When Rasal inquires me of my actions, I usually lead him in circles for about an hour and change the subject as often as I can. It works very well. By now you should've guessed how I would annoy the duke directly: just talking to him in an effort to annoy the living hell out of him.
When it seems a bit cloudier out... And when things are going slow... If you don't have anything to do Before you sign off Fed When the staff is getting pestered When a staff member looks stressed
out
MAP OF
NOWHERE IN PARTICULAR It occurred to me yesterday, as I drove down the umpteenth no-name road in the middle of nowhere, that I had positively no clue as to where I was. All I saw were trees, and lots of them. Theoretically, my talented navigator had a clue as to my location on the globe, but I confess that at times I doubted the validity of that theory. So, as I watched the vultures begin to circle overhead, I came to the rapid conclusion that I rather enjoy travelling in Fed... much more so than on the US highway system. This has been a chronic problem in my family, particularly on my father's side. Our sense of direction is about as helpful in finding our destination as our sense of taste is. I'm better at it than my father was (although if you were to ask some people they'd emphatically deny that) so there is at least a slim hope that some day my children may be able to find their way around without the use of a GPS tracker. You can always hope. Yet, despite the fact that I cannot reliably travel more than a hundred miles from my home city without having to call Air/Sea Rescue, the instances of me getting lost in Fed are remarkably few. Sure, it does happen (happens to all of us), but with far deminished frequency. Some people advocate mapping on paper, or better yet, with a program, but I find this all to be a rather pointless activity. The only reason North America was found by Europeans was because they got lost on the way to China. I'm not saying I may find a new continent anywhere (I'd call it "Al"), but the possibility does exist that you could find something most people don't, and it could well be something worth seeing, unlike the Transuranics room which I inadvertantly found on one of my sightseeing-while-disoriented tours in Sol. The plus side of being lost in Fed is that the vultures don't start circling quite so soon. As for me, I'm going to put in a call to Air/Sea Rescue and, while waiting for them to find me out here in the woods, I'll wander around in Fed, discovering new and wonderful things. I'll see you all on the newly-discovered continent of Al. If there's anything you'd like to pass on to me, you can send it by carrier pigeon to Horatio_TheWriter@excite.com!
SOCIETY?
MAKE SENSE? HOW? Federation is a social game, so it somehow relates to everyday life. But if you sit back and look at Fed, then look at real life – some of it makes absolutely no intelligent sense! I'm sitting at a pep rally (or prep rally), people are bumping into other people, asking people who are sitting on bleachers to stand so they can pass by them; it's all a big hassle to get set up. As I sit there, all of the seats to the left of me are filled so I don't have to stand up to let people pass by me any longer. I looked to my right and saw a girl who is staring right at me. I continue to look at her thinking that she was trying to get my attention to tell me something, so I wanted to let her know I was ready to listen. Then, for no apparent reason, she starts making faces at me! I was shocked and found it rather difficult to keep from smiling. Instead, I raised my eyebrows to inquire what she wanted and she yelled, "Do you have a problem?!" I calmly shook my head, "No." Did she need me to develop one? "Then what the hell are you looking at?" I censored this phrase for you to read, she was a little more vulgar. Letting my eyebrows fall and coughing, I said, "Hey, you were looking at me when I caught eyes with you, so what's your problem?" I didn't think one person could release such vulgarity on another when she spoke to me again. Heh, I was wrong! Where's Danny when you really need him to take over such an argument (am I writing this?)? So I chuckled for a brief moment and turned to watch the show. I've seen (and sometimes started) some pretty senseless arguments in my life. Federation has a hoard of them in its history. Looking at one person in Fed will let the person being observed know, but then you can look at the outputted text as long as you want! But then again, looking at them repetitively can become quite annoying. So here ends another article that I try with much effort to relate to Fed. More complaints soon... maybe... if things get better. Okay, so that isn't likely to happen. Questions? Comments? Death threats? Email them to: Chewbacon_and_famous@hotmail.com.
People often have their moments of temporary insanity. It's like fame. Only, insanity generally lasts longer than fifteen minutes. Some people have been stuck in the state of "temporary insanity" so long that I guess it cannot be considered temporary. Why am I rambling about insanity? Well, I'm trying to explain the reason why I am hosting Federation Survivor 3. Someone asked me that the other day and I had no answer for them. After much consideration, I finally found my answer. Temporary insanity... it has to be temporary insanity. I mean, think about it. I'm going to be stuck on an planet with the SAME people for a whole week. And its not like I'll have the luxury of being voted off (ie Survivor 2). I will have to sit it out and actually put UP with the contestants for a week. You may say, "But Jelly! You rarely leave Chez D's anymore, therefore you have to put up with the same people all the time anyway." But that is a group I chose to hang out with. I mean, what if I end up with a planet full of tourists? Oh dear... someone HELP ME PLEASE!!! Questions? Comments? Got some advice? ...valium? Send an email to Jelly@columnist.com.
DANNY
MAKES HEROIC ESCAPE FROM KIDNAPPERS BY BEING HIMSELF People have been asking me, "Danny, why are you back? Didn't someone kidnap you?" Yes, they did. But, due to my unending heroism, I managed to escape. How? Well, I'll tell you. The kidnapping took place in CDs. The kidnappers basically just walked in, because what am I going to do, run? They then stuffed me in a bag, which was not easy considering my infamous Bjork swan is not a small article of clothing, and carted me off to a Secret Location. Their plan was perfect. Take me hostage, and threaten to release me if their demands were not met. Their plan, of course, had one major flaw. For the first couple weeks things were fine. I was duct taped to a chair, they spent their time taunting me, torturing me, etc. All very standard hostage-taking procedure. Then eventually, they got bored with the torture, slowed down the pace, and I began to talk. The kidnappers were definitely members of the infamous Unwashed Masses. They were, frankly, idiots. Hearing them speak was like watching pro wrestling. So eventually I just gave up the whole self preservation act and began to be Danny once again. The first couple of times they laughed, considering I was the one duct taped to a chair. After week one, they got a bit annoyed. Week two, they'd had it. First thing they tried was releasing me. By this time I was having fun with them, so, of course, I stuck around. They cut the duct tape, left the door open, gave me a ticket to Mars, and sent me on my way. So I called them losers. I mean, come on, they couldn't even kidnap right. Then they tried bribes. They offered me the current running total of the fund. I turned it down. They offered me control of their organization. Turned it down. Eventually they took the wimp way out and DDed themselves. Some kidnappers, eh? But by then I had realized that DataSpace needed me, so I stuck around for another week and watched it all go to hell from the shelter of the Secret Location until I got bored, at which point I returned. Shortly thereafter, everyone realized why they wanted me gone, and the Great Wheel of Life had made another revolution. And that's the story. Try to prove me wrong, I dare you.
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BY BEING HIMSELF