From jmrobins @ condor.sccs.swarthmore.edu Thu Apr 24 01:40:12 1997 Date: Wed, 26 Mar 1997 13:04:27 -0500 (EST) From: Snibor Eoj To: "_swat.org.swil" <_swat.org.swil @ swarthmore.edu> Subject: Journey of 1,000 bytes, or SWILnews #4 In the year of our Cod, 1.2 we set sail from the cold quay at Cork. We were sailing away with a cargo of bricks from the grand central hall in New York. (Bricks, which are red and can't climb trees -I) Our fine vessel, the SWILish Dover (not to be confused with the Irish Rover, which we sunk at the cold quay of Cork with our photon torpedoes. -A) ran over a clover and into a plover which did hover above 'er. (It rhymes if you have the right accent. -A) Then we hit a reef. "Abandon ship!" came the cry. We all jumped out. The reef, alas, was imaginary, existing solely in the minds of the writers of this epic adventure, and our ship sailed away without us. (Stupid characters; they'll fall for anything. -the writers) (The writers responsible for that misadventure have been sacked. -the management) The crew of the dread ship Dover floundered about in the icy waters of Sea of Swarthmore. The winds of the semester howled about their pitiful forms as they struggled against enormous tides of work and fun and oppression of the proletariat. (So if Fred Bush is the boytoy of the proletariat....? -I) Retry howled back. "OWOOWOOWORROROOWOOOOOOOOOOOooooooo...." howled Retry. "OWOOWOOWOWOROROOWOOWOWOOOOWOWOWOOOOROROOROR0OOORORoororoooooo..." howled the huddled masses, but in the other order, you see. (There is a zero hidden in the howling. The first person to find it will win a prize. Trust us. -the writers) (Oh well, Ignore found it, too late. -the writers) (Nya, nya! -I) (Quick Robin, to the Batplot! -Batman) Suddenly, out of the inky batness of the night, there swooped a big, bad, beautiful barrel of bat(hrooms). (Huh? -the writers) The masses prayed to the porcelin gods to save them. Unfortunately, it didn't work. So much for the masses. (Bwa ha ha! -the writers) (I never liked masses anyway. -R) (Reeks too much of physics for my tastes. -I) (I put on _DEODERANT_ this morning. What do you want, a flowergarden in my pants? -A) (Again? -R) (So THAT'S what they're.... oh, too easy. -I) (oh MY! -A) (Editor's note: This is a new paragraph.) (We'd put in that cute little P symbol for paragraph, but it doesn't translate that well over ASCII. Just like Annah's drawings don't translate well. Hint, hint, hint. -I) (Well, here's the best thing we could come up with: 101010100101001001001010010 100101001001010100121010001010. Make of it what you will. -A) (There is a 2 hidden in that number. The first person to find it must give us a prize. -the writers) First Intermission: Word search for the verbally challenged: bat b d m n e w y o r k dover a o a s t u p i d mass t v s g i t new york e s r There are two "bonus" hidden words. Can YOU find them? Ask your parents for assistance if necessary. Now, back to our story. If you can call it that. We rejoin our heroes (We have heroes? -I&R) as they prepare to drown. "All right, ready to drown?" "YESSIR!" "First make sure you've stretched out completely. We don't want any strained muscles. Ready?" glubbbb....glubbbb....glubbb..... (Not to be confused with Golubitsky. -R) The Seas of Swarthmore are merciful. (Anywhere else, they'd be the A's. -R) Well, sort of merciful. Well, let's be frank, they're downright deadly. So there goes that lot of characters. Fortunately, the writers have not invested any effort in developing these characters, so they figured we could start out with a brand new bat(ch), fresh off the development presses. Presenting: #, $, &, and !, our new characters! # was a young lad from the shores of Montezuma who was seeking the fabled halls of Tripoli. His octothorpesque swagger intimidated the passerby, as the brave, cute and fuzzy protagonist (Mark II -R) (It's a beta. -A) didn't finish his sentence. $ was a small dog, known for licking the faces of uppercase characters. He had greased many palms in his time, but that didn't make him bad. Well, only a little bit. Still, since we're going to kill him off, we'll let it slide for a little while. & and ! are dead. Already. They didn't even make it past the opening credits. (Wow, harsh DM. -A) So, redolent in their new regalia, the two companions set out across the SWILnews in a last attempt to bind the audience before they trashed this 13 K monstrosity (or went straight to the attendance list). The trials facing our two protagonists were mighty and massive. The great gods of Swarthmore imposed upon them eight Herculean labors in order that they might exchange their blood, sweat and cold hard cash for a 10" by 14" piece of paper and a laughably useless "education." Unbeknownst to the writers of the epic, the characters had other plans in mind. Fiendish and powerful plans. Plans to thwart the devices of the very gods themselves. Never before had such impudence crossed the face of Planet Campus and never before would such characters line up so neatly up and down (non-proportional fonts required for neat-o visual effect (tm)). Having hatched their plans in the fell lairs of the Sharplehell our heros set out on their journey. Many years they strived. Well one, or maybe less than one but because of the fiendish time demons that plagued their every move (undoubtedly impish pests sent by the vengeful gods to plague the heros at their every move). The characters, suprised at being targetted by the gods despite not having anything in these so-called plans thought that it might be a good idea if they switched epics into the LAY OF THE SWILNEWS Known it Eastern Moravia as The Ballad of Non-productivity. MOUNTAINS OF THE SWILBUSINESS: The St. Valentine's Day Massacre happened again and there was a good reception from the audience. We managed to defeat the evil demons of bad live music coming from the big room (dum dum dum! -R) by playing swing music. Otavia was applauded well-roundedly. Melissa was sung Happy Birthday to so it never needs to happen again. Amy entered the room and there was singing again (bah -I). T-shirts: Deadline is March 1st. Idea: collect old T-shirt designs and rejected ones. Jimmosk has volunteered to talk to Bhadrika. Singing happened again (It will die. You all will die. Everything will die -I). Kendra and Melissa R. walked in. Singing happened again (die, die, die -I). Submit to BEM. Submit to SWAPA. Next movie is Miracle Mile followed by Lathe of Heaven if we can get it. j7y walked in. I'm sure they'll get bored of singing Real Soon Now. MOUNTAINS OF THE NONSWILBUSINESS: Wink tonight. Join SWAPA -- it's bright green! The frozen chicken incident was related. Aaron Hertzmann was sung at (HAH! -I). Anime-athon -- has it been dissolved? Tune in next week... Megan's apartment is rentable for the summer and she needs a housemate for next year. Joel's web page has a flying knife named Melchizidek. Jimmosk wants to make a giant fork and spoon to match Chaos's knife. Melissa Running's pen is running out. The meeting degenerates from here. Das Attendance List 2/15 Seven-el Anna "My Favorite Color is Pink and I'm from New Jersy!" Hess (See, Anna, we WARNED you, don't put pictures as your name or we'll interpret them!!! -A,R,I) Otavia "" Propper (something was scribbled out -I) Jeremy "Ultimate Avatar of Evil, Avarice, Sloth, and Putting Off Reading Assignments Until the Last Minute" Dilatush (A true Swattie... -I) Joel "No-ed Naked SWIL? No." McNary Sarah "Guenivere says 'Meow'" Piatt Megan "Better than the Original" Powell Megan "Hey!!" Hallam David "Drip Drip" Phillips chaos "evil level on snood! 3 times! woo hoo!" golubitsky Aaron "Ber mir bust du schoen" Hertzmann Jim "lime jello? me??" Moskowitz Larry, Moe, and Curly (the Plants) Heather "sweet but treacherous" Weidner Amy "Put clever quote here ... no ... somewhere else" Swift Quiche "Brutally Consumed." Andrea "Incorporeal Consort" jere7my "What of God's an octopus?" tho?rpe