==========================================================================

== ==

== If you enjoy these please feel free to contact me and say hello. I ==

== can be reached at Sun via the Arpanet or the USENET. My email addr- ==

== esses are: ==

== ==

== {ucbvax, decwrl, allegro}!sun!dbercel!toto ==

== ==

== or ==

== ==

== dbercel@sun.com or dbercel@sun.arpa ==

==========================================================================

Hitch Hikers Guide To The Net

Episode 1 - First Meeting

One day, not long after tomorrow, Arnold Lint was busy scrolling through

the seemingly infinite reaches of the Net. All of a sudden the news

stopped with an abrupt thud, followed by the angry message "YOUR NODE HAS

BEEN REDUCED TO A LITTLE BLACK, GREASY SPLOTCH IN MY MEMORY SPACE!!". No

sooner had he assimilated this horrendous event when a great suction like

noise began to emanate from his terminal. "This is it", he said to

himself, "I'm going to die". The screen on his terminal imploded and he

suddenly found himself sucked into the terminal . . . . . . . . . . . .

(Arnold Lint regains consciousness, only to find himself in the company of

an odd trio. One of the trio is an apparently normal human male (named Rod

Perfect) and the second is a voluptuous young woman (named Gillian). The

third is also a normal male (named Xaphod Gronklebox), except for a third,

mechanical, arm and a 12" CRT on his shoulder that keeps scrolling "Pieces

of Eight, Pieces of Eight".)

Rod: Evening all! I'm Rod Perfect, awfully rude of you imploding on

us this way, you silly twit.

Arnold Lint:Sorry. Am I dead?

Xaphod: Obviously not, you semi-evolved simian! Are all you

net-landers so stupid. If you were dead would I be talking to

you? I'm Xaphod Gronklebox, the famous inter-net-al criminal

and dog molester - you must have heard of me.

Arnold Lint:Actually, no, I haven't.

Xaphod: Oh well, your loss. I just hijacked this node! It's called the

Infinity, isn't it wild. Just imagine the places we can go in

this baby.

(Rod notices that Arnold's eyes are transfixed on the young woman)

Rod: Her name's Gillian, at least that's what she wants to be

called. Actually, her real name is Gertrude Floogie, but she

didn't like it, so she changed it.

(Arnold Lint detects a mechanical sound to his right. A robot soon walks

into view)

Robot: My name is Martin. I am sure you will have an absolutely awful

time on this node, I always have. I do not know why they

insist on trying to do things to change the Net, they can only

make it worse. No matter what happens, some one always says

something stupid and ruins everything. Then someone else feels

obliged to a rebuttal, and on and on it goes. How awful.

Still, what do you expect from an imperfect Net.

Rod: Martin is a bit, well, depressing.

Xaphod: He's a real downer, man!

Martin: That's right, ridicule me. See what I care. I'm only an

android. Just another example of cruelty in this awful Net.

(The "Hitch Hikers Guide to the Net" defines cruelty as having to see

constant repetitions of the same salutary comment in more than 20

messages. History shows that a war was fought over the repetition of the

statement "If you don't like my name - push off, signed xxxx" appearing in

200 messages from the node of Moronicus. Since that time, any time a

salutary message is used more than 20 times, subsequent violators have

their pelvis screwed to a cake stand while they are forced to watch

repeats of "The Gong Show".)

Arnold Lint:Well, what do we do now?

Xaphod: We're on our way to Netrothea. (The 12" CRT on his shoulder

now starts repeating "Polly want a sedative, Polly want a

sedative") There's supposed to be all sorts of wild and

amazingly great things in that place!

Rod: Martin, set course for Netrothea!

Martin: All right, but you're not going to like it.

Gillian: What will we find on Netrothea?

Xaphod: Well, there's supposed to be a huge stock pile of data there

that we can sell to the Net for millions.

Arnold Lint:A stock pile of what?

Xaphod: Data! Data! You idiot. Knowledge is power in the Net. All that

data has been accumulating over the centuries. Just imagine

the amazingly amazing philosophical Net-discussions that it

stored. I mean, the Net is the focal point of all wisdom.

Just think of all that smart stuff! Wow!

( The "Hitch Hikers Guide to the Net" insists that the focal point of all

knowledge in not the Net itself. Rather, it is the fourth stall in the

mens room in Grand Central Station. No one has ever been dumb enough to

waste time disproving this wild claim, so the publishers avoided some

nasty laws suits.)

Xaphod: We'll have millions! We'll by everything! No, we'll have

billions, trillions, . . . .

(Xaphod begins to shake violently and froth at the mouth, then he falls

over backward. A few seconds later he comes to.)

Xaphod: Well, lets go!

Rod: You all right?

Xaphod: Yah, sure. Just the excitement of new conquests.

Arnold Lint:Looked more like Flamers-syndrome to me.

Xaphod: You should talk, you key-pounding half-wit.

Gillian: If we're going to go, lets go already.

Martin: Do we really have to?

Rod: YES!

(Just as the node starts on it's way, a host of flame-shaped vessels

became visible on the scanners)

Rod: Funny you should mention Flamers-syndrome.

Xaphod: Oh, hell!

Gillian: What are they?

Xaphod: Damn, those are ships belonging the Flamers. They go after

anything, no matter how pointless or unimportant it is. If

they catch us, we could suffer permanent brain damage, or

worse yet - join the Moral Majority

Arnold Lint:So this it it, we're all going to die!

Martin: I told you that you would like it.

Others: Oh Shut Up!

******************** End Of Part 1 ********************

Will Arnold and his new travelling companions escape the Flamers? Or will

they end up playing rock albums backwards at 66.6 RPM? For the answers to

these, and countless other pointless questions . . . Tune in next time . .

. same Net-time . . . same Net-channel

danielle

==========================================================================

== ==

== If you enjoy these please feel free to contact me and say hello. I ==

== can be reached at Sun via the Arpanet or the USENET. My email addr- ==

== esses are: ==

== ==

== {ucbvax, decwrl, allegro}!sun!dbercel!toto ==

== ==

== or ==

== ==

== dbercel@sun.com or dbercel@sun.arpa ==

==========================================================================

Episode 2 - The Flamers

(The Infinity's scanners are showing the Flamer's ships approaching fast.

Arnold Lint and Rod Perfect are frantically scurrying about. Xaphod is

trying to figure out how to fly the node, and Gillian is fixing her

makeup. Martin the android is off on a corner moping about how he's too

young to die.)

Xaphod: This is the node Infinity, we are on a peaceful, although a

bit mercenary, mission. Hold your fire.

(The commander of the Flamer's fleet appears on the screen. He appears to

be a normal human, except for a small silver halo stapled to his head.)

Flamer: I am Adolf Riteyus, commander of the Flaming Queen. You have

violated Flaming space and must be blasted. You will be given

a fair and drawn out hearing before you are found guilty.

Rod: We didn't know this was Flaming space!

Adolf: Ignorance is no excuse. Do you think that just because you

don't know something you shouldn't be responsible for it? Why,

if we didn't go around blasting people who thought they were

innocent, there'd be no order. The whole power structure of

the Net is based on the inalienable right to flame. He who

flames the loudest and strongest will prevail, for he will

have maintained purity of essence by not compromising his

principles. It doesn't matter what one flames about, as long

as one comes out a winner. Winning the argument for mandatory

retroactive birth control is one of our greatest victories.

We Flamers always win because we never give up. No, things are

either our way or they're WRONG.

[The "Hitch Hikers Guide to the Net" lists the Flamers as one of the most

argumentative races in the Net. History shows that the Flamers went to war

over the right to keep and bear tongue depressors. They also had a violent

and bloody discussion over the morality of Odor Eaters. The only time the

Flamers can be easily beaten in combat is on Sunday mornings when they all

watch evangelist shows, or during Ronco "Mr. Microphone" commercials

(their symbol of worship).]

Gillian: What should we do?

Xaphod: How 'bout evasive actions?

Marvin: It won't help.

Rod: Oh shut up! evasive action!

Adolf: Where do you come from?

Xaphod: Not from around here.

Adolf: Where are you headed?

Rod: Left.

Gillian: That's telling him?

Adolf: What is your favorite color?

Arnold Lint:My what?

Adolf: Your favorite color!

Rod: White!

Adolf: What is the maximum warp speed of a ladened Swaldrel?

Xaphod: Denebian or Rigelian?

Adolf: I don't know that . . . all right, enough evading, if you

don't surrender in the next five seconds I'll blast you right

out of existence.

Rod: Well, now what.

Adolf: Five!

Arnold Lint:What's this button do?

Adolf: Four!

Xaphod: That's the Illogical Drive. It propels the node on power from

hard drugs and acid rock. It's kind of dangerous though.

Adolf: Three!

Arnold Lint:Should we try it?

Adolf: Two!

Rod: Well, lets not . . . Four!

Adolf: Four!

Arnold Lint:So this is it, we're all going to die.

Adolf: Three!

Martin: I warned you about this trip.

Adolf: Two!

Xaphod: All right, all right, engage the Illogical Drive!

Adolf: One!

(Arnold Lint engages the Illogical drive. Images of the movie "Easy Rider"

float across the view port. "In-a-gadda-da-vida" starts coming across the

radio. The 12" CRT on Xaphod's shoulder starts scrolling "Wow man, what a

trip!". The scanners show that the Flamers couldn't handle the sudden

flood of sensory excitation and burst their brains. This only made their

reactions a bit slower though as the Flamer's brain is remarkably small.

The Infinity, charged up with Liquid Super Duetrillium, was able to make

warp speed and turn the corner before the Highway patrol picked them up on

radar. This was fortunate for it meant that they wouldn't be caught by

Spiny Norman, the 45 foot blue hedgehog that had been following them.)

Gillian: We made it.

Rod: Yah, where are we Martin.

Martin: We're way out man.

Xaphod: Oh, he's useless now - it'll take a while before he comes

down.

Arnold Lint:At least he isn't so gloomy.

Martin: Nooo body knows, the trouble I've see . . . have any of you

ever contemplated the death of a grain of salt?

[The "Hitch Hikers Guide to the Net" points out that the life and death of

a grain of salt can have amazing importance in the course of life on the

Net. On particular grain of salt (named Nigel) was responsible for the

overthrow of an entire government. Nigel gave his

. <- Nigel

life by falling into the barrel of a shotgun that was aimed at the planets

dictator. Thanks to lousy marksmanship on the part of the rebels, only

Nigel was able to hit the dictator. The rest of the buck shot killed the

dictator's pet salmon, Eric. Nigel, however, penetrated the dictators eye

and eventually killed him 8 months later just before a firing squad cut

the dictator in two.]

Rod: Shut Up!

Xaphod: Well, lets get back on course.

Arnold Lint:What are those?

(The scanners now show a dozen ships shaped like the number one heading

toward the Infinity.)

Xaphod: Those are Singularan ships. They're worse than flamers!

Rod: Oh yeah, they're worse than a visit from an insurance

salesman.

Gillian: They're normally mild mannered computer scientists. But

when they get on the Net, they become endowed with a

superhuman ability to talk about incredibly personal things,

things they couldn't otherwise discuss.

Arnold Lint:Sounds awful.

Martin: That's what I keep telling you.

Rod: Shut up!

Xaphod: If we don't get out of here fast, we'll end up

debating which finger a divorced person should

wear his or her ring on when going to homosexual

orgies - or worse, have to go to a Pot Luck Dinner

where all that the people do is talk.

******************** End Of Part 2 ********************

Will the crew of the infinity avoid the clutches of the Singularans? Or

will they end up exchanging recipes for onion dip. For the answers to

these and several other amazingly unimportant questions . . . Tune in next

time . . . same Net-time . . . same Net-channel.

toto 37:

==========================================================================

== ==

== If you enjoy these please feel free to contact me and say hello. I ==

== can be reached at Sun via the Arpanet or the USENET. My email addr- ==

== esses are: ==

== ==

== {ucbvax, decwrl, allegro}!sun!dbercel!toto ==

== ==

== or ==

== ==

== dbercel@sun.com or dbercel@sun.arpa ==

==========================================================================

Hitch Hikers Guide To The Net

Episode 3 - The Singularans

(Arnold Lint and the crew of the Infinity are trying to decide what to do

now that they are being faced by the deadly Singularans.)

Xaphod: Oh wow, just when we got past the Flamers, we have to run into

the 'Singles'. The Illogical drive won't work this time.

Rod: No, and neither will evasive actions. They all talk that way!

Gillian: What will we do then?

Arnold Lint:I'll tell you . . . we're all going to die.

Xaphod: Shut your cake-hole!

Martin: I tried to tell you this trip would be a real downer, but

would you listen?

Rod: Quiet!

Xaphod: I guess we should see what they want.

(Xaphod switches on the two way video telecommunicator and RadaRange. The

face of the Singularan captain appears on the screen. He is a normal

human wearing a T-shirt which says: "Have you ever really listened to

Manilow?" He is also sporting glow in the dark pants and 10 pounds of

silver and gold chains around his neck.)

Singularan: Hey, like I'm Dirk Thawtphull. We were cruising by and saw

your node. Interested in some meaningful relationships, free

from the moral depravity that otherwise infects the net.

Xaphod: Well, I kind of like depravity.

Rod: Yah, me too.

Dirk: Wow, you'd love our S & M encounter group then, fershure!

Arnold Lint:Your what?

Dirk: S & M encounter group. We get together twice a week and

exchange recipes and beatings.

Arnold Lint:How could a group like that command such a strong node?

Xaphod: Well, the sudden popularity of Jogging induced widespread

adoption of the principles of Single-ism. The subsequent rise

of the sport of 'Joggering' reduced the numbers of Singularans

to normal size. It appears that they may be making a come back

though.

[The "Hitch Hikers Guide to the Net" defines 'Joggering' as a sport

originated in Australia to combat the sudden drop in productivity caused

by having everybody jogging. Australian champion Bruce Karnage describes

the sport: "Well, there is a different way of catching both male and

female joggers. If it's a male, you flush him out into the open with

cigarette smoke, then chase him down in your 4 x 4 Land Rover. When he's

tired, bump him with the fender to stun him momentarily. Then get out and

with your driver pick him up by all fours and run him head-first into the

side of the truck. If it's a female, bait a likely spot with designer

jogging wear and then wait for a flock to arrive. When one becomes

interested, sneak up behind her, very quietly. Then when you are about two

feet away, and you can see the sun dancing on her richly tanned flesh

caressing her well toned figure into a visual symphony of delight, split

her skull with a handy two-by-four. It's a lovely sport!" The sport later

became known as 'Walkmaning'.]

Rod: We were on our way to Netrothea to pick up some ... uh ...

fuel, yah that's it.

Dirk: Well, we've got plenty of fuel, come on over and we'll let you

have it.

Xaphod: No, it's OK.

Dirk: I insist!

(The Singularan ship lets out a pink and purple polka-dot ray that engulfs

the Infinity. Arnold Lint and company find themselves in a room on the

Singularan ship. It is decorated right out off the floor of a K-Mart.

K-Tel's "Feelings" album is playing "You light up my existence" in the

background, on the ceiling is a gigantic mirror, and in one corner is a

gigantic mood-bean-bag chair.)

Gillian: How awful!

Martin: Actually, I kind of like it, in a depressing sort of way.

Rod: Quiet.

Arnold Lint:Where are we.

Dirk: You're aboard the Singularan vessel "Sincerity". You will

remain here until you learn to develop meaningful

relationships over the Net. Meaningful relationships based on

honesty, truth, and having nothing to do with physical

appearance. Relationships which will grow as you and your

partner, or partners, share, or don't share, things you have,

or don't have, in common. You will learn how to have every

other sentence include the words 'special' or 'meaningful

relationship'.

Xaphod: If he says "meaningful relationship" once more I'll have to

pray to the porcelain buddha.

Rod: Sickening, isn't it.

Dirk: Right, enough of this. Wait here and we'll start programming

you for meaningful relationships.

(Xaphod bends over a nearby table and vomits, the 12" CRT on his shoulder

starts scrolling "Uuuggghhh")

Gillian: What did you mean about "programming" us?

Dirk: We'll have to make you compatible with the environment and

take away all your inhibitions when discussing your personal

life on the Net. You'll be subjected to countless sessions

watching repeats of "The Dating Game", "The Newlywed Game",

and "Celebrity Wife Swapping". And that's only Stage 1!

[The "Hitch Hikers Guide to the Net" points out that the three old earth

TV shows just mentioned were actually the basis for a huge

inter-conglomerate stock monopolizing scheme started by The Phone Company.

The questions asked on these shows were actually coded messages issued by

The Phone Company to the conglomerates it was working with. These messages

told the associated conglomerates about which stocks to buy based on

information gained by The Phone Company by listening in on the phones of

important companies. The client corporations paid The Phone Company 1

million dollars for each such message. The seemingly idiotic contestants

were, more often than not, government agents trying to break The Phone

Company's code. Chuck Barris, the originator of the shows, was later found

to be a financial genius, rivaled only by Howard Hughes.]

Rod: We gotta get put of here!

Xaphod: Yah.

Rod: You know what really gets Singularans put off? Rudeness and

crudeness!

Arnold Lint:What?

Rod: Rudeness, if we act real crude and rude, they'll beg us to

leave!

Xaphod: Great, let's try it!

(Dirk returns with three gorgeous women and one well built female model

android.)

Rod: (To the first girl) Wow, look at that pair!

Xaphod: (To the second girl) That's a lovely grab!

Rod: (To the third girl) OK love, drop 'em!

Martin: (To the female android) I wave my private parts toward

approximate vector coordinates.

Gillian: (To Dirk) Say Dirk, if you get some Saran-Wrap and chicken

wire, I'll get the honey and the plunger.

Dirk: Get out of here you disgusting filthly maladjusted perverts!

(The three women and one android exit with great haste. The crew of the

Infinity is beamed back to their node.)

Dirk: Good riddens. Put on the flip side of "Feelings" and pass the

cheese dip. It's their loss, for only we know what true

meaningful relationships are. Only we know the feeling of

wholeness that comes from showing, or not showing, what one

feels, or doesn't feel, with someone special we care about. We

aren't hung up on physical things, we are spiritualists. At

least, that's what we tell everyone else.

Xaphod: Right, now on to Netrothea, nothing can stop us now.

******************** End Of Part 3 ********************

Will the crew of the Infinity reach Netrothea, or will Nothing stop them?

For the answers to this, and other useless questions . . . Tune in next

time . . . same Net-time . . . same Net-channel.

danielle

==========================================================================

== ==

== If you enjoy these please feel free to contact me and say hello. I ==

== can be reached at Sun via the Arpanet or the USENET. My email addr- ==

== esses are: ==

== ==

== {ucbvax, decwrl, allegro}!sun!dbercel!toto ==

== ==

== or ==

== ==

== dbercel@sun.com or dbercel@sun.arpa ==

==========================================================================

Hitch Hikers Guide To The Net

Episode 4 - E.C. (The Extra Commercial)

(Arnold Lint and the crew of the Infinity are on their way to Netrothea.

They have successfully escaped both the Flamers and the Singles.)

Xaphod: How much longer till we reach Netrothea?

Martin: Too soon.

Rod: Quiet!

Gillian: I can't wait to get there!

Arnold Lint:I'm just glad we're still in one piece.

Martin: It doesn't take much to make you happy, does it?

(All of a sudden, a blinding light fills the bridge of the Infinity. When

the light fades, a small, sickeningly adorable creature is revealed. He is

wearing a cap which says "I'm cute, buy me!")

Gillian: What's that?

Xaphod: That's E.C. - the Extra Commercial!

Arnold Lint:The what?

Rod: The Extra Commercial. The most commercialized being since

Santa Claus!

["The Hitch Hikers Guide to the Net" lists Santa Claus as a being from

Pluto who suffered severe brain damage when his space ship crashed on

earth. Every year the silly old twit tries to fly an old sleigh and a

flock of equally stupid reindeer back to Pluto. Unfortunately, his reverse

gravity modulator is not 100 percent so he never quite gets out of Earth's

orbit. This is just as well as the jerk lost all his deep space gear. Many

people on earth have mistaken the boxes of Kentucky Fried Chicken he

carries on his unlikely space craft (as rations for the trip to Pluto) for

presents to be distributed to children. In actuality, the only reason Fred

Glarn (his real name) ever climbs down chimneys is because he is totally

wasted on Selurian Brandy and he is merely looking for a likely spot to

sleep it off. (Why else would his nose always be red?).]

Xaphod: I've never met E.C. before, I always though he was just some

massive advertising ploy.

Gillian: (To E.C.) Hello, I'm Gillian.

E.C.: (In a heavy New York - Jewish accent) Oy vey, vhat a trip.

Say goylie, you're cute.

Xaphod: Huh?

E.C.: Don't call me E.C., it's a meshugina name. My real name is

Phil Moskowitz.

Arnold Lint:Phil Moskowitz?

Phil: Yes!, Vhat did you expect - Ricardo Montalban?

Rod: You're the Extra Commercial?

Phil: Don't laugh, my brother Saul owns Jordache Jeans!

["The Hitch Hikers Guide to the Net" states that the Jordache Jeans

Company was actually a very clever marketing ploy by the makers of

Preparation H. It was their intention to boost the sales of their rectal

paraphernalia by inducing Americans to stuff their gludius maximus into

overly confined garments. The ploy did not succeed.]

Gillian: What are you doing here?

Phil: I'm on my vay to the Net Christmas Special. This year it's

being hosted by Johnny Arson and Bud McMolson. Vhen you're a

purely commercial item like me, you have to travel a lot.

Xaphod: But you're Jewish, what are you doing on a Christmas special?

Phil: Believe me, it vasn't my idea. Some people out there actually

think I'm Christ reborn. I knew a kid in Brooklyn name Jesus

Martinez, but that's as close as I ever got. Anyvay, I'm hot

right now in the market, so I go on any show they can get me

on.

Arnold Lint:That's unbelievable! How'd you get started in the business?

Phil: Vell, I tell ya'. One day I'm sitting there, eating a lox on

rye, and some movie man comes up to me and says: "I'm gonna

make you are star". Next thing I know I'm in some nutso movie

vith a bunch of little kids. I hate little kids. No sooner

does the movie hit the screens than there are E.C. video

games, clothing, silverware, contraceptives, books, posters,

and kinky undergarments. You name it and I was on it. Then

came the TV shows and all the publicity events - I actually

cut the ribbon on the Jimmy Carter Memorial Brothel and Pro

Shop! Then I had to appear at the opening of "Nukes are Us" -

a store for budding nuclear powers.

Xaphod: Wow, that's wild.

Phil: Vell, I gotta run.

Gillian: Bye!

(The bright light once again fills the bridge, it fades and E.C. is gone.)

Arnold Lint:That was incredible!

Martin: If you say so!

Rod: Quiet!

Xaphod: Well, we're here . . . Netrothea!

Martin: Oh joy and yummies.

******************** End Of Part 4 ********************

What will Arnold Lint and the crew of the Infinity find on Netrothea? For

the answer to this spine-tingling question . . . Tune in next time . . .

same Net-time . . . same Net-channel. Also, be sure not to miss the BIG

NET CHRISTMAS SPECIAL starring Johnny Arson, Bud McMolson, Richard

Nixon, Barry Manilow, Richard Simmons, and Teddy the Wonder Lizard.

danielle

==========================================================================

== ==

== If you enjoy these please feel free to contact me and say hello. I ==

== can be reached at Sun via the Arpanet or the USENET. My email addr- ==

== esses are: ==

== ==

== {ucbvax, decwrl, allegro}!sun!dbercel!toto ==

== ==

== or ==

== ==

== dbercel@sun.com or dbercel@sun.arpa ==

==========================================================================

Hitch Hikers Guide To The Net

Episode 5 - Netrothea

(The Infinity is about to land on Netrothea. It is here that Xaphod hopes

to find a wealth of data to sell back to the Net for immense profits.)

Rod: Okay Martin, lets land.

Martin: Do we have to?

Xaphod: Yes!

Martin: Very well.

Gillian: Cheer up Martin, maybe you'll meet a nice lady android.

Wouldn't that be nice.

Martin: Not really.

Arnold Lint:How 'bout a nice male android?

Martin: That's right more abuse, aren't things bad enough already?

Besides, how can an android be homosexual? Come to think of

it, we can't be heterosexual either! How dreadful.

Rod: Quiet, we've landed.

Xaphod: How fantastic!

Gillian: How wonderful.

Martin: How awful.

All: Oh shut up!

Xaphod: Right, lets go!

(The door to the Infinity opens to reveal the landscape of Netrothea. It

is indeed a strange landscape. The ground has the consistency of a

partially frozen waterbed covered with rich Corinthian leather. Flames

spring forth from the soil in primordial splendor, displaying brilliant

patterns of red and green. Off in the distance, great orange hills

reflect the light of the purple sun. Polka-dotted polygram clouds move

swiftly in uneven patterns across the blue and grey striped sky. The hills

seemed to have been polished by the winds of time into huge reflective

mounds which make light dance on the valleys below. Great forests of

trees are off to the right. The trees are only 4 feet tall, but 20 feet

wide. Stainless steel leaves hang from their bubble gum branches as pink

and black steam spews from their exposed roots. The air stings with the

scent of stale oysters and rotting, 3 day old, MacDougals BigMuck's.

There is still no sign of civilization. The 12" CRT on Xaphod's shoulder

starts up: "This is David Halfmind. Tomorrow on 'Good Morning Idiots',

we'll discuss herpes, the death penalty, and aerobics at the office. We'll

also be talking with Yassir Arrafat about fashions for hot climates . In

addition, we'll have some wonderful holiday recipes from the Ayatollah

Khomieni. Also, don't miss our special feature, 'A trip to the Police

Morgue', which we'll show right after the weather report."]

Gillian: Ugh, how awful.

Martin: That's what I keep telling you.

Xaphod: Wow, what a great place for a vacation.

Arnold Lint:Yah, if you enjoy misery.

["The Hitch Hikers Guide to the Net" lists Netrothea as being in the top

10 places frequented by masochists. The wretched climate and unfriendly

people (who used to inhabit the place) made Netrothea about as much fun as

a spinal tap performed with a boat hook. Netrothea's popularity waned as

more and more places of vastly inferior quality were either discovered or

created. When these new, modern, haunts-for-the-very-sick hit the market,

old establishments (like Netrothea) were doomed. The Netrothean government

tried to boost tourist trade by offering 'Club Mud' vacations to

Netrothea's famous 'Bile Bog', but it was to no avail.]

Martin: I can't even enjoy misery, I hate this place too.

Rod: Quiet!

Xaphod: Lets go over there.

(Arnold Lint and crew make their way around the 20 foot wide trees, past

the 40 foot tall monolith, under the stop watch draped over the towel

rack, and over the 10 foot diameter pimple. They finally arrive at a door

set into the ground. A stuffed penguin stands by the door, on it's head is

a button labeled "Ring for Verbal Abuse". Etched into the door are the

words:

"X = 101010 Copyrighted by Deep Thought, so bug off".)

Arnold Lint:One-Zero-One-Zero-One-Zero? What does it mean?

Xaphod: I don't know?

Gillian: Should we press the button?

Rod: Might as well.

Xaphod: (Trying to open the door) Yah, the door's locked anyway.

Arnold, why don't YOU press the button.

Arnold Lint:Thank you very much, I think not.

Martin: All right, I'll do it.

(Martin presses the button, the door flies open, and a man pops out to

great the Infinity crew. He is dressed in a business suit and sports a

"Stupidity is it's own reward" button on his jacket.)

Man: Well, what do you want you smelly, squirming insignificant

vermin?

Rod: We wanted to get in the door . . . who are you?

Man: Oh, I'm Flarg Brittashik, awfully nice to meet you.

Xaphod: (Confused) You're names' what?

Flarg: FLARG BRITTASHIK, what are deaf as well as stupid? What a

bunch of mindless, horrific oafs!

Arnold Lint:Look you, just let us in the door and then push off!!

Flarg: Why didn't you say so, follow me.

(Flarg descends down the stairs, the rest follow. The stairs form a

spiral, with a half-gainer twist, descending at an incredible rate to the

interior of Netrothea. The stairway is lit by the glow from halibut fished

out of the sea around the nearby nuclear power plant.)

Rod: Where are we going?

Flarg: WHERE ARE WE GOING?! What a perfectly stupid question. We're

obviously going down you sickening, malodorous pervert!

Gillian: Do you realize that you're insulting us, and then the next

moment being polite to us?

Flarg: Oh, am I? I hadn't noticed.

Rod: Well it's bloody annoying, mate.

Flarg: Well, tough rocko's if I do, you wiper of other people's

behinds!

[The act of wiping other peoples behinds, according to "The Hitch Hikers

Guide to the Net", was once considered a quite honorable profession in

certain areas of the Net. In fact, many of the old regimes went so far as

to have Royal Behind Wipers (or RBW's for those readers used to TLA's -

three letter acronyms) whose sole task it was to walk around behind his

or her appointed monarch with toilet paper in hand and perform the

specified duty. Although this may seem an unpopular job, the pay was quite

good. As such, positions as Royal 'Pooper Scoopers' were often granted

based on tournaments. These tournaments resembled the earth's olympics

except for two facets. First, all events (actually, they only lasted for

one event) were fought to the death. And second, any event thought up had

to involve the creative use of human excrement. ]

Martin: You know, I would have thought any place as awful as this

might have been amusing to me. But it's just as bad as the

rest of the Net. Good thing I'm just an android and don't

have to ponder the reasons why the Net is as it is. I can just

be content knowing that it can only get worse.

Xaphod: One more word out of you, and I'll go at your memory banks

with a chain saw!!!

******************** End Of Part 5 ********************

What will Arnold Lint and the crew of the Infinity find in Netrothea? Will

Flarg Brittashik insult them to distraction? Or are they already

distracted? Will Xaphod end up doing a lumber jack-job on Martin's memory

banks? In the off chance of being told the answers to these, and other,

ad-libed questions . . . Tune in next time . . . same Net-time . . .

same Net-channel.

danielle

==========================================================================

== ==

== If you enjoy these please feel free to contact me and say hello. I ==

== can be reached at Sun via the Arpanet or the USENET. My email addr- ==

== esses are: ==

== ==

== {ucbvax, decwrl, allegro}!sun!dbercel!toto ==

== ==

== or ==

== ==

== dbercel@sun.com or dbercel@sun.arpa ==

==========================================================================

Hitch Hikers Guide To The Net

Episode 6

(Flarg Brittashik is leading the crew of the Infinity down the contorted

stairway toward the interior of Netrothea.)

Martin: What an awful place, why do we bother to go on?

Xaphod: Quiet!

Flarg: Actually, he's right. One of the things we Netrotheans

proved was that the Net does not actually exist. It

therefore follows that nothing we do really matters at all.

Arnold Lint:What?

Flarg: Is that all you can say you mindless, facial emation!

Rod: What do you mean "we don't exist"?

Flarg: Well, first we approached the problem assuming that we were

a unique Net. There is none other like us in the entire

domain of space, right?

Rod: Right . . .

Flarg: Well, if we are alone, how do we know we are? Without

another Net to tell us we are, we may not be. We could just

be the figments of our imaginations. How do you KNOW that

that cat over there does in fact have 5 legs? You see it,

but what's to say that it is actually there. Do you follow?

[********************************************************************

What Flarg Brittashik was pointing out was the famed five-legged cat of

Felix Major. The "The Hitch Hikers Guide To The Net" indicates that the

myth of the five-legged cat was actually the result of the heavy

drinking done on Felix Major. You see, the female of the species on

Felix Major is covered with a blue slime which eventually dissolves her

mate if contact is maintained for too long. Because of this, the men on

Felix Major spend a lot of time in bars discussing the differences

between being Kosher and being a Cannibal. They tend to drink an awful

lot while discussing this topic. In their usually intoxicated state, it

is not difficult to mistake a cat for having a fifth leg if viewed side

ways (or as having one eye if viewed from the rear). The "The Hitch

Hikers Guide To The Net" also points out that the favorite drink on

Felix Major is called the 'Intesto-rout'. It is mixed as follows: Mix

equal parts of gin, whiskey, rye, vodka, rum, bourbon, and brandy. Add a

cup of beer that has been left in a gym locker for 3 days. To this add 5

Ex-Lax pills, 1 Valium, 2 No-Doz, and half a lid of grass. Mix it well

in a Hamilton Blech mixer. Now add a rotten egg, a decaying guppy, the

spleen of 10 freshly killed frogs, and about a fist full of goat brains.

Again mix it all up. To add a bit of zip to the mixture, add some

Drain-O. Now put the whole mixture under a dead horse for 37 hours.

After it has aged, filter it through the right kidney of a rabid llama

and serve it in a slightly soiled bed pan with an olive. Felix Major,

quite obviously developed quite a drunk driving problem. The solution

arrived at was simple and logical. They simply ground up offenders and

added them to 'Intest-rout's. Rumor has it that this extra ingredient

gave the drink the full bodied taste it had always been lacking.

*********************************************************************

Arnold Lint:It's the old "Does a falling tree make a sound if there's no

one there to hear" story, right?

Flarg: Ooo! 'The falling tree makes no noise!' Aren't we the

smart-behinded little cretins!

Xaphod: No, you idiot! It means . . . uh . . .

Flarg: Actually, he's quite correct. We were not happy with finding

out that we may be alone, so we then assumed that there was

the possibility for an infinite number of varied Nets.

Gillian: How nice.

Flarg: Yes, well, it now became apparent that our one little Net

was entirely insignificant in the scope of things in

general. Mathematically, our percentage of existence

amounted to 1 over infinity, which is too small to even

consider. Worse yet, since no other Net has ever contacted

us, we may REALLY not exist after all. We could REALLY be

mirages of the cosmic mind.

Xaphod: Wow, that's heavy!

Flarg: Quiet, you drugged out excuse to evacuate my stomach on the

table!

Rod: Go on already!

Flarg: Well, after taking many heavy drugs, we finally arrived at a

solid decision.

Gillian: What was it?

Flarg: We agreed that our existence was so insignificant that

anything we did really wouldn't matter. Hence our national

slogan changed to "Who Cares". After all, in light of

everything I've revealed to you, it must be perfectly

obvious that it just doesn't matter what you do or say on

the Net.

Arnold Lint:Boy, I hope the rest of the Net doesn't hear that.

Flarg: Oh, they did. That's why they attacked us and wiped out most

of Netrothea. They just couldn't accept that all the fuss

they were making really didn't amount to a damn thing.

[********************************************************************

"The Hitch Hikers Guide To The Net" points out that the Netrotheans were

somewhat renowned for exploding the faiths of others. Prior to their

non-existence fetish, they published a series of treatises titled: "Who

is this guy God anyway?", "Everything you always wanted to know about

the benevolent Lord, but were afraid to ask.", and "Well, that's it for

God." The Netrotheans had no fears of being wiped out for their bizarre

views. They believed that since what we call 'death' is theoretically

infinite, and what we call 'life' is so finite and miserable (what with

everybody wearing digital watches and coveting thy neighbor's bits of

green-dyed, processed plant matter), we must surely have gotten things

backwards. They therefore had no problems dealing with the after-life.

*********************************************************************]

Xaphod: Wow, that's wild!

Flarg: Now if you really want to blow your mind, consider this: If

the Net doesn't really exist, do we exist? If we exist, what

is the point of our existence? What is the medium of our

communication if there really is no Net? What does it all

mean?

Arnold Lint:I don't know?

Rod: That's obvious.

Martin: I'm kind of relieved that nothing really exists. It's sort

of reassuring to know that all the misery I've endured on

the Net really doesn't affect anything anyway.

Gillian: Quiet Martin. Don't you know what this all means! It means

that the constant day to day struggle to keep up with the

Net is all pointless. Posting news is futile, reading news

is futile, thinking about news is futile - because where

ever the news came from or goes to, what ever thought up the

news - none of it exists - and neither do we!

Rod: Yah, just think. We may have been posting news to a void!

Xaphod: Wait a minute! We get replies to our news!

Flarg: We thought of that too. But consider the odds against our

actual existence. They could be considered random at best.

The odds of other beings also existing comes down to the

same random probability. It follows that any communication

would have to be a random coincidence. Now, consider that

the only communication we see is simply processed electrical

impulses. Consider the quantity and speed of the impulses.

The odds against them coming together in a logical

combination are astronomically bad. It follows, then, that

what we mistake for communication with other beings (which

don't exist either) are simply galactic burps in our faces,

if we existed.

Xaphod: Wow!

Flarg: Well, you wastes of space, I've got to go and kick my dog

through a hedge.

(With that Flarg disappears in a burst of purple smoke. When the smoke

clears, only a can of "Putrina Rat Chow" remains.)

******************** End Of Part 6 ********************

What other fantastic things (which don't exist) will be revealed on

Netrothea (which also doesn't exist). To find out . . . Tune in next

time (a bizarre concept, time) . . . same Net-time . . . same

Net-channel.

danielle

==========================================================================

== ==

== If you enjoy these please feel free to contact me and say hello. I ==

== can be reached at Sun via the Arpanet or the USENET. My email addr- ==

== esses are: ==

== ==

== {ucbvax, decwrl, allegro}!sun!dbercel!toto ==

== ==

== or ==

== ==

== dbercel@sun.com or dbercel@sun.arpa ==

==========================================================================

Hitch Hikers Guide To The Net

Episode 7

(Xaphod, Gillian, Rod, Martin, and Arnold Lint continue their descent

into the heart of Netrothea. Flarg Brittashik has vanished leaving only

a tin of Putrina Rat Chow in his stead.)

Xaphod: Wow, that was far out!

Martin: If you say so.

(All of a sudden, the 12" CRT on Xaphod's shoulder starts up . . .

Star Wars type music kicks in . . . Once upon a time, in a Net far, far

away, a band of steadfast hackers are fighting a gallant fight. Vast

swarms of nauseatingly repetitious messages are swamping their news.

They must retaliate. This is their story . . . This is Zar Wars. . .

All the nodes beginning with the letter Z have banded together, they are

tired of always being last because the Net does everything

alphabetically. They decide to stage a bold attack and make their

presence known! to this end they devised a cunning scheme to echo their

news articles across the known Net several multiple times each posting.

In this way, they would be assured the attention they feel they deserve.

Net.landers are at this moment preparing for a counterattack. They are

preparing massive Photocomplaint rays, Gargantugripe bombs, and the ever

deadly Super plasmicautor - ever berating mega moleculo zapper dingle

dangle dongle hyper intensified- new and improved timewarping complaint

field generators. The last device is one of the most feared (and hardest

to pronounce) in the known Net. Its power is so incredible that grown

men have been known to pull out their own livers rather than be

subjected to its awesome force.)

Rod: Turn that off!

Xaphod: (Doing so) Yah, what a drag.

Arnold Lint:Well, what do we do now.

Gillian: I guess we keep going.

Martin: Do we have to?

All: Yes!

Arnold Lint:Sure could go for a cup of tea.

Xaphod: (Mumbling to himself) Stupid git!

Martin: Do you people really think this is necessary? Why can't you

be satisfied with things as they are? Must you always try to

change them - things can only get worse.

Xaphod: Look you morose metal moron, we're going on so shut up. Look

upon this as an adventure into a whole new life.

Martin: Oh no, not another.

(The stairwell they are on leads into a huge room. So huge that it

defies commentary, only to say that it is, in fact, bloody huge. Off in

the distance there is a faint light. Arnold Lint and company head for

it. Two weeks later they arrive. the light is being emitted from a

strange kind of TTY. There is a plaque nearby which reads: "For the

answer to Life, the Net and Everything, type in 'Help'. For dirty books

or leather goods, ring bell for service. The Inter-Net Megamind Exchange

and Novelty Shoppe thanks you for your patronage of our establishment".)

Arnold Lint:Wow, the answer to Life, the Net, and Everything!

Xaphod: Who cares, lets get at the dirty books!

Rod: Yah! I wonder if they have "Advanced Necrophilia for

Scientists and Engineers" or "Yes, you can be a Toad-Sexer"?

Arnold Lint:Dirty books, way out here?

Xaphod: Of course, depravity is the universal language.

Pornographic material is generally considered legal tender

anywhere in the Net. I once lived for a whole year on

Carnolea, just on trading my old "Gland" magazines and

lubricants for supplies.

Gillian: (Disgusted by the antics of Rod and Xaphod)Lets see the

answer already - boy what sicko's.

Xaphod: OK, but then can we get some dirty books.

(Xaphod types in 'HELP' to the keyboard. Strange hummings and buzzings

start to emanate from the TTY. The cryptic characters "101010" appear on

the screen.)

[********************************************************************

"The Hitch Hikers Guide To The Net" points out that the number 42, when

viewed in it's binary representation is in fact, quite revealing. There

are many theories for what it actually means. The adult magazine "Spurt"

suggests that it is the perfect pattern for an orgy, three males and

three females being the supposed ideal. The actual shape of the

characters of '101010' seem to bear this out. Also the fact that it does

go 'boy-girl-boy . . . ' also helps. The religious magazine 'Modern

Moral Majority' (MMM) suggests that it is in fact a message from God.

The pattern indicates that two of the same sex shall not have

intercourse. The fact that there are equal numbers of both male and

female indicates that monogamous relationships are the thing to do.

Also the fact that, when read, left to right, the man always comes

first, really gave them an edge on the ERA (who really didn't listen

anyway). Most other people simply wondered why everyone thought the

binary sequence had anything at all to do with sex.

******************************************************************]

Rod: That's it?

Xaphod: Apparently.

Gillian: There must be more than just 42.

Martin: I certainly hope not.

Xaphod: Well, lets try to get some more info!

(Xaphod once again starts typing at the TTY. Characters flash and

buzzers buzz. The TTY finally gives up, it types out: "All right

already, if you really want the answers, take the service elevator to

the 127,366,247th floor, then follow the green line till it meets the

blue line till it meets the orange line till it becomes the slightly off

white line. Then climb out the window, jump off and ask for Ralph.

He'll tell you the whole story. Now push off, I've had a bad day. (To

itself now) Where did I put those Valliums. Crap, I need a drink . . )

Xaphod: Oh well, what do we have to loose.

Martin: Not much really, just our lives. Of course, my life means so

little already, I doubt I'd mind if it were lost.

Rod: Quiet.

******************** End Of Part 7 ********************

What is the actual answer to Life, the Net, and Everything? Will Arnold

Lint get his tea? Will Xaphod get his dirty book? Will the net sponsor a

Pot-Luck-Orgy? For the answers to these and many other pointless

questions . . . Tune in next time . . . same Net-time . . . same

Net-channel.

danielle

==========================================================================

== ==

== If you enjoy these please feel free to contact me and say hello. I ==

== can be reached at Sun via the Arpanet or the USENET. My email addr- ==

== esses are: ==

== ==

== {ucbvax, decwrl, allegro}!sun!dbercel!toto ==

== ==

== or ==

== ==

== dbercel@sun.com or dbercel@sun.arpa ==

==========================================================================

Hitch Hikers Guide To The Net

Episode 8 - The Flamers Return

(The crew of the Infinity are proceeding to where the TTY directed them.

A place where they would find out more about the answer to Life, the

Net, and Everything.)

Arnold Lint:This is sure a long trip.

Martin: Why even bother to travel through the Net. All that happens

is that you are bombarded with countless meaningless

messages from Singularans about how they feel, and how they

feel they should feel, and how others feel they should feel.

You just get over that and some droning Flamer gets on about

how drunk drivers should be allowed to retain their licenses

only if they have oral sex with a diseased Yak, and they go

on, and on, and on, not even realizing that no one is really

paying attention. Just when you finally get up nerve to post

something, some jello-brained fanatic gets on your case

about how you should spell things correctly and "we always

do things proper where I work", and then someone else gets

on trying to correlate the right to spell terribly with the

constitution. And you never know how people will take

things, either they're offended when they shouldn't be, or

they take insults as just good conversation. And if you try

to keep personalities out of what you post, some half wit

from a fabled crappy state on the eastern sea-board comes

along and starts getting personal with the insults, not

realizing what he is really getting into. And then some

emaciated loony starts posting 150 line complaints about

people posting 150 line articles, which they don't have to

read anyway, but feel obliged to comment on simply because

their minute egos need the boost of ragging on someone

they've never met. And then some deranged cat-molester

starts some boring discussion about the role of

contraception in the development of the ball point pen,

which goes on, and on, and you find that before long your

'n' key has lost the printing on it from over use. And then

people start sending endless messages about stopping the

endless messages of the ongoing debate. And then your brain

bursts from frustration and even if you try to contribute

something worthwhile to the Net, someone's always getting

his rear out of joint about something . . .

Xaphod: Will you shut the @#$% up!

Martin: Sure, why not, you weren't really interested anyway.

Rod: You're bloody right about that.

(All of a sudden, the hall they are travelling darkens. Twenty-two

Flamers beam into view. They are noticably ticked off.)

Commander: Look you, we told you to take your mindless drivel off the

Net.

Number 1: Yah!

Number 2: Yah!

Rod: Yah! . . . yah, yah, yah.

Xaphod: Since when.

Commander: Well, it was in a different time, we boarded your vessel,

acted like the mindless, malodorous, sodomistic necrophiles

that we are, did a lot of shouting, and told you to forever

leave the Net.

Xaphod: Oh yeah, you must be the Flamers from Kekraphoon, you're the

ones with the delusions of representing the consciousness of

the Net.

Rod: What a pack of twits, don't you know that the HHGttN has

received almost overwhelming support from all over Netland?

Number 1: We'll have to blast you.

Xaphod: You had your chance torch-head. You should have spoken up

when we started. But now we have a loyal following.

Number 2: But you are taking up valuable space.

Rod: You must be kidding, with the vast quantities of stuff that

are considerably longer than HHGttN that go out on the Net,

and ignored totally, you have the narrow mindedness to use

such a worn out argument.

Commander: What do you expect!

Gillian: Haven't you noticed people asking for missed episodes?

Number 1: Well . . . we choose to ignore that.

Commander: Now hold it, we want you OFF. You're upsetting the balance.

Time was when we Flamers had the run of the Net. Those were

the good old days, pouncing on innocent people posting

messages for no reason at all. People cowering in their

offices, wondering if we would cut them to ribbons for

spelling errors. Now you've ruined it. We just can't deal

with . . . satire (Dinsdale?). Our weak attempts to

counterattack fade quickly. No, you've got to GO, so we can

retain our purity of essence and have no contamination of

our precious bodily fluids.

Xaphod: PUSH OFF you stiff! You aren't the bloody consciousness of

the Net, you aren't even conscious. If you don't like the

stuff, nobody is forcing you to read it. What are you, one

of those Moral Majority types. Yah, that's it, you don't

like what people say, so you try to make sure that nobody

hears it. That's censorship, mate. Just because you don't

appreciate or understand something, doesn't make everyone

who does wrong.

Commander: Uh, uh . . .

Rod: Why don't we start throwing insults at the guy who sent the

Flamers. We could kick around his childhood and stuff like

that.

Xaphod: No, let's not go down to that level.

Gillian: Yah, lets keep our values.

[The editors of "The Hitch Hikers Guide To The Net" point out that every

attempt is made NOT to name names or point fingers. The HHGttN is a

compendium of commentary intended to help understand what goes on in

Netland, a place often billed as a "wheatfield of mental disorders". The

editors also point out that all episodes are intended purely in the

spirit of comedic-satire. Any insults to any individual's religion,

political views, or anything like that is either purely accidental, or

definitely intentional. The HHGttN complaints department is open at all

hours, but has so far only received one (well intended) complaint, which

was kindly accepted and acknowledged to the sender. The editors remind

all Netlanders that there is no evil spell forcing them to read HHGttN

(even though it makes perfectly good sense to do so)!!! ]

(In a fit of frustration, the Flamers depart, muttering something about

"We shall return".)

Arnold Lint:Well, that was exciting.

Xaphod: Now let's get going and find the answer.

Rod: Yah, and the dirty books.

Gillian: (Looking at a huge mural on what could be considered the

wall) Look over there, it looks like a whole new Net!

Martin: Oh no, not another.

******************** End Of Part 8 ********************

Will the crew of the Infinity ever find the answer, or will they get

interrupted again, to find out . . . Tune in next time . . . same

Net-time . . . same Net-channel.

danielle

==========================================================================

== ==

== If you enjoy these please feel free to contact me and say hello. I ==

== can be reached at Sun via the Arpanet or the USENET. My email addr- ==

== esses are: ==

== ==

== {ucbvax, decwrl, allegro}!sun!dbercel!toto ==

== ==

== or ==

== ==

== dbercel@sun.com or dbercel@sun.arpa ==

==========================================================================

Hitch Hikers Guide To The Net

Episode 9

.-----------.

! _ _ !

.-! /* *\ !-.

\! O !/

! !

! .-----. !

! ' ` !

`-----------'

!! !!

Martin

(The crew of the Infinity is continuing on their way to find the

explanation to Life, the Net, and Everything. It is a unbelievably long

trip. It is also notably nasty as Martin insists on droning on and on

about what a waste of time it all is and how it will probably be quite

depressing once the destination is reached and so on. Off in the

distance, they hear pounding type noises. The sounds appear to be

getting closer.)

Gillian: What do you think it is?

Arnold Lint:I don't know.

Xaphod: Maybe it's some new and amazingly interesting people.

Martin: I hope not.

Rod: It's definitely getting closer, let's duck out of sight just

to be safe.

(Rod and company duck behind a nearby paperweight. The pounding sounds

can now be identified as the sounds of people running. Mixed in is a

metallic clinking sound and various shouts and yells. As the sound gets

closer, Arnold discerns that there is also a splatting type of sound

mixed in.)

Arnold Lint:What is that?

Xaphod: Could be a Rigelian Megapede.

Rod: Or a Richard Simmons show.

(The source of the sound now comes into view. The first thing seen is a

group of seven joggers, of various ages, sexes, and creeds, running for

all they are worth. Close on their heels are two blokes in a Land Rover,

they each wield a large club and a large can of beer. They are, in fact,

none other than Australian Joggering champions Bruce Karnage and Bruce

Bludletter.)

Bruce: Here Bruce, get closer and I'll get another.

Bruce: Right Bruce.

Bruce: Naw, closer, Bruce.

Bruce: Pass me a beer, Bruce.

Bruce: Right Bruce.

(The Land Rover approaches the slowest jogger and Bruce pockets him in

the corner with a polo-like shot to the head, causing little bits of

brain to spurt out his ears.)

Bruce: That was lovely, Bruce!

Bruce: Thank you, Bruce.

(The joggers and the joggerers depart, the racket follows them, as well

it should.)

Rod: That was great, what a shot.

Arnold Lint:That was awful, how vicious and cruel.

Martin: I don't know, I almost enjoyed it.

Gillian: What do they call that.

Xaphod: That's joggering, lovely sport.

Rod: Let's go already.

Arnold Lint:What a savage Net we live in.

[**********************************************************************

"The Hitch Hikers Guide To The Net" indicates that one of the most

savage races in the known Net are the Incindarans. These types make the

normal Flamers look like choir boys. These types liked to censor shows

like "8 is Enough" due to it's immoral plot lines. They even went so far

as to publish 'G' rated versions of the Old, New, and Video Testaments

(blessed be the Holy Box). Legend has it that their system was kept off

the Net for a long period of time. Their system lords felt that this

would be best in light of the tendencies of those in the system. Things

got so bad in Incindara that the system lords decided they better find

someone else to fight before they wiped themselves out. So the

Incindaran system was let onto the Net. They were so busy fighting

amongst each other that nobody noticed the portal to the Net. An errant

message found its way to Incindara which made them all realize that they

were not alone. They selected their most learned scholar, Clyd Noeitall,

to investigate the wondrous Net. It was the first time Incindara had

taken enough time out from fighting to do anything. It was indeed a

great day. He and his colleagues than set out and talked with the Net

for the first time. Unfortunately, they came in right in the middle of

the debates over Big Mac's. Upon seeing this, Clyd turned to his

colleague and said: "No, it's all got to go". Following this they began

to systematically torch almost every place in the Net. A long war

followed in which the Incindarans lost badly. The Net, being a bit

ticked off, decided on a punishment that suited the crime. They took

away all the 'n' keys on every terminal in Incindara. Unfortunately,

they forgot to make Incindara a read-only location, allowing the

Incindarans to verbally flame. The few Incindarans who survived can

still be found flaming at will about everything they read (which is

everything as there are no 'n' keys). The once proud and feared

Incindarans have been reduced to ranting about Burger King, drunk

drivers, sterilizing non-supporters of ERA, and so on. "The Hitch

Hikers Guide To The Net" warns all Net travellers that when such types

are encountered, the best course of action is to abort the debate, as it

is probably pointless anyway.

***********************************************************************]

******************** End Of Part 9 ********************

What is the explanation of Life, the Net, and Everything? How did Bruce

do? Did Bruce get his beer. Is Brooke Shields an Alien? To find out . .

. Tune in next time . . . same Net-time . . . same Net-channel.

danielle

==========================================================================

== ==

== If you enjoy these please feel free to contact me and say hello. I ==

== can be reached at Sun via the Arpanet or the USENET. My email addr- ==

== esses are: ==

== ==

== {ucbvax, decwrl, allegro}!sun!dbercel!toto ==

== ==

== or ==

== ==

== dbercel@sun.com or dbercel@sun.arpa ==

==========================================================================

Hitch Hikers Guide To The Net

Episode 10

(Xaphod, Rod, Gillian, and Marvin are still on their way to find out

more about Life, the Net, and Everything. From off in the distance they

hear a hollow roar punctuated by gunfire. Before they have a chance to

grasp the situation, a huge battle tank screeches to a halt in front of

them. It is a fearsome device with great nasty teeth painted on it. The

cannon looks as if it could punch a hole through a small planet. A hatch

opens and a rightly uniformed man steps out, crushing a passing cat

under his boot.)

Cat: (splat)

Rod: Wh . . . who are you?

Roarin' George:I'm General Roarin' George Pahton. I heard there was some

Singularans around here. Thought I'd do some American

style joggering.

Xaphod: Oh yeah, they went that a way.

Arnold Lint: Why does everyone pick on the Singularans? They only seek

meaningful personal relationships with people they find

special.

Roarin' George:Right, that's it, we're gonna have some order around

here. No more of these damn cliches. From here on out,

the following rules will apply: Anyone who uses the

phrases 'special', 'personal relationship', or

'meaningful relationship' WILL be fined twenty dollars

for the first offense. Subsequent offenders will have

their genitalia removed with a sharp rock. Anyone who

corrects the spelling of another, WILL be fined 100

dollars. I won't stand for any namby-pamby intellectuals

checking spelling when there's so much to do. Anyone

caught agreeing with anything an oppositely gendered

personnel says in an obvious attempt to make points, WILL

have both kneecaps shattered with a ball-pean hammer.

Likewise, anyone saying things which are right out of

soap operas with the intentions mentioned above WILL also

have his (or her) kneecaps shattered with a ball-pean

hammer. Remember, this is the NET, it's tough out there.

Keep your emotions to yourself, do you want a bunch of

commies to read that gooey crap? Why they'll think we're

wimps, then they'll invade. They've started infiltrating

already - ever been to one of the dating service places?

They're all commies, draining away our precious bodily

fluids. Now, get back to work!

(With that, he climbs back into the tank and drives off, casually

blowing a 4 foot hole in a nearby wall. Just then, the 12" CRT on

Xaphod's shoulder springs to life. On it is a man in a white suit with a

bible in one hand and a microphone in the other. He speaks: "Friends.

Why are we here today? We are here to hear the words - (Amen) - to hear

the holy words from the Holy Box - (Amen). Oh blessed be the Holy Box,

and it's disciples: Prophet Ronko, Prophet K-Dul, and the Prophet Popeel

- (Amen Amen Amen). Yes, they lead is to immaculate spending. We here at

the Church of the Divine Vision believe in Johnny and Merv and Mike. TV

is the reflection of life, and life is a reflection of reality,

therefore TV IS REALITY. Yes, Mrs Olson may be a Nazi, but if you buy

Foljers, you can bake just like her. And Robert Yung may have multiple

personalities and a penchant for farm animals, but if you drink his

coffee, you can remain calm in the midst of a nuclear explosion . . . ")

Rod: Shut that OFF.

Xaphod: Bloody religious fanatics.

Arnold Lint: What an odd religion, worshiping a TV, seems hard to

believe.

Martin: Not really, just another awful attempt to deal with this

miserable Net. It's all a cop out. You can't understand

something so you pretend that there is something else in

control. It's all rubbish.

Gillian: Quiet. Of course there's a supreme being.

Martin: If you say so, but if God didn't already exist, he would

have to be invented.

Rod: It's hopeless talking to him.

("The Hitch Hikers Guide To The Net" indicates that the members of the

Church of the Divine Vision are basically agnostics. They prefer to

believe what they see on the tube to what some half starved people wrote

about over 2000 years ago. They can't meet God, but if the TV gives them

trouble, they can always replace it. Their belief led to the writing of

the Video Testament, which is the gospel for all believers in the Holy

Box. Although it seems unlikely, the Church of the Divine Vision was

supposed to have formed some amazing concepts as to how the Net exists.)

Gillian: Let's go.

Martin: Do we have to?

(They all ignore Martin and press on. Two days later they arrive at

their destination. In front of them is a rather bug-eyed looking

lizard.)

Xaphod: Hey man, are you the one with the dope on Life, the Net,

and Everything.

Lizard: Yes, I am Teddy the Wonder Lizard. I know all there is to

know about Life, the Net, and Everything.

Rod: Well, tell us!

Gillian: Please do!

Teddy: You won't like it.

Martin: (sarcastically) Now that's a real surprise.

Teddy: Are you sure you want to know?

Arnold Lint: Yes, what is it, got to more than forty-bloody-two.

Teddy: Yes, that was the answer we told the Net. We figured that

the real answer was so awful, they'd rather get something

vague and argue about it forever.

Xaphod: Well, out with it.

Teddy: It's all here, in the Video Testament!

(He hands Xaphod an old looking book, pops about a dozen valiums, and

then switches on a nearby TV set. He is watching 'Real People'.)

Xaphod: Well, that should finish him off.

Arnold Lint: The drugs?

Rod: No, 'Real People', lowers the IQ so much that the brain

just packs it in and you die.

Gillian: Find the answer already!

Xaphod: Okay, now lets see . . .

******************** End Of Part 10 ********************

What is the answer to Life, the Net, and Everything? Why are we here?

Are we here? And why is it that vampires never attack Jewish

neighborhoods? For the answers to some of these questions . . . Tune in

next time . . . same Net-time . . . same Net-channel.

danielle

==========================================================================

== ==

== If you enjoy these please feel free to contact me and say hello. I ==

== can be reached at Sun via the Arpanet or the USENET. My email addr- ==

== esses are: ==

== ==

== {ucbvax, decwrl, allegro}!sun!dbercel!toto ==

== ==

== or ==

== ==

== dbercel@sun.com or dbercel@sun.arpa ==

==========================================================================

Hitch Hikers Guide To The Net

Episode 11 - Life, The Net, and Everything Part 1

(Xaphod, Rod, Gillian, and Arnold Lint have just received the 'Video

Testament' - a scripture said to contain the answer to Life, the Net,

and Everything.)

Rod: Well, go on, read it.

Arnold Lint:Do you think we should?

Xaphod: Yah, why not.

Martin: I can think of a few reasons.

Gillian: Quiet, we're going to find out what it all means. Aren't you

the least bit excited.

Martin: (droning sarcastically) Oh yes, I can hardly contain myself.

Xaphod: Never mind him, lets read this amazingly amazing book.

(They open the book and it speaks to them.)

Book: Hark, who goest there.

Rod: Uh, who are you?

Book: I . . . am the Video Testament. The compendium of all

knowledge and smart stuff from the mythical age of Kubla

Konthemasus. You may call me . . . Ralph.

"The Hitch Hikers Guide To The Net" has this to say about the mythical

ruler Kubla Konthemasus: He was reported to be from Austria or Germany.

He was supposed to be short and have a funny little mustache. He was

supposed to have died in 1945 and then be reborn in Argentina. His

followers looked upon him as a sort of Messiah, who would lead them to

the land of Silk and Money. All of this is, of course, purely

hypothetical; as were Konthemasus' friends Herman (Hermie) McGoering,

and Crazy Joe Stalinson.

Xaphod: Ralph?

Ralph: Well, what do you expect?

Rod: Well, not Ralph.

Gillian: Can you tell us . . .

Ralph: The answer to Life, the Net, and Everything.

Gillian: . . . why yes.

Arnold Lint:That's amazing.

Xaphod: To you it would be.

Rod: Tell us what it all means.

Ralph: You won't like it.

Martin: That's no surprise.

Xaphod: Just ignore him.

Ralph: Well, it all began sometime in the 1950's. A group of very

wealthy and powerful men assembled in Argentina under the

guidance of a man calling himself Kubla Konthemasus. This

group of magnates were from various political affiliations -

Nazis, Communists, Capitalists, and Urologists. They all

liked money and wanted to rule the world. They also

realized that TV was going to be the tool that would give

them the leverage they needed.

Xaphod: I don't like the way this is starting to sound.

Rod: Me neither.

Ralph: I warned you.

Martin: You should have listened to him.

Arnold Lint:Go on.

Ralph: Well, they began to infiltrate the TV industry. Soon they

not only owned huge percentages of each network, but had

also emplaced their own people into many of the creative

positions at each network. Then they began to manipulate

things. They decided to cast the world in an image that they

could easily control. So each little kid on TV was either

predictably (and sickeningly) nice and helpful, or

predictably always getting into trouble. Women were either

predictably aggressive or predictably obtuse. You see, they

set up patterns of behavior that they could count on. Once

they could predict and control how the public would react

to something, they could do whatever they wanted. Whenever

they wanted to do something really tricky (like when they

took over the Mid-East oil fields in the late 70's and early

80's) they made sure to get the country thinking their way

before hand with a massive TV bombardment. If it was a topic

that they knew nobody would go for no matter how they

publicized it, they flooded the airways with those sickening

human emotion type TV-movies. Things like "Plight of the

Forgotten Children" or "Why is Daddy always angry?". The

kind of stuff that makes you want to blow lunch.

Rod: Wow, that's amazing.

Xaphod: Yah.

Ralph: Their greatest triumph was getting a president elected.

Their plan was simple. They made sure that the east coast

was for their candidate, leaving the west coast alone. Then,

on election day, the TV 'predictions' claimed their

candidate to be a sure winner. Due to the time difference,

all the people on the west coast thought the election was

over anyway and didn't even bother to vote.

Xaphod: Wow, imagine getting a president elected by manipulating the

media.

Ralph: And guess what . . . he was an actor!

Gillian: What a coincidence.

Rod: Yah, imagine that.

Martin: Doesn't surprise me . . . I expect such things from humans.

Arnold Lint:But what does all this have to do with the Net?

Gillian: Yah, controlling TV is great but most people in the Net are

far too dedicated to their work to partake of anything as

tacky as TV. We're all thoroughly dedicated professionals.

(If it were possible for an android to suppress a burst of

uncontrollable laughter, that is what Martin could now be described as

doing.)

Rod: Yah what about the Net!?

Ralph: Well . . .

******************** End Of Part 11 ********************

What are the interests of this Neo-Nazi-Communist-Capitalist

organization in the Net? The answer will surprise you - unless you're a

great stupid twit. To find out more . . . Tune in next time . . . same

Net-time . . . same Net-channel.

danielle

==========================================================================

== ==

== If you enjoy these please feel free to contact me and say hello. I ==

== can be reached at Sun via the Arpanet or the USENET. My email addr- ==

== esses are: ==

== ==

== {ucbvax, decwrl, allegro}!sun!dbercel!toto ==

== ==

== or ==

== ==

== dbercel@sun.com or dbercel@sun.arpa ==

==========================================================================

Hitch Hikers Guide To The Net

Episode 12 - Life, The Net, and Everything Part 2

(Ralph, the 'Video Testament' is just about to explain Life, the Net,

and Everything to the crew of the Infinity)

Gillian: Tell us, what does all this neo-Nazi stuff have to do with

the Net.

Arnold Lint:I don't think I want to know.

Martin: Me neither.

Rod: Quiet.

Xaphod: Go on . . .

Ralph: Anyway, Kubla Konthemasus' followers were doing great.

Anything they showed on TV was immediately accepted as

truth. Disco became an overnight sensation, and then was

phased out when the profit wasn't great enough. It was soon

realized that there was a significant group of people in

computer related fields who possessed considerable wealth.

It was also realized that these people were not being taken

in by the video blitz.

Arnold Lint:Good for us!

Martin: Not really, I'm afraid.

Ralph: Very perceptive, robot. Konthemasus' research showed that

hackers do not believe what they see or hear, unless it

comes across a computer terminal. It was fast becoming

apparent that computers would be vital to the power of the

new regime, so it was vital that anyone who worked with

computers could be controlled.

Gillian: Yes, but what does that have to do with the Net? The Net is

an exchange of ideas and ideals between computer

professionals!

(Martin starts coughing sarcastically)

Ralph: Kubla Konthemasus, in a brilliant stroke, figured out a way

to not only carry out an experiment in behavioral psychology

on the computing professionals, but also to put into action

all his findings. He created the Net. You see, there are a

few key links in the Net controlled by his men. At first

they tried a variety of topics and tested reactions. Then

they started trying to bend the opinion of Net-landers.

First by trying to get everyone to like current trends in

music, then by trying to create the impression that North

Dakota does not exist. Anyone who rejected the ideas they

tried to push, and was fool enough to say so, was put onto a

list. This list will be used to purge the society of all

those who would corrupt the purity of essence of

Konthemasus' new order of conformity and religious

fulfillment.

Xaphod: Wow, that's unbelievable.

Rod: Yah, I don't think I do believe it.

Arnold Lint:Me neither . . . An actor in the white house? . . . No

North Dakota? . . . Couldn't happen!

Gillian: I don't know, maybe . . .

Ralph: Well, that's about it. I've got to go, lots to do.

Rod: What could a book have to do?

Ralph: About an ounce of cocaine!

(With that, Ralph vanishes into thin air. The crew of the Infinity is

left standing, dumb founded by what they have heard. They start to leave

and come to the door. There is a moment of hesitation.)

Gillian: If anyone of you open the door for me, I'll put the boot in.

Arnold Lint:What's with her.

Rod: She's an ERA.

Arnold Lint:A what?

Xaphod: ERA - An Extra Rights Activist.

According to "The Hitch Hikers Guide To The Net", the Extra Rights

Activists group was started by a group of women who were quite upset by

their station in life. They didn't just want equality, they wanted

superiority. They figured they could get all the privileges of equality

with men, and yet retain all the conveniences regarded them as women.

They wanted equal pay for less work, lower taxes for women, shorter work

hours. After all, the fairer sex shouldn't have to work so hard, but

they do deserve the same pay. They didn't want to join the army though.

They felt that in some cases, where it was convenient, men could still

have it all. The one thing you could do to make an ERA mad was to hold

the door for her. They took it as a sign of harassment . . . no one

knows why. Other acts of courtesy were also mistaken as antagonizing the

ERA movement. Helping an ERA with her coat was the same as telling her

she smelled like bathroom at the National Food Poisoners Convention.

Helping an ERA with her chair in a restaurant was tantamount to clubbing

her about the head with a moldy Albatros. In response to this threat to

male dominated society, the all-male anti-ERA faction MCP (Male

Counter-ERA Pact) circulated a pamphlet explaining what a man could do

if the woman he was with gave any indications of trying to open the door

before he could open it for her. It read as follows:

=====================================================================

** How not to hold the door for an ERA **

If the woman you are with starts to race for the door so she can open it

for herself, and this upsets you, here are a few things you can do to

make sure it won't happen again.

Just as she gets up to speed, trip her from behind.

When she has a large enough lead, and has the door open, stop to

tie your shoe.

If there is a convenient doorway (like a men's room) nearby, wait

until she isn't looking and duck in as she opens the door.

If she is holding the door, take hold of it as you enter the

doorway and close it behind. Locking it is a sure-fire clue to her

that you are displeased.

If there is a long corridor before the offending door, and she

starts to speed up, keep pace with her. When you both hit a dead

run, body check her into the wall. A well timed 'Ooops' will make

it all look innocent. This is dangerous if you are with a lady

roller derby player.

If you really don't care about offending her, give her a quick feel

just as she turns away from you to head for the door. Of course,

she may never turn her back on you again.

Remember, there is nothing wrong with being courteous. But if she won't

take it gracefully, make it bloody inconvenient for her to keep doing

so.

=====================================================================

The ERA movement, surprisingly, took no action against the MCP. Rumor

has it that they settled the debate in some non-violent manner. History

notes that there followed a sudden increase in the sale of plastic drop

clothes and corn oil followed by a sudden increase in births about 9

months later.

******************** End Of Part 12 ********************

Will Arnold Lint hold the door for Gillian? Or will he become a soprano?

To find out . . . Tune in next time . . . same Net-time . . . same

Net-channel.

danielle