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Conference hydra::amiga_v1

Title:AMIGA NOTES
Notice:Join us in the *NEW* conference - HYDRA::AMIGA_V2
Moderator:HYDRA::MOORE
Created:Sat Apr 26 1986
Last Modified:Wed Feb 05 1992
Last Successful Update:Fri Jun 06 1997
Number of topics:5378
Total number of notes:38326

1113.0. "Try, and try again" by STARCH::WHERRY (Servant of Cthulhu) Thu Jan 28 1988 16:49

    Well, I thought why don't I try adding this one more time...
    third time is the charm they say.  This story, which comes
    to us via usenet/bitnet/enet is rather funny and satirical.
    
    enjoy (I hope)
    
    brad
    
    
From:	WPI::"RCST12@HEITHE5" "WPI Daemon" 27-JAN-1988 16:41
To:	brad wherry <wpi::BWHERRY>
Subj:	     Something to make people giggle.....

/*
 *  I got this from usenet.... hope you'll all like it....
 *
 *  (especially those who have had some experience with the %%$##@$^% virus)
 *
 *   Martien Kuunders, RCST12@HEITHE5
 */
 
 
Posting-Version: unknown; site unknown
Path: maine!cunyvm!psuvm.bitnet!psuvax1!gatech!hao!ames!mike
From: mike@ames.arpa (Mike Smithwick)
Newsgroups: comp.sys.amiga
Subject: Re: Holy Parody Batman, not another AmigaTrek?
Message-ID: <3887@ames.arpa>
Date: 10 Jan 88 04:39:05 GMT
Organization: NASA Ames Research Center, Moffett Field, Calif.
Reply-To: mike@ames.arc.nasa.gov.UUCP (Mike Smithwick)
Lines: 414
Keywords: EnterBoing
Summary: [kinda long, unless you're a speed reader]
 
 
 
 
 
[And now, for the lighter side of the Virus issue. . .]
 
 
Uh, hey Martha, he's at it again. You know, that Smithwick fella,
just doesn't know when to stop. . .
 
:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
 
The reviews are in! "Amiga-The Next Generation" is a boffo hit!!
 
   "I laughed all the way to bed last night!" - WF
 
   ". . .destined to be a classic. . ." - GL
 
   ":-) :-) :-) :-) :-) :-) :-) :-) :-) :-) :-) " - RA
 
   "Brilliant. . ., bravo" - DB
 
   "I really don't know what 'EnterBoing' is, perhaps Jimmy
    might"- T.F.Bakker
 
   "Hey, my voice isn't that high" - LS
 
With that out of the way, I humbly submit for your approval,
 
   [mentally change to Bold Face type]
 
>>>>>>>>     AMIGA - The Next Generation, 2.0    <<<<<<
 
          --    the Virus Strikes Back   --
 
#define PARODY_BIT    ON
 
Captain Dale : (stern, square jawed, no frills, stands gazing
     distantly out through his office window, hands clasped
     behind him. . .)) Captain's log, 32-28-32.8, the StarChip
     Enterboing was on it's way to a rendezvous point in the
     Denise star system. We were scheduled to meet the StarChip
     RSN Shakespeare. This is the fourth time we've tried to meet
     Shakespeare, but so far, they have yet to show up.
 
     (we hear a short burst of musical notes over the intercom,
     sounding much like an atonal passage from Wagner's "Ring")
 
Ensign Jim : Captain, we're getting a number of distress calls
     about an outbreak of some "virus" or something. . .
 
Captain : I'll be right up.
 
     (Two stagehands open the elevator door, and a determined
     captain stumbles into the bridge taking his seat.)
 
Science officer Kodiak : Sir, we're getting word that this virus
     has infected and has either destroyed or seriously messed up
     numerous disks out in the User Community.
 
Captain : Damn, were's my Bartles-and-Jaymes when I need it.
 
Jim : Alotta compliants are coming from Netland sir, virus talk is
     clogging systems around the known universe.
 
Lieutenant Dave : A transmission sir, coming from the StarChip
     Public Domain.
 
Announcer : A fuzzy, broken picture appears on the screen, we see
     the sullen face of the much repected and beloved Captain Fish, his
     eyes are distant and glassy. Piles of disks lie scattered around
     him. The picture breaks up as it fades in and out. Captain
     Fish seems distraught, perhaps delirious. He looks up into
     the camera, shakes two handfuls of floppies towards it.
 
Fish : [the image breaks up, scratch, garble] Disks! all my
     [garble, snap] destroyed! [crackle, pop] murder the
     [expletetive deleted, garbled] Fear, trembling among. . .
     [snap, bleep] "your Amiga has a virus, HA ! HA ! HA ! your. . "
     [fade, pop, scratch] HA ! HA ! [garble] . . . get me an ST.
 
Captain : The man's obviously suffering from delirium
 
Fish : [crackle, snap] . . . black leather and chains. . . [fade,
     flicker] . . . PeeWee Herman and . . .[pop, grech] . . .vote
     for Gary Hart. . .
 
     (Enterboing looses the signal)
 
Captain : Now we know he needs our help. . .
 
Dave : This stuff sounds worse than EAs copy protection, wheeeew!
 
Announcer : Being true to his 32 colors, Captain Dale blits the
     EnterBoing around, and goes into hi-res mode.
 
Captain : Ensign, set course for the BAADG Star System. If anyone
     can figure this stuff out, they can. We must make this a
     universe of Safe Sectors.
 
Announcer : Jim grabs his mouse and selects the new "preferences"
     of Workbench 7.2. Hitting a couple of wrong buttons on his 27
     button mouse, a strange message appears in the menu bar saying
     "mono-tasking sucks eggs!"
 
Kodiak : Sir, more messages about the virus, coming in.
     Apparently there are several different varieties from  "harmless"
     ones on up to deliberately malicious ones which can cause serious
     destruction in this and neighboring dimensions.
 
Captain : And I thought that the Amiga race had evolved beyond
     this sort of thing. What sort of slimeball would do this!
 
Announcer : The EnterBoing sailed on towards the unknown, while
     all around the Amiga Universe users cowered in terror, wondering
     if their copy of that great new screen-hack "OingBoingWoingZoing"
     will be >>>The One<<<.
 
     At last, EnterBoing reaches the borders of the Infected Zone, and
     goes into orbit around the small puce-colored planet Foo. The
     crew beams down to a hideous sight. Smoke pours fourth from
     special effects generators, turning the sun blood-red. Burned out
     buildings line the streets, while people wander aimlessly
     clutching stacks of their beloved disks just cleaned of
     all those nasty byte thingies. Everywhere people mumble things
     like "click click click" or "formatting, verifying, formatting".
     The crew stepped over piles of rubble (joyboards, c64 emulators,
     Andy Warhol issues of Amiga World, little red unicycles) in the
     street. Bonfires burned openly. Babies cried as their mothers
     comforted them softly humming songs from "It's only Rock and Roll".
 
     A seven year old comes up to Kodiak, tears streaming down his
     round little cheeks. . .
 
kid : Please mister (he pleads in a calculatedly pitiful tone)
    you got a good copy of Marble madness? Puleeeezzze??? I haven't
    found the "secret level" yet. . .
 
Announcer : The crew was touched and angered by the expressions
    of pure hopelessness. The sight of that young boy, XORed into
    their collective cortexes.
 
    Late that nite, the captain was in his study lost in thought. . .
 
Captain : Hmmm, now leseee-----I guess we'll "enter the city".
    Gee, after 4 years of this and with 533,979 hit-points you'd
    think that I'd find Mangar by now.
 
Announcer : Leaning back in his chair, he props his feet up on
    the table, ready for a relaxing evening, when suddenly-----
 
    (cymbal_crash=ON) on his screen appears : "HA HA HA! a virus is
    in your Amiga! Formatting disk. . ."
 
    The captain's face bleaches white, then turns red as
    the purest form of anger grips him. The only noise in the room is
    "click click click-Formatting cylinder 12, Verifying cylinder 12,
    Formatting cylinder 13. . .".
 
    From deep inside the captains throat comes a sound quite unlike
    anything we've ever heard before. Louder than the mating call of
    the Altarian Megadonkey, louder than Steve Jobs being fired, even
    louder then a thousand ST owners saying why they don't "need"
    multi-tasking.
 
    "formatting cylinder 45, click, click, click (heh heh heh). . ."
 
    Kodiak looks up from the book he's reading ("Vanna Speaks"). . .
 
Kodiak : What the hell was that?
 
Jim : It sounded like the voice of someone who just reformatted
    their Bard's Tale character disk.
 
Dave : How do you know that?
 
Jim : Just look at page 10 of the script, dummy.
 
Announcer : The captain bursts into the crew quarters, kicks
    aside the piles of dirty laundry, Amiga World subscription
    notices, unused software registration forms, growling. . .
 
Captain : Let's get these Dogs! NOW!
 
Announcer : The crew roll out of their cots, and rush up to the
    bridge. Kodiak immediately sets to access the EnterBoing's
    database for a search of possible culprits.
 
Kodiak : Dammit! Where's the dongle!
 
Jim : What?
 
Kodiak : That thing you're playing with.
 
Jim : Oh, heh, sorry. Thought it was a mouseport protector.
 
Announcer : Plugging in the dongle, Kodiak checks references from
    vandalism to satanic worship, from Democratic presidential
    candidates to leprosy to BCPL. Anything that might offer a lead.
 
Kodiak : Wait, wait a minute here. Under the heading of "Mutant
    hackers from the East" it sez that "the great SlimeLord Gronk, is
    a smug and flatulent fellow, proud of his own cleverness. In
    order to demonstrate just how clever he really is, Gronk likes to
    play 'pranks' on computer users across the galaxy. By having his
    servants, a form of 'mental eunuchs' create software 'viruses'.
    These have little more utility than to create terror, discord and
    all around nastiness in the user community by systematically
    trashing disk after disk. 'Can't a guy have a little fun, huh?'
    Gronk remarked once after one of his viruses was mistaken for a
    simple-minded operating system. Later called 'MS-DOS', it almost
    single-handedly set back the cause of personnel computing by 1200
    years. Another one of his efforts unleashed upon the early Amiga
    users caused otherwise perfectly healthy disk drives to
    constantly repeat his name when running : 'gronk, gronk, gronk'.
 
Yeoman Leo : Let's Iconify this dude!
 
Announcer : The EnterBoing gracefully swings around and sweeps
    off into the great unknown to meet their greatest enemy yet.
 
    After the commercial for some "feminine hygiene" gunk, nose
    drops, and "Chocolate Covered Sugar Bombs" Fortified Breakfast
    Cereal-Breakfast of Geeks, StarChip EnterBoing settles around
    a dark and foreboding planet.
 
Dave : I can feel the evil, the. . ., the. . .
 
Jim : Malevolence
 
Dave : Thanks. Malevolence, the . . .
 
Jim : Churlishness.
 
Dave : Yeah! Churlishness. The mental. . .
 
Jim : Putrescence?
 
Dave : no
 
Jim : Pournellelishness?
 
Dave : That's it!
 
Announcer : On their viewer, the planet loomed mightily before them.
 
Kodiak : Like wow man, look at that planet looming mightily before us.
 
Announcer : Looking much like an avocado with a bad case of acne.
 
Kodiak : Yeah, or an orange with hemorrhoids.
 
Jim : Captain, were getting a transmission from the SlimeLord
 
Announcer : On the screen appears the most hideous creature ever
    seen or imagined. Looking much like an avocado with acne, or
    Jerry Pournelle after a nights worth of partying. Gronk's skin,
    if it could be called that, hangs loose on his twisted frame.
    Open black sores ooze something to gross to even mention to this
    bunch.
 
    His head resembling a shriveled Mickey-Mouse balloon, is
    indicative of his overall intelligence. On the wall behind Gronk
    are the 3 most virulent letter in the Amiga universe (second only
    to that "I" term) : "SCA", the Software Cancer Association
    (actually it's the Software Crackers Association, an organized
    group of cretins in Europe who crack and pirate software, and
    apparently spread Trojan-Horses).
 
Gronk : Alien StarChip, Youse Guys want some software, yes? Real
    cheap, I gotz me Fairy Tale, WordPerfect, TextCraft. I'ya got it
    all.
 
Captain : Not on your life Gronk, you ugly dude, you. We don't
    want any of your swill.
 
Jim : But sir, he's got TextCraft. Can't we make an exception?
 
Captain : What? And break the "Prime Directive"?
 
Jim : But siiiiiir, it's TextCraft!
 
Gronk : Well, captain, wanna deal?
 
Captain : Yeah, were going to deal with you alright.
 
Announcer : The crew donn special isolation garments: black shiny
    jackets bearing the EnterBoing's emblem on the back.
    They shimmer away in a blazing explosion of special effects. and
    reappear in a bunch of twisty little mazes looking all alike.
    Stuff crawls down the walls, their feet stick to the floor as if
    they were in a cheap theater.
 
    Through a port, they catch the sight of a small band of SCA
    mutants busily working away dreaming up new viruses, or cracking
    Jet, Arkanoid and Faccccc. Above them hangs the sign "Why buy
    software, when you can steal it!". The crew slinks up to the
    doorway, Pirate-Blasters drawn.
 
Cracker : Ha Ha! Hey Lou, check out this new virus. After 4
    boots, it writes a Micro-Prose copy protection scheme to their
    harddisk.
 
Captain : (whispers) Those vipers! Ok, Set blasters to "Warranty
    Violation". GO!
 
Announcer : They dive into the room. Crackers turn around, terror
    showing in their beady eyes and flaccid faces. Squealing like
    baby pigs they scatter in every direction. Sweeping the room with
    their pirate-blasters, the crew hits everything with a monitor
    systematically violating all possible warranties. Paula chips
    writhe in agony, gasping for bits but finding none. CRTs split
    open, spilling their load of pixels onto the floor like so much
    sand.
 
    Thrilling, action-packed editing makes this a scene much too
    intense for words.
 
    And as quickly as it began, it was over. The crackers huddled
    silently under the counters. Liquified computers litter the
    room.
 
Kodiak : Gee, that was fun, letz do this again sometime.
 
Announcer : Dale grasps an especially homely cracker by his soft
    pliable throat. Holding him up he stares into his little
    twitching face. . .
 
Kodiak : Thatta-boy Captain, you hold-him and I'll modify him.
 
Captain : Where is Gronk?
 
Cracker : At the end of the hall, through the sliding doors that
    stagehands must open to make look automatic.
 
Announcer : The crew makes their way down the hall, stopping now
    and then to shake stuff off their feet. As then approach the door
    labeled "His Gronkness, 1.0-Danger! 1 Million Ohms", 2 overpaid
    stagehands yank it apart.
 
    Gronk is playing with an illegal copy of Bard's Tale, and doesn't
    notice his guests. Dale sees that he has just found Mangar.
 
    A brilliant 16 color non-interlaced beam pierces through the
    stuffy air, striking the system squarely in RastPort.
 
Gronk: What the Hell? (he jumps back from the smoldering rubble)
    Who are you!
 
Jim : We're the Amiga Knights, here to mop up the Universe of
    your ilk.
 
Dave : Snappy dialogue Jim!
 
Gronk : Oh, ok. But first, do I get a final requestor?
 
Captain : Well, ok, what do you want.
 
Gronk : Just what is the "Video Toaster".
 
Captain : Only the GnuTekians know for sure. Kodiak, ready?
 
Kodiak : 'natch. Ok extra-halfbright breath, stand back!
 
Announcer : Kodiak blasts the piles of bootleg software, and
    stacks of new virus disks which were being readied for Beta test.
    Gronk looks in horror.
 
Captain : Gronk, you are under arrest, for >>>Software Terrorism<<<.
 
::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
 
Captain : Captain's log, 3.14159, following the arrest of Lord
    Slimeball Gronk, we reformatted the planet in an effort to make
    it useful to more productive races. Meanwhile Gronk is now
    serving time in "computer hell", joining many others who violated
    rules of common sense, decency and The Amiga Way (such as the
    guys responsible for cancelling Max Headroom, the Amiga 500
    on/off switch, or Thomas Rattigan). Gronk was sentenced to 500
    years hard labor: developing a Real-time parallel processing OS
    in Kanji-Basic, on an MSX machine.
 
Announcer : Afterwards, the crew had one other stop to make, back
    to the planet Foo. They beam down to check up on the
    reconstruction efforts as well as to deliver some new Fish Disks,
    (numbers 6.11571x10E6 to 7.23551x10E6). Hundreds of eager hands
    reach out for software nourishment, not to mention the latest Alan
    Hastings video.
 
    Meanwhile Kodiak approaches a familiar young boy and hands him a
    new Marble-Madness. The kid's face brightens up. . .
 
Kid : Geeee, thanks mister! Wow. Say, you wouldn't happen to have
    "Return to Atlantis", would you??
 
Kodiak : Nope, sorry kid, we may be able to work wonders, but not
    miracles.
 
Kid : Well, then, uh, what about TextCraft.
 
Kodiak : Oh grow up.
 
#define PARODY_BIT   OFF
 
::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::
 
Stay tuned for the next excitigating bit-packed episode of Amiga-
The Next Generation 3.0-The Trouble with Marketroids.
 
(the above bit of mindless tripe is Copyright, 1988, by Mike Smithwick)
--
                                   *** mike (powered by M&Ms) smithwick ***
"if peanut oil comes from peanuts, and olive oil comes from
olives, where does baby oil come from?"  ---  Lily Tomlin
[discalimer : nope, I don't work for NASA, I take full blame for my ideas]
    
T.RTitleUserPersonal
Name
DateLines
1113.1If only we could find a vaccine for itPRNSYS::LOMICKAJJeff LomickaThu Jan 28 1988 19:004
I always wondered what "MSDOS" was.  Now I know.

Did you notice the Atari-ST on-board the Starchip Enterboing?  I did.