vr

a novel

Scott Alexander Gabriel Reiss

August 1996

This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental.

From: Nichelle
Date: 1 August 1996
Subject: Laurent...

Laurent, I'm sorry. I tried to get back on Lambda, but I couldn't. We'll have to continue our conversation about Seattle later, and in the meantime, I'll try to get Gaby interested in joining a grunge band. I don't think he has the hair for it. Yesterday he had it all cut off.

Murder, where are you? Do you read your e-mail anymore? I miss you terribly and I wish you would write just a short note to say hello. I don't think I will be able to meet you when you are in New York City, unless some miracle happens or we win the lottery. I do think there is a strong possibility that my mother will fly me to Spokane in December, though.

I'm waiting for e-mail, as always, but nobody writes anymore, not even Gaby. I'll let him tell you about our trip to the French restaurant, when he's got time. He's translating Michelangelo and feeling powerful at the moment. I feel hollow, and have for months. With no job and no school, I have little to contribute, and everything I do is wrong. I feel like a bratty child who is scolded every several minutes for some annoyance. I have never felt so anonymous, so childish, so ignorant, so ugly as I do now. I'm not a needy person, not when I have a normal lifestyle, not when I can talk to people and do things. But here, the walls are bare, and it's lonely, and I'm not sure what is important anymore.

From: Jenipher
Date: 1 August 1996
Subject: Re: Laurent...

Does it help, Seashell, to know people have been where you are? I just want to hold you and tell you everything will be ok, but I doubt that is what you need.

I had just received my Master's degree when we moved to France. I went from an incredibly hectic life as a working grad student to a life of total leisure in a horrid little French village. I though I was dying. I cried all day, every day, hours and hours a day. My life was empty. I wasn't contributing anything to my world. Finally, my doctor put me on prozac, after I tried to kill myself. I don't know how you feel about medicine, Seashell, or if you can find a doctor there you trust. But if you don't think you can handle everything by yourself anymore, please see a doctor. What you describe sounds so familiar to me, I shiver when I read your emails.

I haven't responded to your email oh-so-long ago because I didn't know what to say. You and I obviously will never agree about bdsm. I have begun speaking with a real dom, one trained to dominate. She and I have entered into negotations regarding my possibly serving her. I will keep you updated if you like. It is a big step, but I think my husband and I have finally admitted that candle wax and leather belts are fun, but I need more. I need things he just doesn't have. I felt sick when he and I spoke about it, but he was so sweet and understanding. I think he knows me better and trusts me more than I trust myself.

I asked Colin the other day why I had never been raped, and the question opened a door in my mind. Why didn't my high school physics teacher fuck me in the supply room? Why did my Dad stop just before he raped me? Why didn't the dom at Chibash fuck me when he had me bound, legs spread, on the floor? Why didn't TAs in my college courses hit on me when I was a freshman? All of those things happen to other girls. Is it because they are prettier, sexier, more fuckable? I think these things, and I am ashamed. And you know what? That shames makes me want to take my husband home and hand him the belt and ask him to whip me until I scream.

I really do think I found the source, the reason. I may not be explaining it well. I know Colin didn't buy it. But the question, why haven't I ever been raped, echoed so deeply within me, struck such a chord, that I knew I had found something, some strange key to unlocking this pain.

Sorry for typos. I am in pine and can't seem to go back to correct.

Allset

From: Paticia
Date: 1 August 1996
Subject: RE: Welcome screen

Hi, I deleted all of today's mail, but I nneeded to say something so I'm replying to an old letter I've saved. Not sure if this will go out to the World or if it will just go to sagreiss, but anyway:

Allset, you are in need of a reality check. Why weren't you ever raped? Was it because you weren't pretty enough? WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT? As if Stiff Lips were the most alluring 7 year old on the block and that's why the neighbor kid wanted to touch her, as if she had that come-on look in her eye and her step-daddy just couldn't refuse. Get it straight, rape is not about sex, it is about violence. It is about the fucking sick mind of the offender, the twisted need to prey upon someone less powerful then himself. It is about power.

Stiff Lips, everytime I read about your story I bleed for you. Right now you are free from the rapists physically, but emotionally they still have some hold on you. They come to you in nightmares. I think that one of Gabe's most redeeming qualities is that he is there to hold you when the nightmares come, he wants to help you through this. Have you ever gone through therapy, or would you consider it? Or is there someone you can tell it all to, maybe Gabe, you can get it all out of your system. I hope so.

For lack of better name,
Strawtop

From: Terry
Date: 1 August 1996
Subject: Whew...

Well, I can't Email much; I don't have the time. :) I'm busy on five MOO's right now and have a very full real life.

I'm glad I'm on this Email list... I think I have problems until I read it. I'm lucky. I'm sane. I've not been raped; I don't deserve to be raped. If I ever participated in bdsm shit, it would be for the pure fun of it... not because I *deserve* to be spanked or whatever. Geez, I feel so "normal" after reading Email.

Whew.

Happy with me,
Teri, ArchDeluxe of RLMOO

From: SAGReiss
Date: 1 August 1996
Subject: Two angels

Alright, motherfuckers, take you shots, get them in now before I get really angry. I may be small, but I'm lean and hard and can take a punch. I know I'm going to get a beating for this anyway. I can't even answer Stiff Lips' arguments without making things worse. "Realistic"? Was it realistic a year ago for a man with neither a 'puter nor a university account nor any geek knowledge nor friends nor money nor anything else to say: "I'm going to get me a fucking MOO if it's the last thing I do"? We open in three days. I don't know how to think about other people's work. I have never seen someone wield the sullen, vengeful wrath that I put into everything I undertake. I have heard stories about it, Tennessee William's concentration ("the most frightening sight of the twentieth century" dixit Truman Capote) and others I can't think of right now. Do what you have to do, Allset. Here's what I do: ArchDeluxe is pressuring us to describe the remaining two rooms so she can have them back? Fine, so last night, after a long and stressful day (More on that later.) I found a quatrain of a sonnet by Michelangelo (XV by Symonds' reckoning) so beautiful it escaped two highly-paid, silver-haired, emeriti professors. So I can't read Italian, don't know the grammar, don't have a dictionary? Only a fool or a child would be afraid. Here's the four verses with three English translations, one of which I hammered out in three quarters of an hour, first last night with Stiff Lips interrupting me, then this morning on the shitter, finally while walking from the liquor store to the supermarket. I will put them in random order and you can choose the best one:

Non ha l'ottimo artista alcun concetto
c'un marmo solo in se non circonscriva
col suo superchio, e solo a quello arriva
la man che ubbidisce all'intelletto.

The best of artists hardly can reflect
what yet a single marble block contains
within its girth, which labor he attains
but by the hand that heeds the intellect.

The best of artists hath no thought to show
Which the rough stone in its superfluous shell
Doth not include: to break the marble spell
Is all the hand that serves the brain can do.

Not even the best of artists has any conception
that a single marble block does not contain
within its excess, and *that* is only attained
by the hand that obeys the intellect.

A MOO is a MUD Object-Oriented. A MUD (Multi-User Dimensions) is a computer program which applies the principles of shared memory to communications. For the layman, a MOO is a place in cyberspace, which generally means on someone else's computer, where one can interact with other people in real time. Basically one types and reads and answers. Users telnet into the host computer. Telnet is the Internetworking protocol that serves as a standard by means of which the connected computers understand one another.

MOOs offer a high degree of programming flexibility, which lends itself to a fascinating, though somewhat anarchistic, environment for social discourse and dialogue. MOO was developped by Pavel Curtis and the Xerox Palo Alto Research Center (Xerox PARC), where most of the concepts which define microcomputers were invented. The first, oldest and biggest MOO is LambdaMOO (lambda.xerox.com 8888). There are now hundreds of MOOs and MUDs, each with different goals and themes.

MOOers can also emote or do things, usually by typing ":". Some very foolish controversy has arisen about various abuses of emoting. Let us be clear: MOOs are a linguistic medium in which no one can do anything, except within the framework of a given semiological structure. While the same could be said of what MOOers misleadingly call rl (real life), our society generally draws a line between verbal and physical violence, allowing the former, prohibiting the latter.

The biggest misunderstanding of the cyberspace concerns the expression "vr" or virtual reality. Nothing inherent to this medium in any way cuts it off from everyday life. Some people have chosen to use the MOOs as a fantasyland, as trite and tasteless as the local theme park. This mistake leads to endless spam, the repetition of stereotyped words or actions mindlessly borrowed from other contexts. The MOO's checkered past is behind us. Its present is often exasperating. Its future is in our hands. Carpe diem.

RECTVM VINVM
Scott Alexander Gabriel Reiss

From: Murder
Date: 1 August 1996
Subject: New York...

Sorry it has taken me so long to write. My apologies also to Gabe, for missing your birthday. I have been out of town for about a week and had to unsubscribe from some of my mailing lists so that I wouldn't have so much damn mail when I returned. Stiff Lips, what do you mean you can't come to NYC??? This seriously puts a damper on things. I wish I had enough money to get you on a bus, etc., but I just don't. I'm pretty much broke. I have an interview for a serving position at a Best Western in a couple days. I am in dire need of some buckage. I had a very disturbing dream last night, no doubt induced by reading the posts to this list. My dream was about the rlMOO, and that it was illegal and strictly enforced, and that anyone caught having cybersex or whatever would be locked up for good. I was aware of a computer lab in town that was open only from 1:00 to 3:00 A.M. exclusively for the purpose of cybersex. As luck would have it, I was not on more than 10 minutes when the door burst open and the cops busted me. Premonition for the future?? God, I hope not. Finally, we have a medium where it is okay to tell it like it is and they want to take it away from us. Bastards. I miss you, too, Nic, and I feel like no one around here understands me. While I do have to agree w/Terri that my life is good compared to what I read on this list, this does not mean that I do not suffer in my own way. Even some of my best friends have turned against me, and my closest friend that I have here at school can't understand me, does not know why I do the things I do, and thinks I'm schizophrenic, or neurotic, or whatever the hell. The letters I write her are too much for her, she says. The truth is, I'm lonlier than shit, and I am close to the breaking point--the point where I cannot work, cannot concentrate, cannot create. It tears me to shreds. I live a much different kind of hell than any of you, but it is still hell to me. Nic, send me the copy of the duet and I will see what I can do. If it is anything like our "Miniatures" I'm sure it will be wonderful. In case you're wondering, Gabe, I do read each and every letter that is sent to this list, but I just don't take the time to respond, even when I disagree with someone and everything he/she stands for, as is the case with Allset. I have never been able to understand the self-loathing and complete disrespect for others shown in the abhorrent behavior of a cock-tease. That is one of my prime pet-peeves about women, as Stiff Lips pointed out.

Murder

From: SAGReiss
Date: 1 August 1996
Subject: RL MOO

My friend Nichelle and I, together with a long list of our co-workers, hereby invite each and every one of you to the Grand Opening of a new MOO, the Real Life MOO, at one minute past midnight on Monday 5 August Eastern US time. Characters may already be requested from ArchDeluxe but, in keeping with the spirit of RL MOO, real names are in some form to be used and, in keeping with our wish to stay out of jail, one must be twenty-one or older to participate. For additional information, please see RL MOO's web pages.

RECTVM VINVM
Scott Alexander Gabriel Reiss

From: Terry
Date: 1 August 1996
Subject: Life

Hello again. Wow, two Emails from me in a single day.

I have to agree with Murder... my life isn't perfect, but I'm thankful I have shit that I can at least deal with on a level that I can live with.

I, too, am lonely. Hard to imagine; for I'm always surrounded IRL and MOO by many, many people/friends. It is possible to be alone and in a crowd at the same time.

I see couples together on MOO all the time and I wonder why I can't seem to hang on to one person on MOO... I'm constantly looking for a guy that is stronger (not physically) than me. I know I have a strong, and sometimes geeky, personality. But, surely there is one guy in the world that's able to handle me on MOO????

I bury myself in work and enjoy it. I don't deserve to be raped. I don't deserve to be spanked. I don't deserve to be pushed around. I do deserve to be treated with respect and I even demand it, at times. (Ask Gabe for details concerning the time he called me a FWB.)

I'm a great person. Heh. Fairly happy with myself and my life. I just like to bitch at times.

Laterz and see you on MOO!
Teri

From: Murder
Date: 1 August 1996
Subject: Re: Life

Also my second message for the day. Geez, Gabe, did you ever expect two messages each from two different people (besides yourself, of course) on the SAME DAY???? I really liked Strawtop's post. I think Allset is a FWB herself and I am not afraid to say it. Some people are so far removed from reality that it scares me, even taking into account the fact that reality is a highly subjective thing. At some point in our lives, we must get a grip. I value very highly Stiff Lips' determination to face her life situations head on. I have known her for (help me out here) seven years or so; determination is one of her stronger suits. I have always sensed that she is torn between resignation and sheer willpower, in which case willpower almost invariably wins. She knows what is good for her and what is not. She takes responsibility for her actions in a way few people could ever match up to, and she doesn't shift blame as readily as many others I know. None of what I have just said applies to Allset. True, Allset, we have never met and probably never will (except maybe someday on the MOO), and I have not so much as even read your conversations on the MOO much less know the details of your life story. But, judging from your posts, you are weak. Very weak. I am a big fan of the existentialist notion that we must take responsibility for our own actions, desires, and fears. The moment we allow someone else to dictate how we feel we become a puppet in someone else's sick little play. In short, we are dead. We are not alive. To be alive means to take responsibility for ourselves, not to pine away the hours wondering why we've never been raped. Stiff Lips does not pine. She has integrity and honestly wants to share her experiences with others and get her feelings out into the open. Allset pines. Allset wants attention. Allset has no regard for the feelings of others. In this sense, Allset can never live. Stiff Lips works toward resolution and chooses life; Allset resigns and chooses death.

Murder

From: Terry
Date: 1 August 1996
Subject: Re: Murder

I think I wanna meet this guy. He actually talks normal.

Teri, ArchWizard

From: Nichelle
Date: 2 August 1996
Subject: 1, 4, 7...

I wanted to reply in some logical order, but my mind is reeling. First things first. Murder, I will try to come to NYC. It all depends on my crazy work situation. It is painful to me to imagine the two of us, in our simple, strange, and perfect friendship, separated by thousands of miles and terrible loneliness. Somehow you and I have survived. I read your letter three times, set it aside, read it again just a moment ago. I *miss* you, and our adventures, and our caterwauling around Helensberg. Have you become a man and I a woman since we met, since I asked you (in the practice room, second lunch, 11th grade) to be my boyfriend? I only wish I could be there with you, playing duets. I don't know how anything on earth can be so chaste and pure as our friendship is, while playing music so full of sweat and sex and passion. (C.P.E. Bach excepted.)

Allset, I am stunned. You ask why you haven't ever been raped? It astounds me that women talk about being raped like it is some trophy, or that something is wrong with them if it hasn't happened, as if it was some kind of passage into womanhood. And yet *your* impulse is to hold *me*? I'm not going to kill myself. I don't need prozac. What I do need is a job, or full-time school. No, I don't understand the leather belts, the candle wax, the pain, the shame, the real-life dominatrix... I won't make the obvious remark about your Master's degree. No, Allset. No medication, no pain, and no shame.

>I'm glad I'm on this Email list... I think I have problems until I read it.
>I'm lucky. I'm sane.

What exactly can I say about this? Being lonely is not the same thing as being crazy. Are you only here as a dazzling example of sanity? Are we not all human? Tell me, Teri, in your monumental sanity, what plagues your most horrible dreams, and what are your dark fantasies?

As for you, Gaby, I cannot leave your letter untouched. Your translation is beautiful, and I've put it up as the description for the room called Michelangelo. You do beautiful work under difficult circumstances, and the people who only see 'cunt' and 'motherfucker' and 'FWB' are missing the point. I did not crucify you in my letter. I have seen those bow-legged, pseudo-intellectual assholes in the living room gang up on you, and I know it must get to you sometimes. But not me, my love. You only make my life richer. I read and see and smell and taste the world in a way I never could, and all because you are here, showing me the beautiful things you know, one at a time.

What the hell, Strawtop? Rape is not about sex, it's about violence? You bleed for me? Therapy? As for who I can tell it all to, what about the 750 strangers who have been to the web site? Sure I have nightmares about rape. So...? Murder has nightmares about cybersex. Gaby has nighmares about being chased by an army of 5'8", 110 lb, green-eyed, redheaded MOOers. We all have them. I liked your comments about being "the most alluring 7 year old on the block." I most certainly was.

Your letter, Teri, was a beautiful self-affirmation, but I wonder why you feel the need to say you don't deserve to be spanked, or raped, that you deserve to be treated with respect. None of us deserves to be raped, or spanked, or beaten, or hurt. I've been searching for the letter in which Gabe mentions your comment about a rape fantasy. If you could see the mess of papers, stacks of books, our floor littered with sonnets and dictionaries and e-mail, you would understand why I couldn't find it. But I'll not forget to mention that you said it...

Murder, I'm flattered. I just got your new message. Just don't forget that we've all got our motives...

From: Corinne
Date: 2 August 1996
Subject: merde

Je sais que j'ai jamais ecris...
et on a perdu to numero de tel.
ceci etant dit, on va se barrer de ce putain de trou, mais on sais pas ou
on va. et puis on est marries maintenant. on s;'en fout, mais on l'est.
et donc, on se fait une petite bouffe--ou une grosse.
(appelle ns avant le 7 aout)
trop saoule pour ecrire plus
corinne

From: Jenipher
Date: 2 August 1996
Subject: Hey Gabe

Translate that last mail for me, will you? I don't have my French dictionary with me.

I see lambda is down, and you are up very early. Either that, or I just got a mail that was sent sometime before you went to bed last night. I am sure you can tell, but just in case, this mail is just to you.

I imagine I will never understand what is wrong with me, or why everyone hates me so. I wasn't seeking attention. I thought I could use the listserv to share my feelings and self-realizations. I don't let these things run my life irl. As I have said, I am very strong. I stab people who try to hurt me. Perhaps, in text, I am able to be vulnerable and seek attention. That won't happen again. I will tell about how I run my life with the precision of an army drill sergeant next week. How I keep my husband's world going while he thinks of nothing but Physics and forgets to eat and sleep. How I had to go home two months ago to talk my mothe out of killing herself, and how I was successful. I am not weak. If I have given such a false impression, I can't correct it now. I was just stupid to share. I don't know how my sharing was any different than anyone else's, but there you have it.

Oh well, Colin knows the ugliest side of me, and he is still here. That's all that matters.

Fuck this
Write me

From: Patricia
Date: 2 August 1996
Subject: RE: Two angels

Gabe - I liked the second translation the best (the one you did while on the shitter? Is it better to be constipated or contemplative, but anyway..) I have a friend who was raised in irt Italy if you'd like a literal translation, but I think you've got the essence without question.

Stiff Lips - I hope that did not sound condescending. AllseT's mail angered me (more than I showed, I controlled it) so much that the back lash was to be protective of someone who actually had been victimized. So I apologise. However, I think you are over-rationalizing the normalcy of your nightmares. We all have nightmares, yes, but we don't generally shake in terror from them and scream in our sleep. You have shared your story with the hundreds of people who've hit the web page. Gabriel can tell you that until I read that story I thought that he was just another stupid asshole spouting off in the LR.
It showed me that you are a very strong woman - in your same situation, I might well have retreated into some kind of catatonic seizure and spent the rest of my life in some mental institution.

Teri - Yes, not everyone on this list is riddled with problems. We've met on MOO before, btw, but I don't think you liked me very much so i won't tell you when or where (yet).

Murder - welcome back, I enjoyed reading your mail.

c. - Je ne parle pas francais. 3 years of hs french taught me that sentence. Oh well.

Strawtop

From: Jenipher
Date: 2 August 1996
Subject: Hmmm...

> She has integrity and honestly wants to share her experiences with
> others and get her feelings out into the open.

I have hesitated to reply for the last six hours, and I will try to make this my only reply. That is -exactly- what I want to do, as well, Murder. If you have misinterpreted my emails, or if I have erred somehow in my communications to you, I can understand this mix-up. I just want you to know, I am not weak. I opened myself up to you all, allowed you to know things about me I rarely show anyone. I am not sure how that is seeking attention. Perhaps you can clarify. You, or someone, anyone.

Maybe, in text, I allow myself to seem more vulnerable than I am. I acknowledge and take full responsibility for that. The strangest line in your email was

> To be alive means to take responsibility for ourselves,...

and the further implication that I didn't do that. I make my decisions knowing full well what the consequences will be. I have achieved an incredibly high level of self-understanding. So maybe you need to try again, Murder, or perhaps you could try not being so goddamned judgemental with regard to someone and something about which you know practically nothing.

Allset

From: Nichelle
Date: 2 August 1996
Subject: %new activity on world g

My mother is one crazy bitch. She calls at 5 AM (Pacific time) to tell me that since I haven't sent e-mail in a week, she's ready to call the Syracuse Police and see if I'm OK. As I just said to Laurent, a lot of weirdness on the listserv. What surprises me is, I've never seen Murder launch such a serious attack against anyone in the seven years I've known him. I don't hate you, Allset, and do remember that Gaby and I share an account. Neither of us receives anything privately. I know he'll have a lot to say when he gets home, and I'm tired out. Last night, my ex-boyfriend from the midwest came on the MOO as a guest, and negatron chased him off. I spent all morning on the phone with my mother, and I'm starting to wish I liked drinking a little better. "No, I'm fine. No, don't call the police. It's *OK* mom. I just forgot to send you e-mail. No, I'm *FINE*." A full hour of this, luckily on her bill. I'm going to go now, and try to call the asshole who owes me a recommendation. Doesn't he know that school starts in a month?

From: Murder
Date: 2 August 1996
Subject: Re: Hmmm...

Just got finished with my last final--three in one day. No wonder I wrote such a crazy letter last night. Allset, you are very right in saying that I have no right to judge someone or something I know nothing about. I have admitted that I am going strictly on your previous posts--some dating back several months. Yes, I also realize that you have gotten things out into the open for all of us to see. That does require a certain amount of courage. My point in all of this is simply that one must take responsibility for one's own actions without claiming victimhood every time something backfires. Of course no one deserves to be raped. That is a given. But I gather from your posts (and I may very well be misinterpreting this, given my emotional state the last few days) that you wish you had. Why? To prove you are worthy of some sick man's violent conquest? Priorities... Stiff Lips herself can attest to the fact that I have grown up in what many people consider an "ideal situation." In fact, I think she once referred to one particularly traditional event as "a classic, Leave-It-To-Beaver episode." But I still have my problems. Endlessly jumping through hoops of the educational system, like many of you, just to get a piece of paper that says I did my time. It is a very lonely process. I am burnt out and am prone to depression. Still, I can choose my way out of it. Some days I just don't have the strength. Other days I will fight tooth and nail to make a difference. The times when I feel the best about myself are the times I have forgotten myself in my quest to help others. This is the only way we can truly make a difference in this lifetime--to make a difference to someone else. Fur dich leben, fur dich sterben (sorry about the missing umlauts). This is not about religious doctrine or anything like that, it is about human decency, something which I find ever lacking in my own self. Allset, my post was not directed at you as much as it was a vent for my own insecurities (of which I have many), and it was in a moment of weakness that I hit Ctrl X to send. I feel like I have no outlet to express some of these feelings, but on the forum of this list maybe I will gradually learn how, among other people who are gradually learning how...

Murder

From: SAGReiss
Date: 2 August 1996
Subject: Stalker

The fucking MOO isn't even open yet and we've already got a free-for-all on our hands. Not only that, but one of Stiff Lips', um, admirers has already made a cameo appearence. Happily, instead of finding his prey, he found a mean dog called negatron who, I hope, was meaner than necessary to get rid of the cunt. Let me try to begin by addressing the relatively few people on this fucking listserv I'm not angry at. Comecabra, this is what's called blackmail. Either you give me a text to put on the web pages or I'll post your lovely little letter from yesterday. I'm not going to let the first member of the World forsake this land of death without leaving me something for the site. I hope we can get together. How about Sunday evening, before the MOO opens? I'll call you tonight. Maybe it's just the tension of the Grand Opening, but that was one weird and prolific day of e-mail. I don't know whom to insult first. Allset, fuck this Dr Prosac shit. Stiff Lips needs a job, to go to school and to play her fucking horn. None of this is my fault (I told her right when she got here that I had a tendancy to swallow up women, that Calamity Kate wrote on her mid-term evaluation of me, before we slept together, that I should found a cult.) but neither does it drugs and/or therapy. Stiff Lips' letter was not a plea for help. It was trolling for e-mail, and wildly successful at that. ArchDeluxe, as John can tell you, I don't need to log text, I remember: "I fantasize about rape. Sometimes I think I deserve to be raped." Enough said. One of the few intelligent things I've ever heard in the Living Room is: "A normal person is someone you don't know very well." I'm tired of people telling me about their Tres Riches Jours. The Duc de Berry was probably bored stiff with his fucking wife and mistresses and felt even more dead when he held that stupid little commissioned book in his aristocratic little hand. I'm probably in the best position of any of us to be called 'abnormal'. As I told Allset this morning, I've been in jail and a psych ward, not once. I have no family, no social life, no hobbies, a job totally unrelated to my calling. In the future, if you want to attack 'abnormality' please pick on someone your own size, and that means me. Murder, your letter was so mean-spirited I have to quote it: "...even when I disagree with someone and everything he/she stands for, as is the case with Allset. I have never been able to understand the self-loathing and complete disrespect for others shown in the abhorrent behavior of a cock-tease." Are you sure you really wanted to say that? If not, I can put it down to the thoughtlessness which e-mail encourages, which is one of the things I love about it. Had Comecabra thought before she sent that letter with five spelling mistakes to a man who worships spelling mistakes and is looking for a text from her, she might not have sent it. And yes, Strawtop, I will post that letter without her consent if need be. It's beautiful and no one is master of a text, neither author nor reader. If you really meant to say that, I'll still try to excuse you because you are so young. Allset, on the other hand, may not be so forgiving. She is pissed. I don't understand the gratuitous nature and groundlessness of your attack, which struck me as soon as I read the letter. I have said, in public, that S&M is pathological. Allset did not quibble, but I have also said that drinking as much as I do or eating as much as Stiff Lips must have is also pathological. There are enough pathologies to go around. Nor am I preaching tolerance. On the contrary, I have put: "La tolerance est la vertu des faibles" in the private room called Sade. I'm simply amazed that you would lash out at someone who is publically wrestling with her demons and writing some pretty good letters. In case you hadn't noticed, this list is not exactly dedicated to what I did on my summer holiday... Strawtop, you are wrong on all counts. First, no rape is not about sex. Rape is sex. It is sexual behavior on the less-consent, more-violence end of the spectrum. Further complicating matters is the fact that no one with a brain believes in free will, which kind of trashes the whole notion of consent. As disturbing as it may seem, the difference between 'normal' sex and rape can be as slim as refusing to pay a whore or scorning a woman the next morning. If consent was made under terms differently understood by the two parties, then meaningful consent was never made. Back to Murder. Your second letter I cannot simply toss off to the irresponsibility of youth. That is just a crazy, savage letter. You also don't know shit about existentialism. Try Kierkegaard and Heidigger. Existentialism is a philosophy of the will. It's very clearly explained in The Sickness unto Death. Kierk says we must have the will to wallow in despair, precisely the quality which you mistakenly attribute to Allset. I have no idea what the fuck you mean by: "Allset pines. Allset wants attention. Allset has no regard for others." Doesn't the phrase "wastes and pines" ring a bell? I don't know what to say, except please accept my apologies, Allset, for this dumb-stupid and totally uncalled-for assault. I'm sorry it happened. I don't know why it happened. Fuck, the whole thing started with what was a brazen and obvious (to me) call for attention on the part of Stiff Lips. What's wrong with craving attention? Who doesn't like to get e-mail? I hope, Allset, you won't allow the misunderstandings of the Philistines stop you from helping us reach our goal of exploring our lives in a literary medium. Strawtop, wrong again. Stiff Lips drew straws out of a hat, or something a little less poetic, and mine is the first. I shall briefly say why it is unquestionably the best. There are three problems in translating this quatrain, the meaning of "concetto", the rhyme with "intelletto" and the loose syntax linking the subordinate clause to the main clause. The second translation simply ignores the third problem, making two independant clauses, which is no solution at all. The third translation tries to solve the problem with italics, which is a vulgar faute de gout. The first translation rather elegantly uses a relative also as a determiner. However it is the first two problems which prove my translation's superiority. A conceit is what made John Donne rich and famous. For more on this matter see T.S. Eliot's brilliant article "The Metaphysical Poets". It is usually an extended metaphore of unusual complexity and difficulty. Instead of trying to find a translation, I have made my own conceit, for the verb reflect means both 'to think', which makes the rhyme with "intellect" all the richer semantically, and 'to represent' artistically, which alludes to the theme of mimesis so present in the meaning of the poem. Shiiit, "show" and "do" is poorer both phonetically and rhetorically. Murder (and I'll stop soon) you just keep putting your foot in your mouth: "your previous posts--some dating back several months"? She's only been on the list for four weeks.... Enough of this bullshit. I'd like to thank each and every one of you for your extraordinary participation these last two days. It almost rekindles my lost hope in mankind. I hope we can all get together in a more informal context Sunday night. Vale.

RECTVM VINVM
Scott Alexander Gabriel Reiss

From: Terry
Date: 2 August 1996
Subject: Re: Stalker

Ok, just to clear something up... the night I made the comment about *deserving to be raped* and fantasizing about it... I was sooooooooo drunk I wasn't even rational, much less believable.

So, for the record, I don't deserve to be raped. And don't believe everything a person says on MOO when drunk. :)

As for meeting Sunday concerning RLMOO, I can do Sunday afternoon... not evening. Unless it's after 10 pm CST. :)

Laterz,
Teri

From: Murder
Date: 3 August 1996
Subject: Countdown

I didn't know quite what to make of Gabe's letter from yesterday. What exactly is your definition of "free will?" Do you mean that neither society nor the individual has free will? I just want to make sure that I am understanding you correctly before I jump all over your opinions of this. What you said about my "crazy, savage letter" was pretty accurate, and it would be easy to attribute it to the six-pack I had downed in 45 minutes (and I'm a lightweight) before I wrote the letter from a friend's 'puter. But I take full responsibility for my oversights, even the stupid ones such as my attribution of Allset's posts "from the last several months" which was obviously a result of temporal perceptions gone awry. However, I must disagree with Gabe's assertion that I "don't know shit about existentialism." I have read Kierkegaard, as well as Sartre', Jaspers, Marcel (since I was Catholic for a long time)... oh, who cares. Your claim (I'm paraphrasing...I printed a copy of the letter, deleted it, the lost the copy) that wallowing in self-pity is at the heart of existentialism is entirely too pessimistic and inaccurate. Kierkegaard, et al claim that we must face this despair and anguish (which Kierk refers to as "the sickness"), but that out of this arises Being. Existence before essence is the way I have always understood it. What I was referring to in the part about taking responsibility for ourselves was the Sartrian notion that man is what he makes himself. When he chooses for himself he also chooses for all, which (maybe only very indirectly) affects all. I acknowledge that Kierkegaard is regarded as the first existentialist, hence your undue bias toward him? This bias is the same as my saying that since Beethoven is acknowledged as the first Romantic composer, he is the only true Romantic and all the rest of the fine composers of the Nineteenth and early Twentieth centuries were not. Anyway, as with any philosophy, existentialism is much more complicated at its highest levels (notice how coyly I avoid the word "essence") than what we could ever represent in words. Also, like any other philosophy, we can all agree on what it denies but are much less clear on what it affirms. So, having said all that, I will not comment further on my previous letter. On a much more positive note: congratulations to Gabe, Stiff Lips, et al for all their hard work on the MOO. For you, Gabe, this must be a particularly exciting moment, for your dream has come to fruition.

Murder

From: Nichelle
Date: 5 August 1996
Subject: smart, orally-fixated, clarinet-playing diplomat

I can't sleep. Allset, I was thinking about you tonight at dinner while Gaby, Corinne, and Keith spoke French and I couldn't understand a word. You must feel very isolated. Don't let this recent outburst keep you from writing. It is easy to forget on the 'net that you are dealing with real people. It is also easy to forget, with such a big bdsm community on the internet, that it isn't as common as we might think...

Name calling is bound to happen. I had to remind Gabriel several times tonight not to bad-mouth the incoming guests on RL MOO. Sometimes we fail to make the connection between the words on the screen and the person typing them. We're not all equally willing (or capable) to accept the concept of being tied up and whipped.

Please don't stop writing, Allset. You and I may not agree about bdsm, but that doesn't mean we can't talk about it. Maybe we'll both get something out of our conversation. I know that you are not weak. As Gaby reminded me the other day, we're all at war with ourselves. And sometimes we will be at war with each other. But let's not do it through name calling. I have admitted that I misjudged you. Perhaps a few others may decide that someday too. Now I'm going to try to sleep. Take care, and I will see you all on our new MOO.

-Stiff Lips

From: SAGReiss
Date: 5 August 1996
Subject: Sesame, ouvre-toi

To those of you who were with us last night I send my thanks. To those of you who couldn't make it I extend our invitation. I thought it went well. Even the glare of sobriety and the cold black on white of a printed log don't obscure the spamless, occasionally witty debut of RL MOO. I'm so glad that Corinne and Jeff were there. If you are reading this, I cannot express my thanks to you two. For those of you who don't know, Corinne and Jeff are my best friends irl, they who helped my drunken, staggering, angry self through a year of hell at a famous university, who have now read about two thousand pages of my peculiar brand of madness. They are the only original members of this list. Stiff Lips came five days later, negatron soon afterwards. All in all I think it went well. I was hoping for a few more people, but that will come. I ask each of you to please use a split screen to idle in RL MOO while elsemoo so that guests will not come on to an empty place. Please feel free to give out the address to whomever you want. It's a public place. Everyone is welcome. By the same token I have received a MOOmail from someone who wanted to join the list. Some of the words disturbed me. This is NOT my place. Neither is it exactly public. This is the inner circle of the network which includes a middle circle (the web pages) and an outer circle (the MOO). Some discretion must be used because some people are not comfortable with other people knowing their e-mail address. Nevertheless, each of you is free to add friends, keeping this necessary discretion in mind. While the World must stay a place where we can write about ourselves and our lives with confidence, I trust each of you to use your judgement. Murder, I don't think your Beethoven analogy is pertinent. Neither do I have a Kierkegaard komplex. I like Heidigger too. Sartre is one of those half-breeds who can do neither philosophy nor literature. You say something very stupid about our not being able to express the more complex issues of existentialism in words. How would you suggest philosophy be expressed, in pictures? Colin, when oh when are you going to send me the MTV version of your battles with that crazy bitch onna MOO? If she is who I think she is, she is a vr nightmare. I hate that cunt. I guess my new nickname is Ahab, which could be worse. Will someone please think up a very demeaning little handle for negatron? I hate to have to do all the work. I won't write more now. I'm too excited about going back to our fucking MOO. Vale

RECTVM VINVM
Scott Alexander Gabriel Reiss

From: Terry
Date: 6 August 1996
Subject: Introducing...

I'd like to introduce the newest guy in my life. His name is Contraire. He's a handsome guy; and strong too. He's controlling, by nature (which I count as a quality in men). He dictates to me what I will do and when I will do it... and how, at times. He has a mind of his own and usually won't listen to me. I love this guy, though. He's loaded. He seems to know just how far he can push me; he has an inner sense of my frustrational level (as far as he is concerned). He stays beside me as long as I want him to. He doesn't argue. He entertains me. He will even do my work for me. So, who is this great guy?

My new computer. :)

Yes, he's male. Yes, I named him. Contraire. The name should say it all.

I finally broke down and bought the components for what I've been wanting for a really long time. Here it is: Pentium 133, 1.2 gig HD (to run Linux), 1.6 gig HD (Win 95), 8X CD ROM, 33.6 fax/modem, 32 megs RAM, 2 meg video card, 1.44 HD floppy, etc.

Contraire and I are very happy... we work well together. He most usually gets his way, though (just like Gabe). :)

Teri

From: SAGReiss
Date: 6 August 1996
Subject: I want to blow you

The room service guy came in still drunk from the night before. He kept mumbling this dumb-ass country and western song. My ears perked up when I heard the words: "angry johnny". I asked him about it, but he wasn't coherent enough to give me an answer. I'm not too coherent now either. I got beat up at work. I seem to have found a berkeleyesque strategy, however. Since one of the stupid-shit wench bosses said I've made improvements, all the bosses are very happy with me. My image seems to have changed from that of a rude slacker to that of an enthousiastic team player in a matter of days, with no change of behavior on my part. Esse IS percipi. It has come to my attention that some of you may have been thinking I've got some horrible mark of Cain on my forehead, but were too polite and New-Age PC to mention it. The simple answer is that I got much, much too drunk a few days before the photograph was taken and fell down a flight of stairs. Those are cuts on my head, not physical evidence of moral corruption. I'd like to introduce a new member, who threatens to outwrite me, as many have done before. I have yet to meet the (wo)man who has my literary stamina, though history is full of examples. If you look at the correspondance of Horace Walpole or Voltaire or the Memoires de Saint-Simon, you'll see that those motherfuckers wrote a hell of a lot. Anyway I can't tell you much about Opal. Allset can probably introduce her more fully or she can do it herself...

RECTVM VINVM
Scott Alexander Gabriel Reiss

From: Nichelle
Date: 6 August 1996
Subject: angry johnny goes West

It was a strange evening, which started with me creating a crisis, and ended with Gabriel waking from his sleep, sitting up on the edge of the bed for perhaps the tenth time, and saying 'I have two loves. Where is my other love?'. It was a difficult evening, full of tears and whisky, but we could have done worse. Who knows, life may get more crazy in a good way very soon. I'll get to see Murder in NYC, and perhaps my composer friend, Stefan. I'm tired, but it's too hot to sleep. It's hard sometimes, but I'm happy I have come here to live with my love...

From: Jenipher
Date: 7 August 1996
Subject: Re: angry johnny goes West

I am quite sure Opal can speak for herself in introduction, should she so choose to. To her, I offer my welcome to the World, as I have offered her myself.

Murder, I am sorry I jumped down your throat last week. I was incensed at your email. I feel better now, all soft and gooey inside after a lovely breakfast of orange juice and Extra! cereal. Cereals in France pretty much suck. They have at least five varieties of chocolate flavored cereals. I don't mean like Cocoa Puffs. I mean flavored with dark chocolate. It is like eating a Lindt bar with 70% cocoa solids. Or I can choose French muesli, which is horribly grainy and disgusting to one used to that faux-American-brand-of-muesli, Mueslix. (Is it Mueslix or Meuslix? I hate word blocks.)

I haven't logged onto RL MOO much. I am not sure why, unless it is because I can't cyberfuck for at least the next month, and I am not quite sure what else there is to do there. Gabe, you say we shouldn't think of it as CybersexMOO, but then I see you idle there and chattering away on lambda. Is it because no one fuckable has approached you on your MOO? Maybe we should try mindfucking instead. It is great fun. I'll meet you in Sade at 4 p.m. your time, and we will see who cries first.

Seashell, I loved your line about tears and whisky. I used it in my plea for description suggestions in Sensual Respites. I notice, though, that your style of writing seems more similar to Gabe's every day. Have you reached some perfect symbiosis in which thoughts and styles are efficiently shared?

Allset

From: Jenipher
Date: 7 August 1996
Subject: Love

SAGReiss [to Tesla]: I've got to go back to work. Would you please e-mail Stiff Lips and tell her I love her?

This was just a second ago, on lambda.

Hope you are doing well. Gabe loves you. :-)

Jeni

From: Nichelle
Date: 7 August 1996
Subject: quick note

I had strange dreams all night about Gabriel speaking French with my old contemporary music instructor while I folded enormous blankets. I won't even try to analyze. I'm going to shower, catch the bus to Wegman's, bring home the groceries, and then go up to the library to watch a movie at about 4 PM, EST. I'll be home in time to make won ton soup for dinner. The lady at LeMoyne was in a meeting. I've got to go. It's hot here.

From: Terry
Date: 7 August 1996
Subject: Re: angry johnny goes West

On Wed, 7 Aug 1996, Jenipher wrote:
> I haven't logged onto RL MOO much. I am not sure why, unless it is
> because I can't cyberfuck for at least the next month, and I am not quite
> sure what else there is to do there. Gabe, you say we shouldn't think of
> it as CybersexMOO, but then I see you idle there and chattering away on
> lambda. Is it because no one fuckable has approached you on your MOO?
> Maybe we should try mindfucking instead. It is great fun. I'll meet you
> in Sade at 4 p.m. your time, and we will see who cries first.

Geez... I didn't know whether to laugh or to cry when I read this. Helllllllllooooooooooooo??? My educated mind cannot even grasp the idea of MOOing only for cybersex. RLMOO IS NOT SEXMOO. Next time you log on, read: help theme

I haven't spent hours and hours working on RLMOO to have it become FuckMOO. Shit, there's more to MOOlife than online sex. If couples choose to engage in cybersex on RLMOO, that's their business; I know it's on every other MOO... why would we expect to be exempt? BUT, I want to make it perfectly clear, as ArchDeluxe (heh), that the purpose/objective/goal of RLMOO is NOT to give players a place to typo-fuck. Read the help files there. :)

Feeling better now that I got that off my chest,
Teri

From: Murder
Date: 8 August 1996
Subject: Re: quick note

Your contemporary music instructor meaning Kendall?

Murder

From: SAGReiss
Date: 8 August 1996
Subject: (no subject)

Six to eight people were on the MOO this afternoon. The AntiSexMOO is going to work, maybe even flourish. One day we shall all be rich and famous. In honor of angry johnny's new status (and because none of you has thought up a nickname) I have decided we can call him FratBoy. Thank you ever so much, Patricia/Werner for redeeming me in the eyes of my very sceptical peers. Yes, my drunken delerium quotes Shakes: "Two loves have I". Yes, my little friends, I'm not brain dead yet. I think we must let that boy create a room on RL. To do otherwise would be to discourage him and to say: "This is our MOO not yours." It must belong to all of its members. This may in the future create tension: "How come he can create the Nietzsche room, but I can't create the Miss_Bunny_FOO_FOO_Rumpus_Room?" Well just have to evaluate proposals on an ad hoc basis. I kind of like Nichelle's restrictions. I would like to avoid a place where everyone is in his own private space paging slanderous lies about the wizzen to his friends. So far the public space is working well. Most of the people from Lambda have understood that this is not the place for idiotspam. Nichelle tells me someone tried last night and was ignored and left. That's nice, unless I'm feeling a little combatative... Just to show that I too can write a dumbshit spammy neo-Anne Rice description as well as the next man, here then is my official entry in the Sensual Respites contest:

1776, Lacoste, the chateau of Donatien Aldonze Francois (Louis), Comte de Sade a.k.a. Marquis. The seeds of revolution have been sown. The peasants are angry in the fields. The merchants are angry in the shops. The bishops are angry in the cathedrals. The aristocrats are angry in their castles. Across the Atlantic a fight over taxes is quickly becoming a war over sovereignty fraught with hangings for treason and heady talk of freedom and democracy. Behind the stone walls of Lacoste the host, his wife, Renee-Pelagie, nee de Montreuil, and a dozen young domestics perform plays to entertain the guests. After dark the theatre takes place in the servants' quarters or the master's apartment. These midnight improvisations are the subject of rumour in and around the village. In Paris there is still talk of the sacrilege of Easter 1768. In Aix-en-Provence a death sentence for sodomy is under appeal. In Lyon parents strive to recover their sons and daughters indentured to the lord of Lacoste. You are asleep in the dormitory. A key unlocks the door. In walks a small man with blond curls and blue eyes. His faithful valet de chambre, Carteron a.k.a. La Jeunesse, follows...

RECTVM VINVM
Scott Alexander Gabriel Reiss

From: Nichelle
Date: 10 August 1996
Subject: alt.sex.pictures.female.cheerleaders

Colin, you've done yourself in. I just asked him on the moo if he really keeps abreast of these nudegroups. I'm trying to get him mad so he'll write me hate-mail. I forgot that it's Saturday and the buses are all screwed up. I'm going to Wegman's again, not Price Chopper, because at least it's big enough to keep me entertained until the bus. I know I don't have to go, Gaby, but I'm bored anyway, and you say you've been craving penis butter for a week and a half.

My father and stepmother are going to be here in a few days. I feel sorry enough for myself, but... poor Gabriel. My father has worked for the Boy Scouts for about 25 years. He sends me badges and things when he writes letters. I find it deeply disturbing.

Murder, where's the information on the conference? Get off your lazy butt and send it to me. How am I supposed to come visit you if you're not going to tell me where you are? I'm excited, though I imagine your little conference swarming with tall, wispy blonde girls. They'll probably just play a bunch of sickening French music anyway. The only good French piece is Debussy's Premiere Rapsodie. Everything else is shit. The only thing that comes close for me is his Saxophone Rapsodie, and only because it's got a good story behind it. Even snotty frenchmen didn't want to write for the saxophone. After three years of procrastinating, I guess the dreaded Saxophone Lady finally clubbed Debussy over the head with her tenor until he consented to finish. It gives me giggles every time I think about it.

I'm off. I choked on my banana bread this morning. No bueno. Strawtop, when are you going to get your friend on this list?

-Stiff Lips

From: Nichelle
Date: 10 August 1996
Subject: tenor

I know. Alto. So sue me.

From: Nichelle
Date: 11 August 1996
Subject: The Flute In Poland

Murder, I will try to be kind, but a few things cannot go without comment. What on earth is flocalizing? (For those of you who do not know what is going on, Murder sent me the schedule for the National Flute Association's annual (?) conference, which is in NYC this year, where I will join him in less than a week.) Also, with a little more planning, Dr. Mitchell could have placed his session on "Understanding and Preventing Ear Damage" after the Piccolo Artist Competition. No, scratch that. Switch those two. And "Tips For Amateurs"? I could just sum it all up in one sentence: switch to clarinet before it is too late.

I haven't got the energy to tackle the rest of the conference program. I think I've got an ulcer. Before I go to bed, I shall briefly introduce the newest member of this list, though I hope he will introduce himself to you also. If you have been to RL MOO (and curse you if you haven't) you may have already met WernerH. He's the friend I asked Strawtop to recruit in my latest letter. This means there is one more person here who can write in languages I don't understand. Maybe Strawtop can tell you more, or perhaps WernerH will...

One more thing. Start thinking about a music bibliography, Murder. I think Werner will help us. I don't know if Quodlibet is reading these letters, but she is certainly welcome to join. (Have you moved yet? Do you miss me?) And of course the rest of you, though I warn you... I'm talking about *real* music. None of this Yanni shit my grandmother listens to.

-Stiff Lips

From: Johanne
Date: 11 August 1996
Subject: Re: The Flute In Poland

> One more thing. Start thinking about a music bibliography, Murder. I think
> Werner will help us. I don't know if Quodlibet is reading these letters, but
> she is certainly welcome to join.

It happens that I read this one, hoping for musicological mudslinging of some variety. I take it this is a "suggested listening" list that is being proposed?

If so, I immediately suggest the inclusion of:

F. Schubert String Quartet in d minor, D. 810
"Der Tod und das Maedchen"

A. Berg Fuenf Orchesterlieder nach Ansichtskartentexten
von Peter Altenberg, Op. 4

M. Ravel Chansons madecasses

G. Crumb Black Angels: Thirteen Images from the Dark Land
for electric string quartet

T. Tallis Spem in allium

I imagine I shall think of numerous others, but these, for various reasons, strike me as not only important in terms of the can(n)on, loose as it is in my world, but important for their sheer devastating beauty.

> (Have you moved yet?

Yes.

> Do you miss me?

Answer your own question, darlin'. I'm responding to your note. Ought to tell you something.

Quodlibet

From: Werner
Date: 11 August 1996
Subject: Eigenschaften

Hello Listserfs,

after hours of lost sleep spent over the dilemma of how to introduce myself, here is the punchline:

Ich bin ein Mann ohne Eigenschaften

(better known to comics readers as "an invisible man", but I prefer Musil). However, let me contribute something, lest you mistake me for your average hot air balloon.

1. Bach's violin Partita in D minor, BWV 1004
2. Schubert's "Jaegers Abendlied" D 368
3. Schoenberg's "Verklaerte Nacht"
4. Webern's "Drei kleine Stuecke" op. 11 for cello and piano
5. Stravinski's "Elegie" for viola solo
6. Shostakovich's string quartet no. 15 in E-flat Minor, op. 144

And many more works I could add, but I already suggested one more than Quodlibet did (by the way, I rushed to the store to buy the beautiful "Spem in Alium", convinced that it couldn't be about the garlic smell of "allium"). [[Will StrawTop still talk to me after this bad latin joke?]]

Now, let us all hope that there is no ulcer in Motive.

Werner

From: SAGReiss
Date: 11 August 1996
Subject: Matilda and Mr Peterson

negatron complained so bitterly about the nickname FratBoy that I have come up with a new one, Queequeg. This fits the Moby's Dick theme linking Ahab's mutineys to 12000 Virgins. Actually I wanted to use the name of the cabin boy who is gang-ass-raped, but I can't remember it. Whenever I mention this chapter, in which the story is told through song and a complex series of puns, people look at me as if I've been making too-liberal use of the Ricard bottle. I am quite sober. This is my first beer and it's noon and I've just got off work. There IS a homosexual gang-rape in Melville's monsterpiece. Read it carefully or just buy the Penguin Classics edition and RTFN (Read The Fucking Notes). Anyway I propose Queequeg and I win the contest by default, since I am the only participant as yet. Besides, if negatron isn't losing his hair yet, just wait till those FWCo-eds and Nazi-feminists teaching women's studies get a hold of him. This fall is going to be fun. See negatron writhe in pain as he has to write essays on gender constructions in post-anal fiction. Mr Peterson is our new neighbor, a squirrel who lives across from out kitchen window whom Stiff Lips has adopted. Well, she gave him a name. He doesn't do many interesting domestic things. We have yet to watch him mate. What do you want from a red-headed rat with a furry tail? Matilda, whose name I'm sure Colin will appreciate, is the kitten I've asked permission from our landlord to take in. I believe I am witnessing something I won't call Mutiney IV, but rather a schism. Three ostensibly unrelated events lead me to this conclusion. In a kind of comic blunder Werner fucked up his password and gave a wrong e-mail address or some combination of the two. This mistake will be rectified (no pun intended). Allset has told Stiff Lips that she continues to talk to the rapist from the MOO. I'm not sure why she shared this information, which could not but inspire fear and worry in a woman upon whom boredom and lonliness already prey. We have thought and talked about Allset's motives (no pun intended), some of which speculation was rather ugly. The more printable theories suggest the thrill of sexual violence and danger within the relatively harmless environment of the MOO. (As we know, Strawtop, rape is just sex without the usual element of consent, however we may understand that term.) There is no solution to this dilemma, except the rather drastic one of toading Allset from the World and gagging/refusing her. I have neither the wish nor the power to determine or even verify with whom she chooses to spend her time. Her desire to be desired (which I have compared to "the robber's knowledge of the loser's knowledge of the robber" in Poe's Purloined Letter), even her craving for sexual pain, is no weirder or more sick than my otherworldly thirst for whisky. I can't think of anything shrewd or witty to say here. I guess my behavior will be based on how upset Allset makes Stiff Lips. I am not long going to brook the pain that the possibility of an indiscretion provokes in the woman I live with, however unlikely such a mishap may be. Serious concern about e-mail addresses has again been voiced and this time I'm inclined to do something about it. What I am asked to execute is essentially a coup d'etat. If I'm going to protect your e-mail addresses, a request of especial concern as the World grows, what I'll have to do is create a formal, moderated listserv, meaning that everything passes through my 'puter and, contrary to my plan, I control who can post what. That I would exert this power as little as possible doesn't negate the fact that it would be mine. I'll ask my Technical Director to investigate the software possibilities. If it's within my means to do so, I s'pose I shall. If it's very expensive, we could put it to a vote and share the burden if the ayes win.

RECTVM VINVM
Scott Alexander Gabriel Reiss

From: Jenipher
Date: 11 August 1996
Subject: (no subject)

There I sat, pen in hand, doodling as I mooed. Gabe paged me and mentioned he had emailed the World. I waited a while to check it, but then I did. Unfortunate for me, as I had just eaten chocolate cake, made with vinegar and no eggs. Iced with Pulain chocolate, 55% cocoa solids. Now my stomach is tense and hard around chocolate that is fending off acid-attacks.

Gabe wrote:
I am not sure why she shared this information,...

Because Seashell asked me, directly, if I was still in contact with her rapist. After responding that I was, I then explained why. Perhaps, as Colin has noted many times, I rushed out to do battle by myself, without checking my supply lines. I don't actually talk to the rapist, nor had I, until yesterday, cut off all communication. My brilliant rationale for this was that I didn't want him to guess Seashell had told the story of her rape for anyone to read on the web page. I just didn't ever want him to put two and two together. Since I was also sure I couldn't hide my hostility towards him, I rarely responded to his pages; if I did, it was with nothing more than the most cursory greeting and an excuse to avoid further conversation.

Fuck you, Gabe, for attributing such strained motives to my maintaining contact with him. I like bdsm. BDSM is consensual play, often involving pain. It is not rape, nor can rape ever be called bdsm, D/s, s&m, whatever. I like danger, certainly, within reasonable bounds. Consorting with a known rapist is not within reasonable bounds, in my opinion. Seashell disbelieved me when I told her this, asked if the danger really held no appeal for me. I can honestly answer, NO. Being raped holds no appeal for me. Negotiating and engaging in a rape scene with my Dom, on the other hand, holds an enormous amount of appeal for me. I will wait and see if any of you can discern a difference in those two statements.

Allset

From: Terry
Date: 11 August 1996
Subject: Hm...

Sometimes I feel as though you people live lives that are completely foreign to me.

On those occasions, I feel very out-of-place on this mailing list.

Doesn't anyone else share my feelings? Or am I all alone on this tangent of mine?

Well, good thing I'm a confident person.
Teri

From: Nichelle
Date: 11 August 1996
Subject: Mutiney IV

This is Gabriel's title, not mine. We have been fighting about the future of this listserv. We're both pissed right now. I have just done some research. Let's get our definitions straight. A moderator on a listserv is a person who manages the list and who sometimes guides the conversation. From the information I have seen, all formal listservs seem to operate the same way: all e-mail is distributed to everyone who is subscribed to the list. Then it seems, Gaby, that you have misunderstood the term 'moderated listserv', unless any of you can offer more information. There are many kinds of listservs, some of which allow just anyone to subscribe, and others which require permission. In a 'closed list', the list owner has the ability to add people as s/he wishes.

You may be wondering what the fuck this is all about. There has been a lot of concern about privacy lately. What Gabriel was suggesting may not be what you thought he meant by a moderated listserv. He meant that the addresses of the list members would be available only to him, and that everything sent to the list would pass through his computer before it could reach your screen. This means that no member of this listserv would be able to add members without submitting a request to do so to Gabriel. (As far as I can remember, I am the only one who has added a person without asking anyway, but...) This means that no member of this listserv could write a letter to the other members that would be automatically sent out, as it is now.

I don't think that Gabriel would censor the letters written to this list. But I do not think that this is the solution to our privacy problem. He could have set this list up in the very beginning so that no member of the list could send to anyone but him. He chose not to. That is more or less why I have participated. I *did* add somebody to this list. I *have* communicated with other members of this list privately. This is not just Gabriel's list. As it stands, we each have the same amount of power on this listserv. If that changes, I have no further interest in it.

There are other solutions to this problem. I have suggested to Gabriel the possibility of making use of anonymous e-mail services, some of which (I believe) are free. He tells me that the rest of you are all too fucking lazy to lift a finger to do such a thing. I see this as a reasonable solution. I think that if you are really that concerned about people knowing who you are, you will bother to do it. Correct me if I'm wrong, if you're not too fucking lazy to do even that. I do not find his solution acceptable. I am open to other suggestions. I expect to hear them. I am willing to do the research necessary to find the software, the anonymous services, or whatever we need. I am not willing to set up Gabriel's definition of a moderated listserv. That will mean the death of this list.

There's no such thing as paranoia.
RECTVM VINVM.
Fuck you.

-Stiff Lips

From: Murder
Date: 11 August 1996
Subject: Re: The Flute In Poland

Flocalizing, since you asked, is someone's cutesy term for singing and playing the flute at the same time, a popular technique in avant-garde music. It is also useful as a tone development exercise. I tried it for a period of about a month this last year, with only minimal success, and now I only return to it when I am really out of shape or desperate to get a decent sound on a bad day. One of my peers here at school absolutely swears by this technique, however. I have noticed an appreciable difference in her sound since she began the use of this exercise, but I do not know if it was due entirely to that. As for your other comments, I will not care to respond to them until we meet IRL next week. On to more important things: first, I am compiling my own addition to the bibliography, which I will share with Stiff Lips at our aforementioned meeting. The ones that have been suggested are good ones indeed, and I have not heard every one of those pieces. But the ones that I have heard I think will be a good contribution. One thing though: what are the limits of this bibliography? What will be the format? A written description of each piece? This bib will ostensibly present much different problems than the literary bib that Gabe has put on the homepage. Second: I messed up on the date of my arrival in NYC, which will be Wednesday. So I will call you Wednesday night instead of Tuesday, Stiff Lips. When we meet on Friday, bring some cheap manuscript paper if you can. I will scrape the bottoms of my desk drawers for some as well. Third: I have to agree with Stiff Lips in the discussion about this list going to a Listserv format. It would destroy the list. Gabe, you must remember your original intentions for creating this list, as well as the reasons for *not* going to Listserv. I think that you did the right thing in the beginning. I understand your concerns about the expansion of this list, as well as the pressure you are feeling from the other members concerning privacy. But Stiff Lips is right on when she says that the individual members must take responsibility for the concealment of their addresses (if such a service does indeed exist--I have never heard of it). If it does go to Listserv, I will be greatly disappointed, and I too will severely limit, if not curtail completely, my participation on this list (not that that would upset you greatly, Gabe). It all depends on what restrictions on the number of members which you wish to enforce. I personally like the format of this list as is, and I like to know who specifically I am sending e-mail to. It is much more like RL than a Listserv. Now that I have said my two cents, I am off to run 6 miles and then pack for the trip.

Murder

From: Jenipher
Date: 12 August 1996
Subject: Re: Mutiney IV

There is an anonymous email server at pobox.com. To request an anonymous email address, go to http://www.pobox.com/p3/ on the web. The first three months are free. After that it costs $15 US a year. It doesn't take long to register, and you should be able to use your anon address relatively quickly. As of this time, I use mine for posts to the usenet. I continue to see no genuine need to use it for this listserv.

I hope this helps, for those of you worried about privacy issues.

Teri, some days, I feel just like you. When I go home, make my husband dinner, sit down with him to watch tv, have gentle, married sex. When I wake up, wonder what I am doing here, why I am in a marriage with my best friend, whom I love but with whom I am not in love. Most of your emails strike a chord within me, that chord that recalls my Mother and other married couples I know who have never considered open marriages or anything besides raising a family and living happily ever after.

Allset

From: Werner
Date: 12 August 1996
Subject: Re: Mutiney IV

On Mon, 12 Aug 1996, Jenipher wrote:

> There is an anonymous email server at pobox.com. To request an anonymous
> email address, go to http://www.pobox.com/p3/ on the web. The first three
> months are free. After that it costs $15 US a year. It doesn't take long
> to register, and you should be able to use your anon address relatively
> quickly. As of this time, I use mine for posts to the usenet. I continue
> to see no genuine need to use it for this listserv.
>
> I hope this helps, for those of you worried about privacy issues.

Well, no, it does not help too much, and if you (Allset) are using this pobox service to enjoy anonymity on usenet, think twice. Here is an excerpt from their FAQ (see URL above):

>Is it an anonymous remailer?
>
>No. Plenty of anonymous remailers exist; we're not one of them. One of
>the conditions of pobox membership is that you must be
>locatable through every means possible. This is for your protection, and
>for ours. We support free speech. We also support
>accountability. When you use your pobox aliases, please don't pretend to
>be someone else. Anyone could finger you at pobox and
>trace your real account. Also, we will supply your real name to anyone
>who asks for it. If you're looking for an untraceable
>pseudonym, we're sorry, but we can't do it.

pobox.com's "mission" seems to be focused on forwarding issues, not on privacy.

W

From: SAGReiss
Date: 12 August 1996
Subject: Boyz n the list

"Bobby, I'm just gonna get the fuck out of here and go home and pick a fight." "Do what ya gotta do." The restaurant business is so mean that no one thinks that kind of shit is weird. I meant pick a fight with Stiff Lips, but I guess I managed to get everyone involved. What the fuck am I s'posed to do? Some of you want me to forward every fucking message individually to a dozen people. Think again. Some of you want a formal list. Some think everthing's fine and nice and good. For the moment I'm not going to do anything. Anyone who wants to change to an anonymous account is welcome to do so. I don't know anything about them, except that's what people use to send me hate mail. Murder, you bastard, this is not some power play on my part. (negatron, nota bene the smooth hocky metaphor. Colin, Stiff Lips' mother asked us about "Dancing Matilda". Stiff Lips asked me to sing it in the shower. I can't remember all the words. Help?) I was trying to respond to the legitimate concerns of a very paranoid bunch. Fuck you all. If I wanted to destroy the World I don't need to buy some cheap-ass software that I don't even know how to use and won't learn. In part I keep myself cybernetically challenged to keep myself powerless and at the mercy of the geeks and Technical Staff. I can destroy the World by just not writing to it. It doesn't yet stand on its own two feet, let alone walk. One of the things I like about the MOO is that it doesn't only exist in my own mind. I think I even prefer having ArchDeluxe be the Man 'cause negatron and I seem to think so alike. Having someone with whom I often disagree with her hand on the thermonuclear device makes for some controversy and prevents me from getting drunk and toading all of your sorry asses. BTW Queequeg, you get the second write-up for being mean to a gurst/newbie: "Asslick_Guest: 'How do u get a char?' negatron: 'You wait two weeks for the wizzen to decide if they like your name.'" I heard you two got into it last night. Is everyone going to be an asshole until school starts so you can fight with your professors instead of fighting with me? Werner, I thought that was just a typo for the post-MOO song: Spam in allium. Murder, I thought flocalizing was the name for giving head sideways. Beware, Stiff Lips has caught something of my 'confrontational' attitude. She threatened this morning to ask John Gallway: "Hey, asshole, how come you recorded the Mozart concerto?" ArchDeluxe, hey, I'm just a working boy who fell in with the wrong internet crowd. Actually I'm just Stiff Lips' male morph and you're all arguing with a figment of her imagination. BTW we've come up with a new contest. We've got a spread sheet with the daily tabs of each page. So far my poetry, cybersex and negatron are winning. Stiff Lips is very unhappy with this. You all have no fucking guts. Stiff Lips was raped by a man she met on the MOO and fewer than six months later (notice that awsome grammatical move) she sent me that terrible tale after I had e-mailed her with that cruel joke "4x4". Two weeks later she dropped out of school and moved in with me. She agreed to have her e-mail on the web site, indeed insisted on having a more prominent spot than I had originally intended, knowing full well that the man might find it and read it and that he could come on as a guest any day and page her and MOOmail her or send her e-mail. Even the knowledge that he has learned of her move to this state hasn't hurt her resolve. This fucking woman has more courrage than all of your ancestors combined, or as one of the cooks said to one of the gay boys the other day: "She's more of a woman than you'll ever be and more of a man than you'll ever get." Allset, What the fuck is this shit about being married to your best friend but not being in love with your husband? What, you're secretly in love with Queequeg but too shy to tell him? I've got to go for a job interview. That's enough for today Mr Antichrist. Here are my suggestions for the discography: "Too Drunk to Fuck" (The Dead Kennedeys), "Holiday in Berlin" (The Sex Pistols), "White Riot" (The Clash), "I Promise not to Come in Your Mouth" (Frank Zappa), "Fight the Powers that Be" (?) and "I Drink Alone" (George Thoroughgood). Sechs isch ke zahl. Es isch e Hobby.

RECTVM VINVM
Scott Alexander Gabriel Reiss

From: Nichelle
Date: 12 August 1996
Subject: Sperm 'n valium

I got a job. I'm working temporarily for the bookstore for a couple of weeks before school starts. It's the only job I can accept with a clean conscience without knowing whether or not I've been accepted to LeMoyne. I checked out the score for Black Angels to share with Gabriel since I'm fairly sure he's never seen anything like it. Murder, have you got a recording of it? If so, bring me a copy in NYC. I have to be back here on Monday to start training. I don't know when I'll arrive in NYC yet, but I guess I leave sometime on Sun, or very early Mon. I'm going to put on Shosty's Leningrad Symphony to bring luck to Gaby on his interview at this restaurant (it's called Leningrad's).

Werner, your comment last night about not having to live the dangerous lifestyle I live did not go unnoticed. Is this really about danger? People *have* your address, your phone number, your social security number, your e-mail address, your shoe size... When I talk to people who say they aren't willing to give a first name for use on RL MOO I have to wonder... are people *really* so paranoid that they think going by Chris or Mary on the moo is going to bring on a swarm of stalkers, obscene e-mailers, heavy breathing on the phone? You take risks with all human interaction. You take risks driving to work, crossing the street, stepping into an elevator on the 20th floor, having sex with a stranger. Life is risky. Does it mean you should never go out?

I met a man on the moo, just after I began on PMC. We talked, and he asked me a lot of questions. Then after about 30 minutes, he blurted out "My name is Christophere Scarpelli. I live at 1486 Bird Lane, Moutain Valley, Michigan." What's wrong with you people.

-Stiff Lips

From: Nichelle
Date: 12 August 1996
Subject: Undergraduate scum

I got into my college.
Since you can't buy me drinks in person, each of you should please send me $20. Gaby is going to have to get me drunk tonight.

Hey negatron, want to meet on the moo and do our homework together?

-Stiff Lips

From: Laurent
Date: 12 August 1996
Subject: Re: Undergraduate scumeluctable_Modality 0 new messages

CONGRATULATIONS!

From: Terry
Date: 12 August 1996
Subject: Re: Boyz n the list

My, my, my... how quickly word spreads when I've had a disagreement with someone.

I started to go into the details of why negatron and I got into it; but, at the last minute, I deleted it all. The details aren't important. The final outcome is. John, I'm sorry if it seemed as though I was jumping all over you and had an "attitude". I got pissed when I saw that a char had been created, after I had refused it (with Gabe's input) twice. I'm truly sorry... I hate apologizing, but when I'm wrong, I admit it. I was wrong. There were several things I *should* have done; but didn't. *sigh* So, with that in mind, forgive me. It doesn't bother me so much when I argue with Gabe, coz he argues with everyone. But, when I argue with negatron... that bothered me. So, bottom line. I admit I was wrong.

I never claimed to be the best ArchDeluxe in the world... and I'm human just like everyone else. 'Nuf said on that matter.

Allset, I think we should compare notes sometimes on our lives... several remarks you made caught my interest. Look me up on RLMOO sometime.

Murder, where are you???????? I'm looking forward to meeting you online.

Stiff Lips, I'm still applauding all of your hard work on the web pages; you've done an outstanding job!!!!!!!! *big pat on the back* I'm curious as to what software you're using. :)

Laterz,
Teri

From: Terry
Date: 12 August 1996
Subject: Re: Undergraduate scum

On Mon, 12 Aug 1996, Nichelle wrote:

> I got into my college.
> Since you can't buy me drinks in person, each of you should please send me
> $20. Gaby is going to have to get me drunk tonight.
>
> Hey negatron, want to meet on the moo and do our homework together?
>
> -Stiff Lips

Congrats, Nichelle!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

BTW, I went back to work last week (I'm in education), and it always amazes me that I seem to accomplish more when I'm working full time than when I have the whole summer off. My house is cleaner, I cook more, etc. Very strange..

I'll have to put in my two cents worth on music. If anyone likes Andrew Lloyd Webber, the soundtrack to Starlight Express is wonderful! I saw the production of this last fall and was totally blown away. (I like this kind of shit. Heh.) Also, I love piano pieces (I play both piano and keyboards)... I have too many favorites to list all at once. But, right now, I'm listening to Mozart's "Jeunehomme". Yummy. :)

Laterz,
Teri

From: Murder
Date: 12 August 1996
Subject: Leningrad

Whoa, Gabe, hang on. I did not accuse you of playing power trips with this list. Quite the contrary. I'm sorry if my post was misleading. I, like you, want to see the list kept in the same format it is now. I might just have to dare Stiff Lips at the convention to go up to James Galway and do just that--or else she should suggest that she should record K.313 on clarinet. Ooooohh, I shudder at the thought. Galway's "offense" was on a much lesser scale than that crime. Yes, I do have a recording of Black Angels, but only of Images 4-9. I don't know what happened to the first three. But I will bring it if you can bring a walkman, since the motor in mine is dead. Weird that you mention Shosty's Leningrad. I too listened to this piece this morning before I even read your post. Morphogenic fields coming into play? Not that I am a big believer in that kind of stuff, but it is an interesting theory. Here is a meek beginning of my addition to the Bib:

1. Victoria: Requiem Mass
2. Bach: Mass in B-minor
3. Mozart: Symphonia Concertante in E-flat, K. 364
4. Beethoven: Symphony #9 in D-minor, op. 125
5. Brahms: A German Requiem
6. Debussy: Sonata for Flute, Viola, and Harp
7. Mahler: Symphony #9 in D
8. Mahler: Das Lied von der Erde
9. Schoenberg: Pierrot Lunaire
10. Shostakovich: Symphony #4 in C-minor
11. Stravinsky: Symphony of Psalms
12. Bartok: Concerto for Orchestra
13. Cage: 4'33"

Murder

From: Murder
Date: 12 August 1996
Subject: A few more

Oops, I forgot a few:

14. Schoenberg: A survivor from Warsaw, op.46
15. Sibelius: Valse Triste
16. Schubert: Symphony #5 in B-flat
17. Bernstein: Symphony #2 "The Age of Anxiety"

Murder

From: Murder
Date: 13 August 1996
Subject: I'm off to see....

This is my final message before my trip. Immediately after hitting Ctrl X to send this I am going to drive back to Spokane and catch a plane in the morning. Teri, I will get on the MOO as soon as I can; I have not had much time lately for anything other than getting all my stuff squared away for this trip. My first appearance on the MOO will not be before the 21st. Allset, I wanted to send you a personal message, but the mail bounced (concerned about privacy, huh?!) and I don't have time to resend it today, so I will have to do it when I get back. If you want, you can send me your address privately and I will make every effort to send my message as soon as I can. I hunted down the Black Angels this morning, so we're set to go, Stiff Lips. I will call you tomorrow night when I get settled in.

Murder

From: SAGReiss
Date: 13 August 1996
Subject: Laurent's ami

>Date: Tue, 13 Aug 1996 19:34:37 PDT
>From: SAGReiss@lambda.moo.mud.org
>Subject: LambdaMOO Message(s) 28
>
>Message 28:
>Date: Tue Aug 13 16:01:33 1996 PDT
>From: Kudo
>To: SAGReiss
>Subject: hello
>
>I hear from le_marquis that your girlfriend/FWB/etc is going to the National
>Flute Convention. I shall be flying there tomorrow(wed) morning to stalk her.
>Well, maybe I'm just going to go because I want to blow up the bunch of
>persons obsessed with the ultimate phallic instrument. Okay, that's probably
>a lie. Actually, I'm going because I'm a flutist/flautician/flautist and I
>have a schoolmate who's in the National High School Flute Soloist Competition
>there. So, in truth, I will be there to attend the master classes, visit with
>old and new teachers, play a bit, socialise, and perhaps to buy a piccolo.
>I'm sure you care. All in all, I was quite surprised to hear that the babe
>would be there, and would be estatic to say 'hi' whilst I'm there.
>And that's the truth,
>-ku do
>--------------------------

RECTVM VINVM
Scott Alexander Gabriel Reiss

From: SAGReiss
Date: 13 August 1996
Subject: Laurent's ami II

Laurent, what the fuck is wrong with your dumb ass? Right in the middle of a serious fight about privacy and confidentiality on the listserv you give out information on the whereabouts and hotel address of Stiff Lips to some total fucking stranger who is obviously very unstable or has a very bad sense of humour? You fucking scumbag. I will hold my anger until you try to come up with some reasonable excuse before I toad you from the list and ask that you be toaded from RL MOO with extreme prejudice. Is this your idea of a joke? Stiff Lips will probably not be in attendance at this fucking conference. I'm awfully glad I've never told you much else about us. I knew we would have to deal with some psychos, but I didn't think it would work like this. I agree with Allset that disputes/arbitration is not the way to deal with evil cunts and motherfuckers. On the other hand I hope that some members of this list will have the fucking guts to send some very nasty MOOmail to laurent/le_marquis and kudo. SAGReiss [to laurent]: Vas te faire enculer.

RECTVM VINVM
Scott Alexander Gabriel Reiss

From: Laurent
Date: 14 August 1996
Subject: hey!

woo..me?toaded?..actually i have never been toaded from any of the MOOs i have ever been on..do you think it hurts?

come on gabe..i was speaking with this old friend of mine who happened to go to the same social event motive/nichelle/stiff lips is attending..wanna kill me for noticing the coincidence..well please do..i hope you translate some nice poems to pronounce on my MOOexecution..maybe something russian..i know you do not speak russian but i trust your immense genius to find the souls of the poems from between the lines of cyrillic characters..

well btw..unless i am wrong, isn't stiff lips the one who is supposed to be angry at me for disclosing a bit of her privacy? stiff lips..was it such a crime to tell my friend rebecca that you are going to the same flute convention she does? if you are will you pronounce the sentence of my beheading?

bon ben salut,

laurent

From: Nichelle
Date: 14 August 1996
Subject: beheading

Actually, I'm sentencing you to be keelhauled, once Ahab gets home. Laurent, you need to tell me a few things. Did you tell this person my real name? My moo name? What about Murder? Yes, I'm very angry. Perhaps you just have seriously bad taste in friends. Perhaps your friend has a terrible and twisted sense of humor. Yes, this affects Gabriel too. We live together. I came here to get away from a psycho. Please don't invite anymore psychos into my life. I'm trying to cut back. Yes, I think it's wrong to tell your friend rebecca that she could look me up/stalk me at this flute convention. And it was also wrong of your friend rebecca to send that letter to Gabriel's character. I do not wish to put my faith in your apparently very poor judgment of character. Those decisions are mine to make. This has nothing to do with Gabriel's immense genius. This is about your bad decision and breach of faith.

-Stiff Lips

From: Laurent
Date: 14 August 1996
Subject: Re: beheading

i just told her your mooname..and nothing else..actually i do not know your real name..never invited her into your life just thought she could moomail to let you make that judgement

getting ready for keelhauling, as soon as he discovers what that word means

laurent

From: Nichelle
Date: 14 August 1996
Subject: keelhauling

I think the basic technique for keelhauling is this: you tie one end of a long rope to the offender, the other to the stern (back) of a ship. Then the person is thrown off the bow (front) and dragged along the bottom of the ship, which is usually covered with barnacles, until he surfaces on the other side. I'm not sure if he is then taken back into the ship, or if they tow him around back there for a while, or just cut the rope...

RECTVM VINVM
Scott Alexander Gabriel Reiss

From: Nichelle
Date: 14 August 1996
Subject: identity crisis

I have to remember to leave off that signature. That definition was from me.

-Stiff Lips

From: Laurent
Date: 14 August 1996
Subject: Re: identity crisis

well we haven't a word for that torture in french..that must be a typical anglosaxon delight..

well i'll try to survive the keelhauling to try and be better last time..

laurent

From: SAGReiss
Date: 14 August 1996
Subject: 5 cents an hour

I s'pose I could be happy not to get fired and to get a raise at all, but I'm not. That's a fucking disgrace. At about thirty-two hours a week, that's a dollar sixty a week, eighty-three dollars and twenty cents a year. Maybe I'll just make a tax-deductable donation of that sum to the Liberterian Party or the Cyberlibertine Club. Yes, Werner I smoked Gitanes for a decade. I've decided to rename negatron's text: "Kewl pics of my gf and her dog" or maybe "Kewl pics of my dog and his gf". No one will ever go to your fucking page. I'll win. Besides, why the fuck did I ever make up such a telegenetic title? I'm so fucking bad at the phone. How could I mistake "Lemon Grass" for "Lenningrad's"? Note the brilliant allusion to 12000 Virgins. We're going to use last night's chat for the sample MOO text. That means we get to make up stupid names for all of you. Now I see what negatron got so pissed about. Killjoy is a member of his ID stable. That was yesterday afternoon. I'm so tired. This list/web/moo shit is killing me, taking the lifeblood from me, has already trashed my sex life. negatron: "Hello." SAGReiss: "John, this is Gabriel. Someone is building shit on the MOO." negatron: "How the fuck did you get my number?" SAGReiss: "It's in the phone book, John." I'm going to try to be brief and then go seek solace onna MOO or in bed in Stiff Lips' arms. Teri, why is someone called Chip (which is a crime enough in my eyes, as names go) building stupid shit on RL MOO? I was polite, at least at first. Asked him if he knew we didn't allow that. He said he had read the texts. I gave him a fair opportunity to destroy what he had built. He chose not to take advantage of it. Enough said. I think you should reconsider putting the MOO on your server. Think of the advantages: more data-base flexibility, web space for RL MOOers to make their home pages, increased integration of the list and the web and the MOO... We don't owe the current server anything, except his monthly fee. He hasn't done us any special favors. He doesn't even use his real fucking name on RL MOO. Please think this over. Although you would have been angry at the bloodlust which swallowed Chip last night (partly because I was so fucking mad at Stiff Lips' asshole father and at laurent and Rebecca), you would have loved the reaction in Purgatorio. People realize that something different is going on, something well real. It took a lot of cold blood on John's part (possibly because he hadn't drunk enough whisky) (He has a slow, soft-pitched, marajuana-laden Kanadian accent.) not to give in to the amok of the frenzied mob. Laurent, don't you see how receiving such a letter from an unidentified stranger might upset Stiff Lips? I think you showed bad judgement and I think your friend has a very poor-taste sense of humour. I wouldn't have thought twice about hate mail to me. I've gotten it before. But threatening letters to Stiff Lips? To all members of this list, please be careful to respect other members' privacy. This list depends, for its very existence, on trust, so that even members less outspoken than I feel comfortable writing the details of their daily lives, which is where literature comes from, the difference between our daily life and the telling of it. As Mitterand said: "La Revolution permanente."

RECTVM VINVM
Scott Alexander Gabriel Reiss

From: Laurent
Date: 15 August 1996
Subject: Re: 5 cents an hour

Mitterrand said "la revolution permanente"..??'t was Trotsky in my memories and i did not see Mitterrand as a Trotskyist..Mitterrand said "changer la vie" though..which could have been a good conclusion to your letter..

laurent

From: Terry
Date: 15 August 1996
Subject: Re: 5 cents an hour

Gabe, Chip is his real name and he did NOT know he couldn't build when he first logged on and did. After he settled into his *home*, he began reading the help files and realized that he'd found an obvious bug (the ability to build, to the which John and I thought we'd disabled). Chip was waiting on me to log back on. Why would he @recycle because you asked him to? He didn't know you. He felt attacked by those involved; and understandably so. He did exactly what I would have done; become very defensive and stubborn. John told me himself that Chip reacted in a way similar to what he probably would have done. And John explained to you, Gabe, about it being OUR fault that he was able to build. Now, Chip has been reinstated as a char on RLMOO. And I'm tired of hearing all the bitching about him. What really pisses me off is that his attitude is no different than what I've seen from you on MOO. In the beginning, the idea was to not toad anyone on RLMOO for any reason; other than hacking at the db. But, since people seem to be stepping on your toes, I've heard you wanting to toad a couple of players. Well, it's not gonna happen. @gag them. Remember??? Don't go blaming Chip for his reaction on RLMOO. To do so would be so hypocritical. And remember... it IS Real Life MOO. If this pisses you off, so be it. I'm tired of this shit. RLMOO doesn't revolve around Gabe. Or Teri. Or John. Or anyone. It's a team effort and it seems I'm reminded often of our theme and etc. Now it's my turn to remind.

As for putting RLMOO on my machine and server, I don't think I can. I'm getting a new machine and server at work. If I got caught with contraband on the system, I could get in severe trouble. Not worth the risk; I've put in 20 years at that job.

As for the wizards (the one who rents us server space) name not being his real life name... where did you get that idea??? Our rules state that it has to be a close approximation. We agreed that any part of their real name could be used. First, middle, or last; or any combination thereof. Again, Gabe, you go bitching about stuff you don't know all of the story to. Geez, get the right info before you express your opinion.

To Laurent: I see nothing wrong with giving your friend the MOOname of Stiff Lips. Then letting Stiff Lips determine whether to have rl contact or not. BUT, it was in very poor taste of your friend to send the mail. I don't care if she has the best sense of humor in the world, proper etiquette would not allow for that. Were it not for Stiff Lips background, the mail (if it were in jest) might have been seen in a different light. But, knowing what we do, I saw no humor in it.

A pet peeve of mine: People who express their opinions in any manner that they see fit bitching out others who do the same; simply because he/she doesn't like what's being said or done. Well, maturity becomes a factor here.

I made up my mind a few weeks ago to keep my comments to myself, because I hate arguing with Gabe. Or anyone, for that matter. But, I've decided to hell with that. I'm entitled to my opinion and I think I express it in a much nicer way than is usually given to me. So, no apologies for what I think, Gabe. You make no concessions for me; I now no longer will make any for you. And to whoever doesn't like what I've said, well fuck you.

Tired of getting hassled because of the friends I choose,
Teri

From: Werner
Date: 15 August 1996
Subject: waltzing Matilda

Waltzing Matilda

Once a jolly swagman camped by a Billabong
Under the shade of a Coolabah tree
And he sang as he watched and waited till his billy boiled
"Who'11 come a-waltzing Matilda with me?"

Down come a jumbuck to drink at the water hole
Up jumped a swagman and grabbed him in glee
And he sang as he stowed him away in his tucker bag
"You'll come a-waltzing Matilda with me'".

Up rode the Squatter a riding his thoroughbred
Up rode the Trooper- one, two, three
"Where's thst jumbuck you've got in your tucker bag?",
"You'11 come a-waltzing Matiltda with me"

But the swagman he up and jumped in the water hole
Drowning himself by the Coolabah tree,
And his ghost may be heard as it sings in the Billabong,
"Who'll come a-waltzing Matilda with me?"

A.B. Paterson
Reproduced from 'Saltbush Bill J.P. and Other Verses', published in 1917.

From: SAGReiss
Date: 15 August 1996
Subject: No supper

You are absolutely right, ArchDeluxe, to send me to bed with no supper. The keelhauling next time. As I said to a number of people yesterday on the MOO, Tuesday was just a Comedy of bad luck. We were both in a foul mood because of Stiff Lips' father goading her. The only good points of the visit were his promise to buy her a 'puter and the pleasure I took in watching a man who wanted to eat roast beef and mashed potatoes eating a quiche loraine and salad with basil vinaigrette and peaches and berries flambees. His exhaulted praise of my cooking skills was in direct proportion to his dislike of the fare. Afterwards just to check I asked Stiff Lips: "He hated it, didn't he?" She said that he did. Rebecca's letter meant no harm. Written to almost anyone else, it would have been quite innocuous. Written to someone who has been stalked, and worse, on several occasions, who has received letters written in blood, on what was already a bad day, it obviously did not look like a joke. Having just received that very disturbing missive, we got on RL. That is the context of the unfortunate affaire Chip. Again luck was not on our side. Had you discovered the accident, it could have been cleared up without so much trouble. The mistake is my own. Not knowing exactly what the data base is, hacking ("unauthorized programming") is exactly what I thought he was doing. Obviously it is not his fault if he was simply able to do what he does on every other MOO. It is our fault for not thinking to test that. I shall apologize to Chip whenever I see him. Then I'll gag him. While I'm at it I should also apologize to laurent. Je suis desole, mon ami. J'ai reagi sur le coup, de facon exageree. Je crois que tu as commis une erreur de jugement, mais ca n'excuse pas mon invective. These are trying times. Yesterday, for the first time since she told me his name, I was in a room with the man who raped Stiff Lips. It was a very weird moment. I can only imagine what she must feel like when he shows up. We all have to live with our past, the stress of daily life and the burdons we have to bear. Stiff Lips got a letter recently from an old friend which read in part: "We saw 'Phenomenone' (spell??) Suday." She asked: "Why the fuck doesn't she just look it up?" I pointed out that I frequently use this technique, metatext, to draw the reader's attention to the fact that a literary representation of the world is not the same thing as the world. Such a technique (other examples are the parenthetical notes in a recent letter of mine: "nota bene the smooth hocky [sic] metaphor" and "notice that awesome grammatical move") dispells the illusion of reality which the author has created. It reminds the reader that this is just a text. I guess what I'm trying to say is that some of what I write here is intentionally laden with rhetoric and hyperbole. That's part of my style. Some of the events are slightly rearranged for the sake of the tale. The truth is that there is a spectrum that goes from RL to the telephone to e-mail to MOO with diminishing doses of reality. My goal has been to increase the dose of reality in the MOO. I don't really think RL and VR are exactly the same thing. In the final analysis I would defend the claim that the man sitting at the keyboard is NOT the narrator of this letter. The I of a letter fulfills a specific literary function. No human being can ever be reduced to such an esthetic role. Je est un autre.

RECTVM VINVM
Scott Alexander Gabriel Reiss

From: Terry
Date: 15 August 1996
Subject: Re: No supper

Gabe, I must say I'm impressed.

For you to admit to the very things that I had pointed out in my Email causes me to redirect my thoughts of you. It takes a strong man/woman to admit when he/she is wrong. I hate making mistakes; but will admit when I'm wrong (just did with John last week).

Eating crow doesn't usually taste good... so, I try to serve mine up as "Crow Under Glass". Amazing how the outlook on something can make it go down much easier. :)

Gotta get back to work, no MOO windows open for me for several hours...
Teri

From: Laurent
Date: 15 August 1996
Subject: Re: No supper

WOW!!apologies from gabe..I did not expect so much.. Not that i really like the public keelhauling..but well..becca can be a nasty kid at her own moments and she really ate her foot and even part of the leg this time..i guess knowing gabe's sarcasms she must have thought stiff-lips would not have minded a really bad joke.. I can tell you when she gets back from New York she ain't gonna get no desserts for weeks...and she will have to help me heal the scars from the keelhauling..

sorry to hear you had that much of a bad day..mine are really cool and easy these days..Paris in August is completely empty..all of my friends have left town...gotta run down 3 blocks to find a boulangerie...but the few people who stay are really nice to balance for the desertification of town which is mostly abandoned to ugly tourist busses..

my roommate's girlfriend just dyed her pussy pink (the hair i mean) , and she showed it to me the day after he left for 2 weeks in Zimbabwe..it looks really cute but..would any of you girls shoe your pubic hair to your lover's best friend?Should I let hair dye my pubic hair purple?In case you think i should do you have any idea of a really non erotic thing to think about while you have a cute woman brushing your pubic hair?

Sorry to be trivial..just wanted to try and escape a bit from the ontological disarray..

bisous

laurent

From: SAGReiss
Date: 16 August 1996
Subject: Pink Matilda

I can just imagine laurent, the Eurostud of the Sex Room, carefully putting on his reading glasses for an up-close, scientifically detached look at his best friend's gf's newly-dyed-pink pussy. Does it do tricks? Did she make you put on surgical gloves to check out the texture? What exactly is the html code for the colour? I'm sure all of our readers must be asking themselves these same, and other, burning questions. Please be forthcoming (Um, may I rephrase that?) in providing all of the necessary mathematical data. This is, after all, a research project. Stiff Lips and negatron have both registered as sophmores (We all know what that means, right?) and they're taking Computer Science 101 and Women's Studies 069 and this is their interDISCIPLINary homework. I ask you all please to give us any relevant input on this matter. Please include full-colour GIFs and JPEGs.

RECTVM VINVM
Scott Alexander Gabriel Reiss

From: SAGReiss
Date: 16 August 1996
Subject: ¿Dónde está la Comecabra?

A fortnight ago, when I put Comecabra’s text on the World, I hesitated about the accent, clearly indicated in my Random House Dictionary for the adverb (in this case interrogative, but some might call it a pronoun). I asked, of all people, Canis_Lupus about it. He called me all kinds of names. He said: “I’ve been speaking Spanish for thirty years.” “There’s no such word [as dónde].” “You can’t even speak Spanish,” which of course I readily admitted, which is why I had asked him in the first place. I had no faith in Random House, of course, but I also saw the form in one of Stiff Lips’ books by Pablo Neruda. Basically, making the syntactic distinction orthographically manifest just made sense to me. It felt right, and I trust my instincts about language even if I don’t know the tongue. We berated eachother for a week or more and today I went to the library and looked it up. I quote from the Real Academia’s Diccionario: “Se emplea siempre, como interrogativo, con acento fonético y ortográfico.” I got on Lambda and asked Canis_Lupus when he was going to change his name to SAGReiss_is_always_right. His reaction was typical of MOOers: “Who gives a fuck, you asshole?” I cannot imagine being so apallingly wrong. I don’t mean making a mistake, but insisting so heavily on one’s God-like knowledge of a subject so close to one’s identity, and being flat-out wrong. Having a Gringo who can’t even speak Spanish tell a Latino how the language is written in the Castillian dialect, I would cut my throat if that happened to me. I could not bear to live being wrong. Not about something so basic and so important. Shiiit, I would cut my throat if I made a mistake like that about French. How do these terminal idiots live? How can they get college diploma’s? How can they sleep? Why do they exist?

RECTVM VINVM
Scott Alexander Gabriel Reiss

From: Nichelle
Date: 16 August 1996
Subject: A map of RL MOO

Have a look at the site and click on "A map of RL MOO". I've put up a map with the room descriptions and some very beautiful pictures.

-Stiff Lips

From: Kathy
Date: 18 August 1996
Subject: (no subect)

I was trying to find the point beyond the pain. The point where the pain is secondary to the amorphous something that you feel in the center of the storm. When I used to Submit, I would find that place... that focus ... fairly quickly most of the time. But this was something I wasn't expecting. Something I couldn't deal with in any rational way. I reached inside of me and tried to drag the dreck of from the pit of my stomach and make it come out of me in great sobbing tears or gasps, but what I discovered was that there was too much dreck to bring it all out and deal with it. It was just stuck in there where I could feel it all the time. It moved with me and stayed with me. Even when I slept, I could feel that pain there like a ball gnawing away at my insides. I couldn't eat. I couldn't sleep. It had been at least four days since I'd done either.

I tried dancing. That's the catharsis. I dance until I no longer hear the music, I just sense it in my bones; it becomes part of me. I went to a concert and danced until my feet were numb and then collapsed into a ball in the corner crying until someone drove me home. And it didn't help.

So I tried to write. Didn't help. Writing always helps. My writing is the most important thing in the world to me, and so when the second most important thing in the world to me walked out, I figured I would take comfort in the writing. Maybe that's what I'm trying to do now.

I quit smoking about 7 months ago. Except for two minor slidebacks of a couple days each, I've been really good about it. Until Tuesday. Then I started again and I'm up to half a pack a day. I know I'd smoke even more if my office were smoke friendly. I guess I'm glad it's not.

What do you do when, after four years, you suddenly find yourself on your own without the person who said he wanted to marry you? Marriage... heh. On Sunday he was talking about the marriage being in April, and on Tuesday he told me he was in love with another woman. We'd just left dinner. Dinner with his boss & his boss' wife and their friends. At dinner I'd teased him about spending the night at his friend Susan's house on Friday night and he jokingly got on the offensive saying nothing had happened and he would never cheat on me. Then, on the train on the way home, he told me that he was in love with her. But no, nothing had happened. Isn't falling in love something?

He went with me to the club. And in a lull between songs he screamed at me, "Leave me the fuck alone, bitch." Then he walked out, leaving me there. Jason, some random guy from the club, came up and tried to make me laugh. The lead singer from the band that was playing even gave me a hug to make me feel better. They told me I was quite a catch and that this "loser" just didn't know a good thing when he saw one. I like to try and tell myself that. Jason also said that the thing that sucked was that the jerk had "scarred" me. But I don't think I'm scarred really. I mean, I'm not going to give up on guys, and I'm not going to stop trusting people. Just because one emotionally immature boy can't be stable is no reason for me to give up on my whole life. I'm beautiful, intelligent, fun, adventurous, sexy, creative and bright. I know there will be others for me.

But for now the pain is so overwhelming that I feel myself acting irrationally and out of misery. I went to look at apartments today. Nice apartments. I can afford them now finally. And I was in no emotional state to choose one. I think I picked a good one, but I'm not even sure. All I could think about was going home and packing up my stuff and having to sleep in the same place as him for another two weeks before I could leave.

I was ironing a shirt this morning, and I suddenly saw a spot on it. I realized that I just didn't care, and I suddenly broke into tears.

When I was first learning the ropes as a Dom (no pun intended), I learned that something you have to be able to do as a Dom is be willing to let go of your Submissive. When a Submissive comes to you and enters into a relationship, the Submissive is expected to follow certain guidelines and rules, and if you are afraid to leave them if they REALLY fuck up, then they can top you from below, and you're no longer the strong Dom they wanted, and they end up leaving you anyway because you're no longer the Dom they wanted and needed. I tried to keep that in mind as I did the practical things I needed to do now that this relationship is over. But this isn't a bdsm relationship, this is a relationship of equals. I'm not sure how to handle it. I know that at some point I will be over him.

I just wish I could get to that point now.

I'm rambling. I'll stop. I guess I just wanted to get it off of my chest and share. Eric told me that you have to keep sharing and repeating to people, "I'll be okay" because the more you do that, the weaker the pain becomes, and the more quickly it'll actually be true and you will be okay.

Four years.... That's a long time. I guess it's going to be a long time in getting over him.

What an introduction. I'm Kathy. Most of you know me as Opal. You'll notice, though, that on relevant MOOs, my name is now Kathy. Somehow Opal just seems no longer appropriate...

From: Nichelle
Date: 18 August 1996
Subject: the new pussy

I don't write very good letters, at least not usually, but at least I write something. I'm not sure I understand what you are all doing here. I think at least some of you read this as a substitute for reading the tabloids, and a few others read this because you want to keep an eye on your MOO buddies, and not very many of you are here because you like to write letters, though I can't really complain because I haven't written very many letters myself lately. I've been getting ready for school, doing my reading for Bitterness 104, beginning with Bukowski. The only prerequisite was Humility 100, which I started in mid-March. I'm going to go read some more. Gaby will be home soon anyway, and either he'll get online and fight with the assholes on Lambda or he'll go to sleep. Doesn't matter, I'm just undergraduate scum who hasn't read the books he has read and can't speak the languages he can speak. I'm some lukewarm housewife who distracts him from his work. And you all think he's got a gold-plated brain and a dick the size of Manhattan. You don't understand- this thing only works when you say something, not just react to Gabriel. Despite the melodrama in Opal's letter, I respect that she isn't reacting to another letter. I feel like my job on this list is to beg for e-mail. Are you intimidated? Are you afraid fo criticism? Yes, if you write to this list you will be criticized. The other day at the table, Gaby told me that my letter that morning wasn't very good. But... why are you here if you don't write?

From: SAGReiss
Date: 18 August 1996
Subject: Black tie, white gloves

Criticism? I'm a little too tired to criticize anyone but my bosses right now. My back is throbbing, as is my neck, shoulders, hips, knees, elboes wrists and ankles. My feet hurt. I would try to think of a part of the body which isn't in pain, but my brain is too weak and weary to bother. We had a banquet dinner for 150 assholes who think that medieval cannon law is something interesting to make jokes about over cocktails. I don't mind doing a clown's job, but I don't really like wearing his uniform. Stiff Lips thought I looked very handsome in my tuxedo shirt with studs and a black bow tie. I can't imagine what she would have said had she seen me with the Uncle Tom white gloves. They weren't white for long, of course. They wore the shades of every course and wine I served. Two odd moments during the dinner. When my first table arrived I thought I heard the sounds of French and said: "Bonsoir, Messieursdames." The whole table turned around as one and stared at me. I thought: "What the fuck? Was I halucinating? Are these really some kiwi French-hating Nazis?" I babbled: "I'm sorry. I thought... Vous parlez francais. Excuse me." Turned out they were just amazed that a waiter-type Amerikan asshole can speak better French than their illustrious colleagues. One of the dudes was from Strasbourg and joked: "Vous avez appris a parler notre petit dialecte?" I just answered: "Mir kenne au Elsasisch rede." It was a little weird. The other odd thing was when we were clearing and they were still milling about. I was carrying one of those monster fifty-pound trays and saw two girls, one of whom had an unlit cigarette in her hand. I slowed to a stop, reached into my pocket, pulled out my lighter and lit her cigarette. The other girl burst out laughing: "Have I done something wrong?" "No I just thought that was so funny. It was beautiful." Lady, this is my fucking job. If the medievalist pudenda think that chivalry is dead, ou sont les neiges d'antan? Anyway I worked a split shift 6 to 2 and 5 to 11:30 and 6 to 2:30 today. I don't give a fuck. We're into OT, boys and girls, and I've got nine and a half hours @$13.50. (See, assholes, I can write 'puter code. You just put in a lot of meaningless punctuation and voila.) About Opal's letter. While the "melodrama" (literally black action for those of you in the TV audience) is an obviously just and fair criticism, I'll try to make mine constructive. At the end you say something about the name Opal no longer being appropriate, but we don't learn why... I'm guessing that it's the melo-connection, Blackbriar and a black stone, but I don't know. Forget your thoughts and emotions and tell the fucking tale.

RECTVM VINVM
Scott Alexander Gabriel Reiss

From: Kathy
Date: 18 August 1996
Subject: Re: Black tie, white gloves

> code. You just put in a lot of meaningless punctuation and voila.) About
> Opal's letter. While the "melodrama" (literally black action for those of
> you in the TV audience) is an obviously just and fair criticism, I'll try to
> make mine constructive. At the end you say something about the name Opal no
> longer being appropriate, but we don't learn why... I'm guessing that it's
> the melo-connection, Blackbriar and a black stone, but I don't know. Forget
> your thoughts and emotions and tell the fucking tale.

It's hard to be anything other than melodramatic when you feel like your heart is being yanked out of your body. But cest la vie. I write the way I'm feeling. And I never claimed I wasn't melodramatic just like some of you wouldn't dare claim not to be pretentious or pompous or verbose.

Why not Opal anymore? For a lot of people the phrase "Opal and Blackbriar" is really just one word. I was Opal before Seth, sure, but we sort of became coagulated during the last four years. If I'm on as Opal, people page me or ask me about Blackbriar or want to know how I am about the breakup and etc... If someone sees "Kathy" in their friends lists or whatever they are, then they are more likely to stop and think of me as not just an extension of the infamous Mr.Blackbriar.

Hey Colin, want some juicy gossip? *chuckles* Just kidding. I wish I had some for you.

--
"You can always pull out if you like it too much..." Garbage

From: Terry
Date: 18 August 1996
Subject: Re: the new pussy

On Sun, 18 Aug 1996, Nichelle wrote:

> And you all think he's got a gold-plated brain and a dick the size of
> Manhattan.

Um, I never thought Gabe had a gold-plated brain or a dick the size of Manhattan. :)

> Are you intimidated? Are you afraid fo criticism? Yes, if you
> write to this list you will be criticized. The other day at the table, Gaby
> told me that my letter that morning wasn't very good. But... why are you
> here if you don't write?

No, no, I know I'll be criticized, I like Nichelle's letters (they're refreshing), and I'm here to read this mail and respond when I have the time and/or feel the urge. :)

BTW: I'm sending this via my new 33.6 modem. Heh. I love speed.

Catch ya'll later,
Teri

From: Jenipher
Date: 19 August 1996
Subject: Re: your mail

I have just returned from London to a whole slew of email messages, from both this listserv and the bdsm listserv I read. I was quite pleased to see Kathy finally sent mail. I was, as usual, disappointed in the response. Melodrama -- would that be defined as Kathy pouring her feelings out to us in the hopes that doing so will somehow help her, or would that be defined as ArchDeluxe, Gabe, John, etc., fighting over a virtual space as if it were real. Yeah, yeah, REAL LIFE MOO. Whatever. Kathy is having a real life crisis right now. Personally, I am about ready to scream a little more at Seth on lambda, but he isn't logged on right now. I suppose I had my say Wednesday. I really tried not to use the words hypocrite or undeserving -too- much.

London was incredible. Stuffed chicken breast, deep dish pizza, swordfish served with roasted red, yellow and green bell peppers, spicy chicken wings, museums, Impressionists, Kandinsky, Mondrian, Rothko, Tower of London, Trafalger Square, Miss Saigon, Stephen Sondheim's Passion, Independence Day (Yes, ID4), and the Rock. And Liebestod, who met us at 10 a.m. every day and dropped us off at 1 a.m. every night. He was our guide, friend, entertainment, and my wannabe-top. I saw pain in his eyes every time he glanced at the bracelet that I wear for Kathy, until such time as she removes it. I found leather cuffs at a sex shop, along with a gorgeous black leather riding crop. Now all I need is someone willing to hit me with it until the blood flows. Kathy, I wish I was with you right now, but I know it would be the worst possible time for me to show up. I will bide my time, as usual.

I am so tired, still feeling the effect of the antihistamine I have to take so I don't get sick on the plane. So, yes, this rambles. No, I have no point. I have a thousand points. If you, and you know who you are, use Kathy's story to hurt anyone on lambda, I will use everything I have to get you back (in the revenge sense.) Oh, as you would say, this isn't a threat.

The only problem with leather cuffs is, they aren't handcuffs. They don't lock. I can take them off myself. I found police handcuffs as well, but my husband looked sort of horrified when I held them up, with that questioning, would you ever use these on me?, look. So I have leather that doesn't leave pretty, deep red welts in my wrists. Welts that last for days, holding me in that submissive space where nothing matters but the hurt inside. Daddy, I want to hurt you for what you have done to me. But when I come home at Christmas, that Daddy is gone, replaced by an overweight chain-smoker who looks at me as though he is so proud of me he could burst. Where is the pig that forced me to undress daily so he could check to see if his baby girl had pubic hair yet? The one who came in the bathroom nine mornings out of ten to take a piss and said, "If you don't look, I won't."? I never looked, but he did, every time. There was a flash of him a few years ago, just after I got married. I was in my bra and panties, drying my hair. He knocked on the bedroom door ( which has no lock) and asked if he could come in. I grabbed a robe, threw it around me, and said, sure. There was rage in his eyes as he watched me fumbling to tie the robe shut. As if I had no right to hide myself from him. I wonder if he fucked me when I was nine. Will I ever know? Hypnosis terrifies me, being in a place I can't escape, finding memories I will never be able to repress again. Maybe someday, when my sisters have left my father's house, I will do it. Have any of you had these experiences? Is it normal for a father to look at his daughter naked until she finally escapes by going off to college? How much of myself is his? It would be easier to let go, yes, Daddy, I am yours. You created me, you raised me, you used me. Then I could forget. Colin, tell me why forgetting is wrong. I never understood.

WernerH, don't play with my words, twist them to make them fit your psycho bitch from hell, 'typically not the voice of reason', image of me. Hell, are you even on this listserv? I hope so. You really pissed me off the other day. Je ne comprends pas.

Hey Gabe, will you forward this mail to me, si'l vous plait? Pine is weird; it replies to everyone but me.

Randomness is the soul of genius. I just made that up.

Allset

From: Terry
Date: 19 August 1996
Subject: Re: your mail

OHMYGOD, as I read the email from Allset, I wanted to cry. *huge hug*

Once again, I'm soooooo thankful that I was raised in a loving, caring, environment with healthy relationships with Mom and Dad... and Sis, too.

It's very hard for me to understand what you ladies go through; simply because I've not experienced it and can't fathom it. Yet, I admire your determination to sift through the ashes and perservere in life. That takes guts. Rest assured, however, that I do care how each of you are doing irl... I may not write much (I'm a horrid writer); I'm just too busy irl.

Talk to you later,
Teri

From: Laurent
Date: 19 August 1996
Subject: Re: the new pussy

well what a strange mix of people on this planet and on this very virtual corner Gabe built for us on the net...mister gabe, flogging the US and american culture as much as he can, and lives on a mix of french poems and chat in the alsatian dialects with people who are alsatian but have forgotten about their dialect alltogether,and on the other side Allset, who still does not speak french after two years at the border between switzerland and french. If gabe had been there he would already speak french and this strange dialect they speak somewhere in switzerland, suisse romanche. Allset who lives a few kilometers away from the best restaurants in the world and tells us about food when she goes to...england...
(You have to know that the association of the words 'angleterre' and 'cuisine' is among the most improbable in a french mouth)

I am not making fun or Allset, nor of Gabe, just being amazed at the diversity we encounter them, and wondering what i am doing here, speaking with all these people who are as estranged in their lives as i am in mine..why am i not just speaking about the future of combinatorics on words after the death of Marcel-Paul Schuetzenberger with another normalien, or getting rich making a computer consultancy, why do i speak english and read all these english books.. hmm well i guess i just like being a little bit outside of the slot where i should be..

My previous lover had been thru worse than you can think of in her relationships with men...she let me discover these awful and so intense feelings that arise when sex and power get knotted together..this strange boundary between pleasure and pain..so allset's letters and stiff lips's story on the web did not come to an ear that was completely stranger to these regions..as archdeluxe says hers were..but well..maybe try to get closer, if not understand, how can you think you could understand, might be worth of this wasted time, all thiss bad english i write..

ok well now i wrote a fucking mail, i guess i can go to sleep

bisous

laurent

From: Laurent
Date: 19 August 1996
Subject: melodrama

melodrama?

do u classify anything in a litterary category like this?when you hurt yourself and you bleed do you just say hmm it's nothing, just 'erythrodrama' (red story)..well no..when it hurts it hurts..

let's not be cynical..we all want to be someone for someone huh..and rather not just an ex SO..i would not go as far as to hug you to comfort you kathy, since i do not know you for the least, and gabe would accuse me of taking advantage of the situation to touch a lovely woman's body as a macho frenchman i am..but well the sympathy's here...even tho as gabriel noticed, you are not the first one this happens to and your account of it cannot beat 'les lamentations' d'abelard.. but i never thought this list was a kind of prix goncourt of the net..and i frankly have heard much worse melodrama..

this time i am off to bed

laurent

From: Werner
Date: 19 August 1996
Subject: Re: your mail

Here is a supplement for Nichelle's musical list:

Brahms, Vier Balladen, Op.10 for piano
Faure', Requiem
Poulenc, Gloria
Mahler, Symphony No.2, "Auferstehung"
Beethoven, String Quartet in a minor, Op.132
Shostakovich, Suite on verses of Michelangelo, for piano and baritone.

And for Allset: your words don't need me to twist them, so don't worry about my overnight efforts. And as for Hell, you may wish you were from there, but I am afraid that it is as difficult to deserve Hell as to deserve Heaven. Actually, I figure that the only outlook we have as afterlife is this enormous and stinking pool of laxatives and by-products, the Purgatorio: nothing to brag about.

W.

From: SAGReiss
Date: 20 August 1996
Subject: The blue bicycle

Archdeluxe, I have been to the post office to run a trace on that money order, but they won't do it until two months after the purchase date (26 July 1996). I'll send you fifty dollars for September and we can always square out accounts later. Would you mind humouring me and checking your bank records? If the address was right, you should have gotten it, and I'll have to pay for the trace. You see, Allset, there is nothing virtual about the space we rent, nor the money we pay to rent it. The server doesn't accept Camel Cash coupons. When we argue, we are arguing about real matters, contractual obligations and esthetic integrity. You may or may not take those things seriously, but there's nothing imaginary about them. As to Jade's letter, I may not have been clear enough. I do not think of the World as some kind of pen pals' club, devoted to: "pouring her feelings out to us in the hopes that doing so will somehow help her". I don't give a fuck about her feelings or yours or mine. I read Shakes, Jade, you, Stiff Lips and myself in exactly the same way. I wasn't joking when I said "dedicated to the pursuit of linguistic research and literary creation". If I read stupid shit about hearts being torn out, I don't care who wrote it or why. It's still a bullshit metaphor. John Milton wrote the most painful meditation on death in the English language about the drowning of a man he hardly knew and cared for less. I generally like your letters, Allset, and I think they will improve with time and practice. I have been writing letters explicitely intended for publication since I was fourteen or fifteen years old. I do this every day. If someone tells me that writing is the most important thing in her life, and writes shit I wouldn't expect from undergraduate scum, the word "melodrama" is not strong or uncalled-for. I tried to help her write better. When the woman I lived with in Strasbourg went to art school, they told her: "Paint what you see, not what you know." This was a serious school. The competitive entrance exam, which lasted a week and reduced eight-hundred applications to forty acceptances, included a painting exam whose question consisted in one word: "Bleu". ArchDeluxe, I thought some of what you said to negatron yesterday was misleading. I never said or even implied I would ask him to kill #147 without your consent. I also didn't know you had created #147 when I asked to have it killed. You knew this. negatron let me walk right into that ambush. This is not some whim of mine. As Ludwig pointed out, we are trying to do something different from the other MOOs. That feature is exactly why I wanted to create another kind of MOO. This is not a minor point. It's at the heart of RL MOO. I do not wish to ask for a vote at this point because I'm more afraid of winning than losing. I have gagged #147 and invite everyone else to do so. I was shocked and hurt when Ludwig showed it to me and assumed it must have been an oversight. I do not want to destroy what you have worked hard to create, but to engage in an open dialogue about the goals of RL MOO and the means to achieve them. I found very persuasive Ludwig's argument: "What would people spam if there were no canned verbs?" I don't know, but I'd like to find out. Your argument about laziness is silly. Everyone can emote whatever s/he wants. Such a feature cheapens and disenfranchises all of us, inviting us to give away our freedom of speech. Let's allow people to express themselves in their own words, not repeat some mindless drivel which we can see on every other MOO. The convenience and facility of the feature is in and of itself destructive and insidious. Have we really created a MOO so that people can hug one another and nod and cackle with insane glee?

RECTVM VINVM
Scott Alexander Gabriel Reiss

From: Terry
Date: 21 August 1996
Subject: Re: The blue bicycle

Gabe,

First, I did check my bank records... and no deposit. I'm positive I've not received it. :)

Second, I put alot of time and effort into coding #147. It is your *opinion* that it is spammy. It's my opinion that it's *useful*. Cest la Vie, that's life and what makes the world go around. We are both right, and both wrong. negatron had the perfect solution, however. Thanks, John... you've interceded once again and been the truce maker.

As for me misleading, I don't think so. You made the statement that you wanted it gone. Period. That's when I told you I'd put alot of hard work into it. NEway. I keep thinking that, someday, we'll run out of things to quarrel about. Got my fingers crossed. :)

Gotta run, I'm exhausted.

Teri

From: Joy
Date: 21 August 1996
Subject: so you wanted some mail

joyful or killjoy take yr pick...
"i bet you could write some bitchin' email" he said. [deleted] it worked, mainly for completely unrelated reasons..why recruit me? i could sit around and bitch all day about the morons in orange that surround me blah blah the thriving metropolis that i live in blah blah but these things are so old, [new and improved?] he told me "You don't seem like a different person. You seem like the same person with different problems" he hadn't seen me in a few months My psy chuckled. i haven't heard from him in a few wks, i lost contact and damnit that roommate of mine never wrote down a single fucking call i got, just erased them even though i had never heard them. i found it mildly amusing how she reminded me of her. they both had the same kind of knick-knacks (horrible word, yes i know, isn't it great?), things packaged - so obviously not western. western would be long and thin w/sharp angles. garish. tacky. bright. these were all smooth and round and aesthetically interesting. can kind of see where they are coming from.. i still need to downsize, as usual. i'm probably doing about as good a job of it as the gov't (any gov't, it doesn't really matter which) Into the room, the ever-hostile angry guest with the sharp too-clever tongue. quite impossible to talk to. talk not listen. narrow. devoted. so singular. everything with a diff't kind of flattened affect, it was terraced.. terraced dynamics (think Baroque) i really don't like 'Louis XVI' (and pals') style furniture. it's disgusting. so ornate i wish i could puke just to get the nausea out of my system. and that lurid goldleaf paint. lots of times with cream material, i just associated Versailles with these things.. (i don't know why) i hate the color cream. [deleted] they started telling me about things that didn't really affect me but Not The Way i told him to register to vote so he could at least vote against Dole but he was so apathetic he said "You know how i feel about politics" told him that he would care once someone like D was in power and was impeding his rights..he shrugeed. had a freaky book cloth bound gold inprinting comparisons of the diff't gospels - [deleted] started reading the diff't versions of the Apocalypse. one of them mentioned pestilence and plague, but the others didn't. plague and something else, for sure..i started recognizing passages.. something about man against man brother against brother..and i flipped to another part and it was going on about sheep and goats and shit. amused yet scared at the same time. blind faith scares the hell out of me. i don't understand it. never had it. don't know how to have it. it was a free-for-all anyone could worship whatever the ehll they wanted but we were such a busy family no one really had any time anyways..[deleted] this guy named M he unnerves me, would talk about all of this metaphysical shit and drum circles and spirits and chemistry and the galaxy and he's very knowledgable in alot of things but the wild look in his eyes.... and the voice bothers me also. i can hear it now. was so annoyed Anafranil man was wrinkled/crumpled and the sleeping right eye was smeared with something hope it's not a lost cause.. [deleted] and he said something about the mtv generation, in his usual haughty way. But it doesn't matter anymore, [deleted] what made me suspicious about it all was the way i felt i was being recruited for the army. someone had to be getting money somewhere, and i didn't see any headed my way. someone had to be making a profit. (someone, somewhere, always makes a profit) why else would he say such flattering things (that of course i'll never be able to live up to, assuming that they are even serious) i could have slammed back some [deleted] didn't really feel like cooperating with someone of that nature. what do they want from me? they've never wanted anything before except the opportunity to slam every single statement i made, showing the flaws in logic, or misspellings. in their sneering tone. (to what gain?) never made any promises, [deleted] so what was the point anyway? "It's not in my place to say anything" / something abou;t 147. some verb. some computer thing. a controversy. [deleted] if given #147 (or whatever # it was) i wouldn't know what to do with it. maybe look at it, slightly puzzled, for a few seconds and then rid myself of it. Pro: aids the lazy Vs. Anti:whole pt of rlmoo. this is what i have gathered, in some form or fashion. not something i really want to deal with (it's what this was all about, wasn't it? that was the whole point, to have you to write something in support of..) "it all should have been lumped as [filler]" never been a fan of moopolitics. no place of power or position within a moo, never known enough to be even remotely considered a 'hacker'. i am not a home on a keyboard, not a letter one, anyway. [deleted] "you've heard it all before" "it had an interesting flavour though" don't like trucks. like the isuzu commercials with the oriental man though.doesn't seem like there would be a need for it. there's already stuff proffed in for laugh/clap etc. /never quite the black and white issue it would seem/ not out to attack anyone. Teri was very VERY patient in helping me acquire a character, i don't know her very well.. but so soon everything seems to take sides.. i asked who was the head of this place. as expected, several names were mentioned with leadering in different vague areas... "not I" said that Cat...

From: Werner
Date: 22 August 1996
Subject: A la recherche du Gabriel perdu

Message 1:
Date: Wed Aug 21 14:31:29 1996 AKDT
From: SAGReiss
To: Werner
Subject: Dead Bucephalus

Last night the 'puter died. I must send it back to the shop. We shall therefore be an intermittant presence for two or three weeks. If you  wouldn't mind forwarding this letter to the World (to forward it to your e-mail, just type "@netforward <message number (w/o # sign)>, I would appreciate it. Due toncal problems, my e-mail address will be the old one for a while. The last letter I've received is Teri's "Re: The blue bicycle". Please add this address to your mailing list and forward any lost mail. I apologize for the inconvenience. I'll write a proper e-mail tomorrow. Right now I'm going to drown my sorrows in drink. StiffLips is probably thrilled: "Now the bastard won't be able to spend on the fucking 'puter." Vale.

From: Nichelle
Date: 24 August 1996
Subject: Let your mind sour!

Other than the fact that the 'puter has died (we're both in the lab right now) things are generally looking up. I got a job at the college library checking out books at the circulation desk. I've got a beautiful new bike, a kitten, and soon a computer account at the college, and after that a new computer.

What, does this list die every time Gabriel goes on vacation? I had planned to reply to Teri's letter the day of the big crash, so I shall try to do it now. I have been the peacemaker between Teri and Gabriel several times, but that's not what I'm after today. Please keep in mind, all of you, that I am not some clone of SAGReiss.

What is all of this garbage about people's *opinions* and we're both right and we're both wrong and all this bullshit? Even after several days, as I sit down to write this letter, and read what Teri wrote, I get very upset all over again. We have *all* put a lot of hard work into this. This is not about hard work. This is about feature #147, gender Spivak, and probably a truckload of other problems which will come up in the future. I'm tired of dealing with things on the level of petty power struggles, saying this or that because we don't want to offend this person, arguing about this other thing just because he said it, or because I didn't like the way it was said.

We've got a MOO. We've got something nobody else has- all tied together between the web and the MOO and the listserv- we've got the potential to do something that we can't do on Lambda. The only way it *works* is if you *SAY* something. You can't say something if you just type 'giggle Nichelle' or 'grin WernerH'. You can't say something if your only contribution is an occasional letter to the e-mail list saying Gabe was wrong to call somebody a cunt. Stop reacting. DO something. SAY something. And say something real, tell the truth.

An example- this guy who built the room on RL. Don't get mad yet, I don't want to dig up anything... But he built the *same room* he has on all of his other moos. (We've got it logged- he told us this.) Don't you see, that is the problem? So use these silly features and genders on other MOOs. Our MOO is different. Use the extra few keystrokes to say what you really *mean*, not just what the canned verb has to say. It isn't about work. Do you know how long Gabe recruited people for this listserv? How much time and energy it has taken me to learn to make web pages, to use html?

I think the problem is this: Gabe is the one who said something about it. Fuck convenience. We make our own bread once or twice a week, and it *tastes* better. If you have nothing to say, then don't bother to talk. If you have something to say, say it. You want these things out of habit. Fuck habit. It's the same thing on the MOO as on the list- you're willing to criticize when Allset writes a letter, or when I write something personal, but who is willing to stick his/her neck out like that? I don't need to read another letter that says "I'm so glad I have a normal life." If you have something to say, you don't need features which say things for you. If we put it up to a vote among the people who go to our MOO, I believe most of the members of the MOO would vote against canned verbs, gender Spivak, etc. What, we requre real names but not real genders???

Yes, this is a strong letter, and I'm sure I have made at least a few of you very angry. But before you sit down to write me a letter telling me I'm a jerk, think about what I said. When we're on RL MOO, can't we just do without the fast food, MTV, remote control mentality? That's the problem with convenience: you comprimise quality. These details matter. If we can't change these things, if we can't speak our own minds, if we really don't have anything to say, then we've only made another Lambda.

-Stiff Lips

From: Terry
Date: 24 August 1996
Subject: Re: Let your mind sour!

*sigh*

You missed my point.

RL is real life. I do what I *want* to do. If it's canned, fine... I may be too tired to do elsewise. If I want to emote, I can. Free MOO. As for not wanting #147, @gag it.

You guys have said it like you thought, so I will, too.

It's not anyone's fuckin' MOO. I will not be told by anyone how I should MOO; whether it's RL or another. Just because Gabe and Stiff Lips have *their* idea of what RLMOO is, doesn't make it gospel. This is what I was alluding to when I hit the matter of opinions... everyone has their own opinion of something. Whether it be a MOO or not. And their opinion is *their's*. And opinion can't be right or wrong. It's a damned opinion. I'm entitled to MOO like I want to and if I want to use canned verbs every fuckin' day, I can. I'm the one paying my ISP for this connection.

As for RLMOO, where is everyone??? I bet we're not having 10 logins a day. Hell, probably not even that many. I'll check. :)

If I sound mad, I don't mean to. I'm just tired of all the stupid MOOshit. Geez, I have more to do than to squabble over such trifle matters.

Bite me,
Teri

From: Werner
Date: 24 August 1996
Subject: Re: Let your mind sour!

Nichelle: you hit the nail on the head when you stress the need for RL to try to be different. One does not judge by 'population counts', becaouse it's obvious that if RL offered the equivalent of MTV we would have truckloads of (mentally) teen idiots there. Instead, we only got a very small handful of them, which is something good, undeniably: a small sign of progress. The replication of MOOlife patterns over the dozens of MOOs available speaks against them: I don't feel like attacking Lambda because Lambda is the way most of us met, being the largest one, but so many other MOOs are replicas of miserable attempts by frustrated hackers to carve their small niche of power (yes, I am referring to the breeding of wizards out of MOO fights, this ridiculous "I'll go and open my own MOO and then I will toad the hell out of those I hate").
I don't think that Gabriel opened RL for having power, but for having a space where brains would interact, not fingertips. So, Nichelle, I think you are completely right in your last letter.

Teri: Let us use some logic, Teri, I am not here to fight, I am just getting seriously annoyed by this display of childishness. Nobody is telling you that you should not use your verbs (at least if you coded them yourself they won't be canned but something like 'homemade'), but when you say that YOU have the right to use them you are right: you are wrong when you say that for you to have that right everybody else who disagrees with you should have to gag that feature. Now, since that features is so strongly opposed within RL, why don't you transform it into a verb on your own character, something you can use free of guilt (it's your verb, you like to use it, you are tired, you pay for your dial-in), instead of making it a free gift to every new character? I hope you see all the difference that goes between, say, cultivating your own religion for your private needs and, on the opposite hand, handing out free copies of cheap bibles in a club that is made up of non religious people. I hope the analogy helps.

(Besides, Teri, I am sure that you have MOOs where you would have more satisfaction in displaying your coding efforts than doing so in the desert of RL, where people are so little interested in technicalities, by the way).

Goodnight.

Werner

From: Colin
Date: 25 August 1996
Subject: Bibliomancy

Y'a longtemps qu'on fait d'la politique vingt ans de guerre contre les moustiques

Captain Cat: I'll tell you no lies. The only sea I saw was the seesaw sea with you riding on it. Lie down, lie easy. Let me shipwreck in your thighs.

Rosie Probert: Knock twice, Jack, at the door of my grave and ask for Rosie.

Captain Cat: Rosie Probert.

Rosie Probert: Remember her. She is forgetting. The earth which filled her mouth is vanishing from her. Remember me. I have forgotten you. I am going into the darkness of the darkness for ever. I have forgotten that I was ever born.

McCann: But everything's layed on. The Guests are expected.
Stanley: Guests? What guests?
McCann: Myself for one. I had the honor of an invitation.
Stanley (moving away): I wouldn't call it an honor, would you? It'll just be another booze-up.
McCann: But it's an honor.
Stanley: I'd say you were exaggerating.
McCann: Oh no. I'd say it was an honor.
Stanley: I'd say that was plain stupid.
McCann: Ah no.

From: Terry
Date: 25 August 1996
Subject: Re: Let your mind sour!

Display of childishness?

Um, excuse me... but some of you people are so snobbish it's not even funny. If someone doesn't fit your idea of *acceptable*, then they just suck, don't they? I've been backed into a corner time after time over RLMOO and then you people have the audicity to think I act childish? It's not childishness, you silly elitists, it's called acting defensively.

Let's see a few of you get virtually attacked almost weekly. Then let's see how you react. Just remember this: EVERYTHING you do on RLMOO is because John and I worked our asses off to get it there. A MOO comes with nothing but the core. Nothing.

You know, I'm so tired of this MOOshit. I'm tired of you snobs not liking what I've done. If you don't want #147, @rmfeature #147. Geesh. How hard can that be? If you don't want to see it in use, @gag #147. John had the perfect solution; but oh no, you big babies aren't happy with a goddamned thing unless you get your whole fuckin' way every shittin' time. Talk about ME being childish.

Pissed more and more with this crowd,
Teri

From: SAGReiss
Date: 25 August 1996
Subject: Baiseuese mignonne

I got me a frat boy this morning, dropped a glass of ice water right down his back. To his credit he didn't scream or even flinch. My effusive apologies were greeted with courtesy. I don't know what happened. They guy at the next table, who was laughing so hard he could barely speak, said I tripped on an ice cube. Whatever. I cut my hand picking up the glass. I comped his brunch. His gf kept flirting with me after I lit her cigarette. What the fuck is wrong with this country? Is it that weird that I light someone's cigarette? Something else happened in the midst of monster madness and seventy-five covers, something even better than my earning one hundred dollars with no problems. One of my former students came in with his mother. I was happy to see him. He's a good kid and was a good student. He is also a journalism major and once wrote a term paper researching the true causes of why SU fired me. Get my thinking? I gave him the address of the web pages and RL MOO. This boy might put us on the map. One weird-scathing article in the Daily Orange (I'm not making up that fucking title.) and we could have a thousand visits in a week and possibly create a controversy big enough to reach beyond this hick town. This other guest was some French-German Euroasshole with a foul mouth. I liked him and he asked for my phone number so I could tutor his son in German. A mother, meanwhile, tried to fix the boy up with her daughter, a beautiful little SUslut or sorority bitch. I said: "C'est mignon, ca." The Frenchman answered: "[The poor girl is sitting right there.] Attention, c'est une baiseuse. Ca se voit." The son and I are trying not to laugh at his father's charming little remark. Anyway I doubt the boy will call me. He was probably just humouring the old man. He recommended "Les Memoires de Casanova" which I shall read since I have no 'puter.

From: SAGReiss
Date: 27 August 1996
Subject: Cornhole

I forgot to mention the mother's reaction as these two grizzled men discussed her daughter's sexuality in crude French and German: she was beaming and gushing about her daughter's exposure to high Eurokulture: "I love the French language." We are all tired. I'm off today after thirteen shifts in fourteen grueling days, a physically tough, mentally stressful, morally tiring job. Nichelle worked ten and a half hours on her feet. I'm in pretty good shape, after fifteen years of chain-smoking alcoholism. I can walk six miles in an hour and a half without being winded. I once described myself thus: "I am thirty years old. My face looks ten years older. My body looks ten years younger. My mind could be twenty years older or younger." Anyway (on the convenience/fatigue debate) we still went home and Nichelle husted corn and cut garlic as I washed and cut spinach and prepared two live lobsters for hellfire and death. We had a delicious dinner. I shall make bread today. As to prick/cock/dick etc. (a question that provoked a tantrum which I only stayed by criticizing the letter entitled "Let your mind sour!" which I thought should have commented on the use of asterisks around the words "opinion" and "useful" rather than, for example, a parallel construction using the words "spammy" and "useful". Another argument, as I recall, was that someone worked very hard to build the fucking cockatoo, but I still don't like the motherfucking thing. While I'm at it, I forgot to mention that I could come to no serious conclusions about the metre of either Dante or Michelangelo. I translated the former into prose and the latter into iambic pentametre. I simply let the rhyme guide my choice of rhythm. As we know rhyme and rhythm have the same etymology and are simply two aspects of the phonetic structure of a poem. Interestingly the German word for alliteration is Stabreim and we know that Germanic verse used alliteration and not rhyme, which even Milton considered Eurofag bullshit, though many of his poems rhyme) I tend to use all three words depending on phonetic context. I especially like the word cunt in English (because of Tropic of Capricorn and for many other reasons) and con in French (because of Miller's wild book entitled "J'suis pas plus con qu'un autre") and futz and pfiefele in Alsatian (because they are such loveable words). I'm going to search for a job and run some errands. Vale.

From: Murder
Date: 28 August 1996
Subject: Cowville

I've been following the posts of the last couple of weeks with great interest. It's always comforting to know that I can come back after a vacation and find that the same people are still arguing and flaming each other. My trip to NYC was quite an experience. If I weren't on such a limited budget I would have tried out many other restaurants on Restaurant Row, but I mostly had cinnamon rolls and juice for breakfast, sandwiches for lunch, and a different dinner every night. I am not as much a connoisseur of international foods as most of you seem to be. That may be just as well given my current financial situation. Sat in on a analysis session given at the Manhattan Chess Club by an International Master (FIDE rating 2300-2499--one step below Grandmaster) and learned quite a lot. The Convention highlight for me was the performance by Emmanuel Pahud, principal in Berlin, of the Dutilleux Sonatine and the Faure Sonata in A. His performance was head-and-shoulders above every one else's at the Convention. What made me sick was the fact that he is only twenty-six and landed the BPO job when he was twenty-three. He has supreme mastery of his instrument and musically is far superior to any up-and-coming instrumentalist I have heard in a long time. His range of dynamics (yes, Stiff Lips, the flute is actually capable of dynamic differentiation) and tone colors is comparable to such artists as Horowitz and Callas. The competitions were a bit of a disappointment, though. I expected a higher level of playing. Makes me want to practice enough to send in a respectable tape next year. I did meet a Rebecca at the Convention, but I doubt if it is the same one that has made her appearance on this list. This town is gearing up for the annual rodeo. I will escape to my parents' place for the weekend to avoid the flying cow-dung. Found a job for the school year working in the music library here. Nothing else to report. My life is boring as hell.

Murder

From: Murder
Date: 30 August 1996
Subject: Der Grosse Apell

Woke up this morning with a slight headache after last night's White Zinfandel 1995. Yeah, I know, not exactly a choice vintage, but it served its purpose. I was helping a friend move some couches into his apartment and he ended up making us a 2:00 A.M. breakfast of eggs, corn, and wine. I have to go into major ass-kissing mode this morning because I am going to phone Leone Buyse, the flute prof at UMich, and interview her for my "Preparing for Competitions" paper to be published next year. UMich is a program I am very interested in, so I have to ask her if she foresees an opening for a grad assistant position for fall '97. When I called her this morning she was very congenial, which met my expectations because of the outstanding reputation she has in the music world. Gabe, I'm sorry my letters are not up to your standard (whatever that means), but I write with a very different purpose than you do. I thought one of the original criteria for this list was that one is free to write whatever one wants. If you wanted a list chock-full of literary geniuses, then I certainly don't understand the reason that you picked me. I don't speak a bazillion languages. I don't need to, at least under my present circumstances. Maybe that will change, though. I don't even speak English very well. Before I sent my last letter I did realize that you wouldn't let my omission of the "Chessfuhrer's" name go unnoticed. He introduced himself to me merely as "Taag," or something like that, in a relatively thick Czech (no pun intended) accent. He has played most of the greats, including Kasparov, Karpov, Walter Browne, etc. This morning I listened to one of the greatest passages in symphonic music: the "Grosse Apell" (Mahler misspelled this in the autograph as "Appell") section of the fifth movement of the Resurrection. The way GM orchestrates the two sets of offstage trumpets against the horn, timp, and flute on stage is nothing short of masterly. The "Bird of Death" phrase invented by musicologists is cliche'. The passage doesn't need words to "describe" the music. This harks back to what I said in an earlier letter about certain concepts transcending words. I know the context was completely different, but here again, words can never tell the whole story. Words are merely symbols, representations, often inaccurate. I'm leaving for Spokane immediately after conducting my interview with Ms. Buyse, so I'll be back Tuesday.

Murder

From: Nichelle
Date: 30 August 1996
Subject: Las ovejas

"I write while everyone else reads, mine mine mine, I work harder than anyone else..." Everyone else reads and only responds to you? (Of course you could argue that this is merely a response to your letter, but...) I don't think so, Gaby. Maybe you ought to dig through that file cabinet drawer you've got stuffed with old e-mail and dig out a few of my letters. I made my entrance into this World with my Tale of Terror, and I've done a respectable job since then, at least enough to hold my own. You had to design the web site yourself? At least give me some credit for the RL MOO web site. None of that shit would be there without me. A serious challenge to the key of your ostensible power? I'm never one to brag, or to push around my own weight (whatever the exact expression is), but without me you would not have come this far.

Murder, I miss you, and I'm sorry I couldn't be with you in NYC. Soon, my friend, we'll be drinking coffee and eating dessert at the cafe Delizioso, if they let me in. I guess I bounced a check there about a week before I left town. So brush up your C.P.E. Bach and Ostransky. I think you and Werner need to meet online (I also think you need to get your ass on the MOO one of these days.) and talk. A man came into the bookstore where I worked this week whose name was Werner, and I thought of you, WH. I probably sold Lou and C. Kate their textbooks. (I was the fat one with the curly hair and the blue apron.) It was a hellish four days, stapling the receipts for all of those horrible frat boys and sorority bitches who came through my line. ("And she's like, No way!, and I'm like oh yeah, she has her eyebrows done there, and she's like all smiling at me but you know she's just a slut...") I ran into an old acquantance (actually, one of my brother's ex-girlfriends) named Felicia Le Cou (not going to make Murder's mistake of leaving out the name) who is nearly as dreadful as she was when she used to call my brother twice a day. ("You tell him I'm still mad at him. Is he still married to that girl from Berkley?") Murder, I thought the "Bird of Death" was the Re-Do bird from Helensburg. I'm getting nowhere. When I read Gaby's letter this morning, I had a million things to say, but we've been to Price Chopper and up to Westcott Theater (which wasn't even open) and I'm not in the mood to write a letter now. It seems like there was more. Still, there are a million details you have all left out, not just the name of the "Chessfuhrer", but I wonder about these things, where is your computer? In the living room, in the bedroom or study? What do you eat, how often do you make love, what do you call your cock during netsex? (I believe the official answer, Allset, is that it depends on the context.)

I'm tired. Gaby keeps talking about Lou and Kate. I'm going home to eat veal liver with Gaby. I was a vegetarina when I came here.

-Stiff Lips

From: SAGReiss
Date: 31 August 1996
Subject: Touche

Don't give me this shit. I complain because the listserv is too much mine and you tell me I'm being possessive? I shouldn't need to remind you that I work harder in my sleep than anyone you have ever met works awake. You cry and whine about a couple of ten hour shifts? Those Jew bitches from New Jersey give you a hard time? I do this every day, sweetheart. You seem to forget the Villanova game, when I worked a seven-day week topped off by a twelve hour shift, went home for a few hours and worked another eighteen hours. What about the two years I spent at the Farfalla working seven days a week, fifteen hours a day or more for no pay? How about Bastille Day 1994, when I began on the thirteenth at ten in the morning and worked straight through until midnight on the fifteenth with no sleep? Don't make me laugh. While I was doing that I was writing my master's thesis on cocktail napkins. If you really make me mad, I'll just cut and paste twenty or thirty pages of it and mail the whole fucking thing to the list, and I don't give a fuck that it's in French. Kennsch nitt Elsasisch rede wie andere liet? Then I go home and make you a delicious dinner. What, have I turned you into some kind of blood-thirsty carnivour? Bullshit. I've just showed you what every Frenchman is born knowing, that good things were put on the Earth to be eaten and enjoyed. I don't give a fuck. Drink diet coke and skim milk and diet all you want and I'll still outrun you any day of the week. BTW I just popped that fucking blister I got broiling that delicious calf's liver last night. And you complain about what we eat? No one on this list eats half as well as we do. Eat fucking tofu and cabbage for all I care. I'll share a lovely supper with Matilda. Murder, I didn't want to criticize your writing, which is getting better. This isn't meant for literary genius only. It doesn't take literary genius. It takes hard work. Of course you should have written whatever you knew about the Chessfuhrer's name. That would have given Werner the opportunity to exercise his vast Eurokulture by mentioning that "Check mate" is an approximation of "The king is dead" in the czeck language. The point is not who can write the most or the best, but how can we all create some kind of multi-media polymorphous novel in real time and (whatever the opposite of real time is). Sure, I had the idea first, bite me. I know damned well who made the web page (Jude, the Obscure One) and who has embellished it (Stiff Lips). We can all do out part. Everyone has something to contribute, and I'll eventually get around to toading those who do not. Same to you, Jade. My criticism was harsh, I admit, but not uncalled-for or unjustified. Nothing lost, sit down right now and write a better letter. Tell me about that stupid bitch-cunt who actually ordered two egg whites sunny-side up. Life is weird enough without having to make shit up. Fuck all of you, I'm going to MOO. RECTVM VINVM.

From: SAGReiss
Date: 31 August 1996
Subject: (no subject)

Stiff Lips didn't quite like my last letter, so I'll write a new one, a short one while waiting for something to happen on RL MOO or Lambda to go up. This morning I was on room service and walked into a room and saw a wedding gown hanging up and asked: "Are you getting married? Not to me, I hope." "No you didn't make any false promises last night." "Thanks, I wasn't sure." As I left the room I said: "Have a happy divorce." No wonder my bosses don't like me...

July 1996

September 1996

vr: 1996

SAGReiss Home
> From: SAGReiss
Date: 31 August 1996
Subject: Touche

Don't give me this shit. I complain because the listserv is too much mine and you tell me I'm being possessive? I shouldn't need to remind you that I work harder in my sleep than anyone you have ever met works awake. You cry and whine about a couple of ten hour shifts? Those Jew bitches from New Jersey give you a hard time? I do this every day, sweetheart. You seem to forget the Villanova game, when I worked a seven-day week topped off by a twelve hour shift, went home for a few hours and worked another eighteen hours. What about the two years I spent at the Farfalla working seven days a week, fifteen hours a day or more for no pay? How about Bastille Day 1994, when I began on the thirteenth at ten in the morning and worked straight through until midnight on the fifteenth with no sleep? Don't make me laugh. While I was doing that I was writing my master's thesis on cocktail napkins. If you really make me mad, I'll just cut and paste twenty or thirty pages of it and mail the whole fucking thing to the list, and I don't give a fuck that it's in French. Kennsch nitt Elsasisch rede wie andere liet? Then I go home and make you a delicious dinner. What, have I turned you into some kind of blood-thirsty carnivour? Bullshit. I've just showed you what every Frenchman is born knowing, that good things were put on the Earth to be eaten and enjoyed. I don't give a fuck. Drink diet coke and skim milk and diet all you want and I'll still outrun you any day of the week. BTW I just popped that fucking blister I got broiling that delicious calf's liver last night. And you complain about what we eat? No one on this list eats half as well as we do. Eat fucking tofu and cabbage for all I care. I'll share a lovely supper with Matilda. Murder, I didn't want to criticize your writing, which is getting better. This isn't meant for literary genius only. It doesn't take literary genius. It takes hard work. Of course you should have written whatever you knew about the Chessfuhrer's name. That would have given Werner the opportunity to exercise his vast Eurokulture by mentioning that "Check mate" is an approximation of "The king is dead" in the czeck language. The point is not who can write the most or the best, but how can we all create some kind of multi-media polymorphous novel in real time and (whatever the opposite of real time is). Sure, I had the idea first, bite me. I know damned well who made the web page (Jude, the Obscure One) and who has embellished it (Stiff Lips). We can all do out part. Everyone has something to contribute, and I'll eventually get around to toading those who do not. Same to you, Jade. My criticism was harsh, I admit, but not uncalled-for or unjustified. Nothing lost, sit down right now and write a better letter. Tell me about that stupid bitch-cunt who actually ordered two egg whites sunny-side up. Life is weird enough without having to make shit up. Fuck all of you, I'm going to MOO. RECTVM VINVM.

From: SAGReiss
Date: 31 August 1996
Subject: (no subject)

Stiff Lips didn't quite like my last letter, so I'll write a new one, a short one while waiting for something to happen on RL MOO or Lambda to go up. This morning I was on room service and walked into a room and saw a wedding gown hanging up and asked: "Are you getting married? Not to me, I hope." "No you didn't make any false promises last night." "Thanks, I wasn't sure." As I left the room I said: "Have a happy divorce." No wonder my bosses don't like me...

July 1996

September 1996

vr: 1996

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