Well, here we go again. Welcome to Issue Two of FreeWheeling Magazine. I trust you all enjoyed the first edition, if not, I'd love to hear from you about it. For those who missed the first edition back copies are available on request, and will continue to be so in the future.
This issue sees a fairly mixed bag of articles ranging from the crass to the informative. I'd like to point out however that I am still only receiving articles from a few energetic people. Come on the rest of you, it isn't that hard, you could just send me your five favorite web sites. *poke*.
This issue shows a substantial expansion in the Magazine, and the sections of interest are shown below. Please bear with me on any mistakes, as I'm learning how to do this stuff 'on the hoof' ;)
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Everything was rather quiet in the Hundred Acre Wood. The trees whispered to each other as the wind rustled their leaves. Under a large oak tree, there lived Pooh bear. From inside Pooh's house, there came a steady bang...bang... bang!, that was making his honey jars rattle on the sideboard. The light came through the window, and in the evening sun Pooh raised the axe once more and brought it down on the tattered remains of Christopher Robin.
"Why...won't...he...fit..." puffed Pooh to himself as the axe came down once more. There was a small pile of earth, and a hole next to it, which Pooh had hidden with his favourite rug. Christopher Robin, selfish prat that he was, didn't quite fit in the hole Pooh had dug, so instead of making it wider he had decided to hack Christopher Robin's legs off. "A far more sensible idea", thought Pooh, and hummed a little song to himself as he cut the last tendon and rammed the rest of the body in the hole, finally covering it up with the rug. "Always too bossy", thought Pooh, "Always too bossy, always grabbing me by the paw and saying 'Come on Pooh lets have an adventure' or 'Pooh you are silly!' in that affected cutesy spoilt brat voice, and his stupid little shorts - bastard!"
Pooh had waited all afternoon for Christopher Robin to come round, humming a little tuneless song to himself whilst gazing blankly into the fire and fondling the oaken handle of the axe. When Chritopher Robin had finally turned up, squeaking in his child-actor voice "Come on Pooh! Open Up!", Pooh had answered the door normal as anything, talked about the weather, and then went to the cupboard and fetched the axe. While Christopher Robin had sat there, prattling on about what a silly bear Pooh was and how he had very little brain (which wound Pooh up no end) Pooh had raised the axe high and brought it down with a satisfying thud on Christopher Robin's skull, cleaving it virtually in two, with just some muscle fibre in place to keep the pieces upright, and freezing Christopher Robin's eyes wide in horror that Pooh, lovable Pooh, could do such a thing! Pooh giggled a little and wiped some saliva from his mouth with a shaky paw. Then Pooh, calm as anything, had mopped up the blood, washed the axe and begun to dig the hole.
Piglet had no time to realise what had happened - the drill pierced his skull, sending a beautiful fountain of blood all over Pooh's orange hide. He rubbed the blood in and all over himself, licking, licking, always licking. Then he pulled Piglet inside and put him in the cupboard. The syringe lay on the sideboard, and Pooh picked it up, paws shaking and sweating, and filled it full of solution of the funny white powder that had been given to him by a strangely spaced-out Rabbit. It had a strange effect at first, and Pooh thought he had seen many strange things, but then experienced a euphoric feeling of power. It made him irritable, and Christopher Robin and Piglet had everything that was coming to them, no doubt at all. When night had fully fallen, Pooh dragged the bodies out and buried them in a makeshift grave.
"Adios, dear 'friends'", Pooh giggled, "things are going to change around the Hundred Acre wood now I'm in charge." He laughed hysterically and went indoors.
When they reached Pooh's house the door was wide open and Pooh was nowhere to be seen. Tigger and Roo looked inside Pooh's house and noticed a large hole in Pooh's floor and a notice was stuck on the wall with a large blob of congealing honey "OWT CHAGIG THE DRAGGN" (spelling had never been one of Pooh's strong points). "That's odd", though Tigger, "there are no dragons in the Hundred Acre Wood, only heffalumps. What is that silly bear up to now?"
Not even Tigger would have imagined what Pooh was up to at that moment. That morning Pooh had woken with a splitting headache and a rather snotty nose. So he had taken a large dose of the white powder and a little while later had a brilliant idea! He left the house with a container marked INSECTICIDE in big red letters. He took the container and went to Eeyor's favourite patch of thistles.
"This will serve that manic depressive donkey right" laughed Pooh aloud. "Always cheating at Pooh-sticks, cheats never prosper," Pooh said to himself. Then he hid behind a tree to watch the unsuspecting Eeyor eat himself to death - sheer poetic justice thought Pooh as he dumped the nearly dead body of Eeyor in the same grave as Christopher Robin and Piglet - "Shouldn't cheat should you?", shouted Pooh as Eeyor's eyes stared with disbelief - "You're lucky I didn't chop you up into little bits and feed you to Tigger!", laughed Pooh manically, before he covered the makeshift grave over.
Pooh didn't return to the house until dinner time as he was totally spaced out all morning. So when he returned to his house he was in an awful mood and all he needed to make him absolutely mad was the sight of Tigger and Roo bouncing up and down outside his house singing "bouncy, bouncy, fun, fun, fun, fun, fun, the wonderful....".
"'Wonderful'?", thought Pooh aloud, "My foot, you'd think the writer of this shitty story could think up better lyrics for a song than that, and to think, they released the soundtrack album on cassette and CD; a lot of people are going to get ripped off." This lightened Pooh's mood somewhat, but the respite was brief.
"What was that you said?", asked Roo.
"God does he never stop asking pathetic questions?", Pooh thought furiously. "I'm going to have to deal with these prats as well. Is there no-one in this place with intelligence apart from me?" Pooh asked despairingly.
Pooh felt himself extremely lucky as Roo had to go home for his afternoon sleep and that left Tigger at his mercy. Even better, Tigger suggested that himself and Pooh go and play Pooh-sticks; Pooh had smiled slyly as an idea formed in his overactive brain, and agreed - "What an opportunity", Pooh whispered to himself as he followed the innocent Tigger to the bridge.
Once on the bridge, and the rather pointless game of Pooh-sticks was underway, Pooh thought he'd much rather push his stick up Tigger's arse, rather than throwing it into the stream. Tigger was leaning over the side of the bridge looking for his stick. So he did not see Pooh's wide horrific grin as he stretched out his arms and moved toward Tigger with the intent of pushing the stupid cat into the stream - "Cats hate water, tee hee, he'll drown."
There was a loud splash as Tigger hit the water and started to struggle as his head was covered by water, he gulped and choked. Pooh was holding on to the rail of the bridge and jumping up and down with excitement and was joyously shouting at the drowning Tigger.
"Why?", spluttered Tigger as he slowly started to turn blue with the cold, which Pooh found hysterical, after all a blue Tigger?? How absolutely silly. "I'll tell you why you bastard", screamed Pooh. "It serves you right, hiding behind doors and jumping out, and scaring the shit out of people." But Tigger did not hear Pooh's answer as he was already floating downstream face down in the water, dead - "Good riddance", laughed Pooh, and looked at his watch, "Still time to get that little dick head Roo before he wakes up."
Pooh sneaked to the sleeping form of Roo's mum and saw Roo's ear poking out of her pouch - "Now I've got you, you little git", Pooh thought, smiling, as he threaded a needle with extra strong cotton. He was jolly grateful for Piglet's sewing lessons now, because he would be able to sew up Roo nice and tightly, so he would not be able to get out and his mum would not be able to rescue him. So very slowly and carefully Pooh began to sew Roo into his pouch and thereby suffocating the annoying idiotic twit. After the deed was done Pooh made his way back to his house wondering how Roo's mum would take the death of Roo. Badly, hoped Pooh, as he began to cough uncontrollably and felt general nausea overcome him.
By the time Pooh got home he had puked up several times and was very desperate for some more of the white solution. He trembled as he picked up the syringe and gave himself the remaining amount. An awfully large amount, one might say, for a small little bear like Pooh. In fact too much; Pooh died of an overdose, but he died with a smile on his face: he was dreaming that he was the only teddy bear made with a willy and dreamed how he surprised Eeyor one day - but that's a story for another day.
Darkness by Daedelus (Hard Coding NOW!)
This zone is based on a saw mill and a nasty plunge into the realm of Darkness, where players are tested and tried by the ultimate in dark forces. Not for the faint hearted there are some interesting puzzles to solve.
Hamelin by Gly (Hard Coding SOON!)
This zone is a large replacement for town zone and is based on the story of the Pied Piper Of Hamelin in the 1400's. A substantial zone with over six hundred rooms there will be plenty to explore.
Guild by Astar (Hard Coding SOON!)
A re-written Gobozz based on an Thieves guild, who have stolen the painting from a Museum, a break-in is iminent. Retrieve the painting and become the hero of the hour.
Common by Gly
This zone is the surrounding farmlands to Hamelin with an easy quest for inexperienced players. It links Hamelin to Castle and Mountain zones.
Cavern by Gly
This zone links Hamelin to the Firebrand Mountain and is destined to play an important part in Hamelin quest, as the Pied Pipers stolen children are trapped in the caverns.
Clockshop by Gly
A one room zone, in which many puzzles have to executed, built into Hamelin, fitting the 15th century theme. A severe brain teaser this one sure to puzzle numerous players.
Calaedonia by Gly (Hard Coding Started)
Based on Clans in the Scottish Highlands, it is a Untouchable strategy game zone, due to be coded soon. Unforetunately this will only be for untouchables, but its just another reason for you all to try your hardest to make untouchable. (INFO CLANS)
Silicon Hell by Gly, Astar and Daedelus (Hard Coding Started)
If your Good you go to Heaven, If your bad, NOW you don't! If your attitude is Evil, Mr Talkie Torturer is welcoming you with open arms. Don't dally around here, its not a very nice place ;)
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Bowl by Luckyspin
This is a simple small town involving many new characters before unseen on the Terradome, it expands the realm of Nibelung, with some tricky puzzles to solve.
Citadel by Lukie
This is a very large extension to the already existing Citadel, giving the whole concept more depth and introducing more of the dwarfen legends. A wealth of new stuff here to explore.
SciFi by Lukie
This is based on a mix between Star Trek and Dr Who, beginning with a jumpstarted Tardis, the sci-fi adventure that enfolds is out of this world. Calling all you Treckers, this ones for you!!
Atlantis by Lukie
This zone is to be the first dominantly underwater zone based on the legend of the Lost City. Descend into the depths to explore. It is to link to Common and the Sea.
Mist by Daedelus
Designed for new players, this zone invokes an eerie realm in which strange commands are required to conquer the tests of the misty world. A load of puzzling tasks lie ahead.
Dragon by Obi
The Golden Dragon quest involves conquering a complex mix of misleading portals, and potions with many different coloured elements. A good memory and a fair amount of brain power required.
Shades by Gly
A dark dangerous part of the town of Hamelin in which crimnals of all varieties are loose, based on the ideas of Terry Prachett. Enter the zone to your peril.
Prison by Gly
A new Prison, for when arrested, involving a quest to escape, as the main door is locked. It is part of the impressively large city of Hamelin.
Kiti by Portia
An extension to the Mansion, involving a large house and various household problems on the way. A puzzling zone, with few mobiles, it involves deep thought.
Greece by Morr and Portia
The 12 Trials of Hercules, and his quests, carry you through many varied and widespread locations, and require the understanding of many puzzles to reach a Legend in your own right.
Druidkeep by Medains
The forest has changed some what as the Gnomes home changes the peaceful nature of the forest, Wiley and Co. are presently being expanded!
Camelot by Frodo
The quest for Excalibur, now enters the true story of Camelot, in Terradomes own truely proffessional style. Are you chosen by the Lady Of The Lake for the endowment of her greatest gift?
Rescue by Luckyspin
In the time when the lighthouse light was mysteriously off, a boat has run aground on the rocks. Your mission is to stop it sinking, anyway you can. Some puzzling but relatively easy things to solve here.
It is important that an Untouchable (preferably Gly) is consulted before any work on a zone is started, as much time can be wasted on an idea that does not fit the Terradome theme and would therefore not be considered.
Terradome is looking for new and original zones, it only wants zones for this mud, to be distributed with a release version, any zones that appear on any other muds, will not be included. Anyone found distributing TD zones to another mud will be banned for life.
If you have any ideas for zones, please contact Gly on the Terradome. There is one stipulation to writing zones : You must be an Untouchable on Terradome.
However, all ideas for improvements and changes are greatly appreciated. We
realise we can sometimes lose track of the game ;)
You won't be asked to do it again.
50 Fun things to do in a final that does not matter (i.e. you are going to fail the class completely no matter what you get on the final exam)
1. Bring a pillow. Fall asleep (or pretend to) until the last 15 minutes. Wake up, say "oh geez, better get cracking" and do some gibberish work. Turn it in a few minutes early. 2. Get a copy of the exam, run out screaming "Andre, Andre, I've got the secret documents!!" 3. If it is a math/science exam, answer in essay form. If it is long answer/essay form, answer with numbers and symbols. Be creative. Use the integral symbol. 4. Make paper airplanes out of the exam. Aim them at the instructor's left nostril. 5. Talk the entire way through the exam. Read questions aloud, debat your answers with yourself out loud. If asked to stop, yell out, "I'm SOOO sure you can hear me thinking." Then start talking about what a jerk the instructor is. 6. Bring cheerleaders. 7. Walk in, get the exam, sit down. About five minutes into it, loudly say to the instructor, "I don't understand ANY of this. I've been to every lecture all semester long! What's the deal? And who the hell are you? Where's the regular guy?" 8. Bring a Game Boy (or Game Gear, etc...). Play with the volume at max level. 9. On the answer sheet (book, whatever) find a new, interesting way to refuse to answer every question. For example: I refuse to answer this question on the grounds that it conflicts with my religious beliefs. Be creative. 10. Bring pets. 11. Run into the exam room looking about frantically. Breathe a sigh of relief. Go to the instructor, say "They've found me, I have to leave the country" and run off. 12. Fifteen minutes into the exam, stand up, rip up all the papers into very small pieces, throw them into the air and yell out "Merry Christmas." If you're really daring,ask for another copy of the test. Say you lost the first one. Repeat this process every fifteen minutes. 13. Do the exam with crayons, paint, or fluorescent markers. 14. Come into the exam wearing slippers, a bathrobe, a towel on your head, and nothing else. 15. Come down with a BAD case of Turet's Syndrome during the exam. Be as vulgar as possible. 16. Do the entire exam in another language. If you don't know one, make one up! For math/science exams, try using Roman numerals. 17. Bring things to throw at the instructor when s/he's not looking. Blame it on the person nearest to you. 18. As soon as the instructor hands you the exam, eat it. 19. Walk into the exam with an entourage. Claim you are going to be taping your next video during the exam. Try to get the instructor to let them stay, be persuasive. Tell the instructor to expect a percentage of the profits if they are allowed to stay. 20. Every five minutes, stand up, collect all your things, move to another seat, continue with the exam. 21. Turn in the exam approximately 30 minutes into it. As you walk out, start commenting on how easy it was. 22. Do the entire exam as if it was multiple choice and true/false. If it is a multiple choice exam, spell out interesting things (DCCAB. BABE. etc..). 23. Bring a black marker. Return the exam with all questions and answers completely blacked out. 24. Get the exam. Twenty minutes into it, throw your papers down violently, scream out "Fuck this!" and walk out triumphantly. 25. Arrange a protest before the exam starts (i.e. Threaten the instructor that whether or not everyone's done, they are all leaving after one hour to go drink) 26. Show up completely drunk. (Completely drunk means at some point during the exam, you should start crying for mommy). 27. Every now and then, clap twice rapidly. If the instructor asks why, tell him/her in a very derogatory tone, "the light bulb that goes on above my head when I get an idea is hooked up to a clapper. DUH!" 28. Comment on how sexy the instructor is looking that day. 29. Come to the exam wearing a black cloak. After about 30 minutes, put on a white mask and start yelling "I'm here, the phantom of the> opera" until they drag you away. 30. Go to an exam for a class you have no clue about, where you know the class is very small, and the instructor would recognize you if you belonged. Claim that you have been to every lecture. Fight for your right to take the exam. 31. Upon receiving the exam, look it over, while laughing loudly, say "you don't really expect me to waste my time on this drivel? Days of our Lives is on!!!" 32. Bring a water pistol with you. Nuff said. 33. From the moment the exam begins, hum the theme to Jeopardy. Ignore the instructor's requests for you to stop. When they finally get you to leave one way or another, begin whistling the theme to the Bridge on the River Kwai. 34. Start a brawl in the middle of the exam. 35. If the exam is math/science related, make up the longest proofs you could possibly think of. Get pi and imaginary numbers into most equations. If it is a written exam, relate everything to your own life story. 36. Come in wearing a full knight's outfit, complete with sword and shield. 37. Bring a friend to give you a back massage the entire way through the exam. Insist this person is needed, because you have bad circulation. 38. Bring cheat sheets FOR ANOTHER CLASS (make sure this is obvious... like history notes for a calculus exam... otherwise you're not just failing, you're getting kicked out too) and staple them to the exam, with the comment "Please use the attached notes for references as you see fit." 39. When you walk in, complain about the heat. Strip. 40. After you get the exam, call the instructor over, point to any question, ask for the answer. Try to work it out of him/her. 41. One word: Wrestlemania. 42. Bring balloons, blow them up, start throwing them around like they do before concerts start. 43. Try to get people in the room to do the wave. 44. Play frisbee with a friend at the other side of the room. 45. Bring some large, cumbersome, ugly idol. Put it right next to you. Pray to it often. Consider a small sacrifice. 46. Get deliveries of candy, flowers, balloons, telegrams, etc... sent to you every few minutes throughout the exam. 47. During the exam, take apart everything around you. Desks, chairs, anything you can reach. 48. Complete the exam with everything you write being backwards at a 90 degree angle. 49. Bring a musical instrument with you, play various tunes. If you are asked to stop, say "it helps me think." Bring a copy of the Student Handbook with you, challenging the instructor to find the section on musical instruments during finals. Don't forget to use the phrase "Told you so". 50. Answer the exam with the "Top Ten Reasons Why Professor xxxx Sucks"
Analysis
Physical Properties
Common Uses
A small list to tickle your fancy. Some useful, some not, but all worth a look.
http://www.oulu.fi/tbl.html - Heaven for Bass Players
http://www.mclink.it/n/gal/galleria.html - Gallery Roma 2001
http://thrustssc.dec.co.uk/ - Thrust SCC
http://www.sips.state.nc.us./docs/top-10.html - Top 10 Docs for new users
http:/www.futurenet.co.uk/ - FutureNet
http://www.ace.mdx.ac.uk/Hub/Hub_out.html - The Hub
http://vvv.com/adsint/freehand/uncleal/ - Uncle Al
http://www.bookshop.co.uk/ - Internet Bookshop
http://wcl-rs.bham.ac.uk/GamesDomain/index.html - Games Domain
http://www.nhm.ac.uk/index.html - Natural History Museum
A boy was crossing a road one day when a frog called out to him and said, "If
you kiss me, I'll turn into a beautiful princess". He bent over, picked up the
frog and put it in his pocket.
The frog spoke up again and said, "If you kiss me and turn me back into a beautiful princess, I will stay with you for one week." The boy took the frog out of his pocket, smiled at it and returned it to the pocket.
The frog then cried out, "If you kiss me and turn me back into a princess, I'll stay with you and do ANYTHING you want." Again the boy took the frog out, smiled at it and put it back into his pocket.
Finally, the frog asked, "What is the matter? I've told you I'm a beautiful princess, that I'll stay with you for a week and do anything you want. Why won't you kiss me?"
The boy said, "Look I'm a software engineer. I don't have time for a girlfriend, but a talking frog is cool."
Herein follows a report of the Summer Ball which took place at the Wheatley Campus of Oxford Brookes University on Saturday 17th June 1995.
For those of you who haven't felt the need to go to a ball before, I shall describe what it is. It is an excuse for lots of untidy, and unkempt students, to groom themselves, dress up smartly and wander round several fields until the early hours of the morning, consuming copious amounts of alcohol and snogging anything they can get their lips around (including hotdogs, kebabs, and do'nuts).
This is an account of the escapades of certain better known members of the Terradome at the said event.
Kick-off (if that's the right word for such an event) was at 7.30 pm, and a certain group of people, namely Mr Jackson (Gly) and Mr Cave (Astar) convened slightly earlier (6.30 pm) at the residence of Ms Chopping (Portia) on the wonderful campus of Wheatley. They were soon to be joined by Ms Groves (Andromeda) and Ms Williams (of no fixed-pseud). The best part of three different salads, a Waldorf, a fruit and a 'normal', prepared by Mr Jackson, a bottle of wine, a can of Skol (philistines!) and a can of Guiness, were consumed.
Eventually, leaving Mr Jackson to help Ms Chopping finish getting dressed, the party left to effect a covert entrance into the proceedings. Well we went in by the front actually.
By far the largest complex was of course the beer tent, and so it was with no surprise, and with some alacrity I might add, that we converged there, as most people who had arrived before us had already done. Beer was purchased. A table was found, and beer was consumed amidst, talking, admiring each other's formal wear, and photographs being taken.
Mr McGhee (Boogie) was soon seen, and came and told the entire party that he loved us all, which, if anyone knows Mr McGhee, means that he had already drunk at least two pints and was onto his third.
Mr McGhee, dressed formally in a perfectly creased, and slightly crumpled white shirt, decoratively adorned with penguins on the back (I know it's called a penguin suit, but that's just going one too far), then disappeared.
Making the trek to the public conveniences was somewhat of an ordeal. Because of the queues one had to plan well ahead of the event, and one tended to be accosted on the route there and back, by well meaning members of the public, whom one knew, and who complimented one on attire, and insisted on photographing it for posterity. So it was that such a trip could take anything up to 45 minutes.
As the evening progressed, much of the delicacies and efficacies which the ball had to offer. This included, dodgems, which were supplied gratis; a Waltzer, which, I am given to understand, was not that good; various stands offering condiments of allsorts, especially do'nuts (*yum*); two different venues where one could shake rattle and roll the alcohol out of one's system; and, it goes without saying, two bars, a cocktail bar, and a Pimms bar; they even threw in a casino for good measure.
I would wish to enlighten you on a fallacy of a summer ball. One does not consume as much alcohol as one might expect spending the equivalent time on a pub crawl or other such drinking endeavour. This is largely because the bars were besieged, and thus it took sometime to procure more alcohol. The best procedure is to buy two.
Another useful hint: If you are of the bow-tie wearing persuasion, then you are advised to purchase a 'real' one (ie. one that you have to tie yourself). This for two reasons. Firstly, people admire the fact that it is obviosuly real, because it is tied so badly (ask Mr Jackson about this *duck*), and sits at a rakish angle around the neck. Secondly, as the proceedings wind on, one tends to find one's neck restricted, then one can undo one's tie and let it hang which again attracts glowing comments, because people wearing 'pretend' bowties cannot do this.
Perhaps one of the best parts of the evening was in the larger of the two dancing venues, where "The Bandit Beatles" let rip with some of those Golden Oldie favourites, and every body got down and boogied (apart of course for Mr McGhee (Boogie himself), who was nowhere to be seen but was probably consuming yet more alcohol; He assures us he knows exactly how much he drank that night).
Once "The Bandit Beatles" had wound up their event with one final rendition of 'Twist and Shout', the party, inclusive of Mr Jackson and Ms Chopping, went in search of the said Mr McGhee again. He was discovered in, yes you guessed it, the beer tent of course. He was talking engagingly with a friend, who in an attempt to wind him up (Who? Mr McGhee? No impossible!), was singing his own rendition of 'Swing Low Sweet Chariot'. Being a Scotsman born and bred, Mr McGhee usually takes offence at this action, especially if it is sung off-key (which it was). He proceeded to throw his arms around the said friend, who interestingly enough was wearing a half-empty pint glass on his head, and planted a huge wet kiss on his cheek, in order to make him stop. (No, he did not snog him as certain Emperors would have us belive). Of course, we were most surprised by this.
Good fun was had by all, though more fun was had by some, especially those who had managed to consume the more alcohol. The ball wound up at about 3 am, and most people disappeared, although for some, the party was by no means over. Mr Jackson and Ms Chopping having already disappeared, a small group of party-animals descended on Ms Groves' rooms, there to consume any more alcohol they could find. But, by 4.30 am, most were beginning to wither, due in part to the length of the evening as a coeffeicient of the amount of beer consumed. The best cure for this of course was bed.
Note: Lucas has now taken over the magazine and all mail should be directed to him.