[an error occurred while processing this directive] ZEPHYR Magazine
                              T H E
                           Z E P H Y R
                  __     M A G A Z I N E
                 Issue #17                5-31-86
            A weekly electronic magazine for users of 
                        THE ZEPHYR II BBS 
                    (Mesa, AZ - 602-894-6526)
                owned and operated by T. H. Smith
                    Editor - Gene B. Williams 
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                            (c) 1986

   What can I say? It's that same ol' excuse again. Deadlines,
deadlines, DEADLINES! (Just when I thought I'd be able to take a 
vacation, in come 3 new book contracts. SHEESH!)
   So it was time to go to the files and yank out some more old
stuff. This week there will be 4 short shorts for ya to chew on.
The first two were experimental stuff I did some years ago and 
have a hidden (or not so hidden) meaning.

   The first is called "Survey."

I.G. S. T.   Dept. 4, Section 7

RE: Survey Team 1037; Planet 047-1136-3
    Standard Survey Summary  (complete report attached)

	Atmosphere:   78-N; 21-O; 1-Misc * * * breathable
	   Gravity:   0.88
	 Mean Temp:   0.973

Metalurgical & Elemental surveys indicate an economic potential 
ratio of approximately 0.673

Intelligent Life Forms:  3

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

                         GENESIS OF MAN

   In the beginning the Merchant purchased the earth and the 
property rights. And He saw that the earth was barren. And
the wallet of the Merchant moved over the water company, and
He said, "Let there be irrigation." And there was evening and
there was morning, one day.

   And the Merchant said, "Let there be a mansion, separate 
from the fields." And the Merchant called the mansion, "Home."
And there was evening and there was morning, a second day.

   And the Merchant said, "Let the earth bring forth vegetation,
plants yielding grapes for wine, each according to its kind.
And let the fruits be gathered and crushed into liquid, each
according to its kind." The high quality He called "heavenly,"
and the lower he called "earthy." And there was evening and 
there was morning, a third day.

   And the Merchant said, "Let there be lights all around to
keep the night as bright as the day. And let there be time clocks
as signs of hours of labor." And it was so. And the Merchant
purchased two great lights, the greater to light the fields, 
the lesser to light the buildings. And the Merchant called the
greater "mercury vapor" and the lesser "flourescent." And He
saw that it was good. And there was evening and there was morning, 
a fourth day.

   And the Merchant said, "Let the bee keeper bring forth swarms
of living creatures to pollinate for a larger crop." And the 
Merchant saw that it was good. And the Merchant blessed them
saying, "Be full of fruit and multiply and fill the plants with 
pollen." And there was evening and there was morning, a fifth day.

   And the Merchant said, "Let the juices bring forth living
creatures, bacteria in the image of yeast, and let them have
dominion over the grape juice and the fermentation." And the
Merchant saw everything that He had made, and behold, it was
very good. And there was evening and there was morning, 
a sixth day.

   Thus the wine was finished. And on the seventh day, the 
Merchant saw that the yeasts had given off alcohol as waste in
such abundance that the yeasts died in their own poison.
   And not one thing lived.

  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *
(I didn't write this next one - merely rewrote it from a 
 translation provided to me by a friend of mine who was 
 the Educational Advisor to Turkey. The story is an old
 Turkish folktale, called . . .)

                        THE BORROWED PANS

   One day Nesreddin Hoca decided to make some rice pilaf 
for his dinner. He searched high and low in his little hut 
but could not find a pot in which to cook the rice. So, he
went to his neighbor's house and borrowed a pot.
   After making the pilaf, and after for several days, he
returned two pots to the neighbor.
   "Friend Hoca, why are you returning two pots when you
borrowed only one?" the neighbor asked.
   "You are a lucky man, indeed," explained Hoca. "Your pan
had a baby."
   The neighbor had heard that old Hoca was a foolish man. He
saw here the chance to increase his wealth by the extra pot, so
he took them both into his house without another word to Hoca,
and congratulated himself.
   A few weeks later Hoca appeared once again at the neighbor's
door, asking to borrow two pots to prepare a meal for some
visitors. Thinking that old Hoca would certainly return more 
than two pots he was more than willing to make the loan.
   The days passed, and still the pots had not been returned.
So the neighbor walked to Hoca's hut to ask about them.
   "Friend Hoca, why is it that you haven't returned the two
pots you borrowed?"
   "Oh, my friend, I have such sad news for you."
   "Oh? What is that?"
   "I am so sorry to tell you this, but your pots have died."
   The neighbor realized that he wasn't going to get his pots
back and was furious. "How can a pot die? Pots aren't alive!"
   "I can't explain it," answered Hoca. "They just died. But
what is so strange about this? When I returned your pot before
and told you that it had a baby you made no complain. And a
pot that can have a baby can surely die."

  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *
(I know it's out of season, but . . .)

                       THE CHR.shtmlAS STAR

   Stephen felt a cold splat on the back of his head. He spun
around and saw his sister, Linda, bending in the snow, making
another snowball to throw at him.
   "What's the matter, Stephen," she said, laughing. "Is the 
snow cold?"
   In answer he bunched together a handful of snow and tossed 
it at Linda. It hit her shoulder, causing her to drop the
snowball she had just made. Then it was Stephen's turn to 
laugh. "You tell -me- how cold it is!"
   The air was filled with flying clumps of the soft snow. The
snowballs flew through the air, missing the target more often
than not. Soon the two were covered with the sticky snow and
weak with laughter.
   "Oh, Stephen, look! It's snowing again."
   "Let's make angels," he said.
   The two plopped down into the snow and began to flap their
arms and legs. As soon as each "angel" was made they moved a
few feet away to make another, then another, until the ground
was populated with them.
   The snow fell harder and harder. Soon it was covering up
their works of art almost as quickly as they could make them.
A cold wind began to blow and turned the moisture on their
clothes to icy crystals.
   We'd better go in," said Stephen. Linda shivered and agreed.
It wasn't much fun plaing in such a cold wind.
   Inside they watched the snow come down. It fell so thick that
they could hardly see the next mountain. Still, it was grand 
being in the mountains for Chr.shtmlas. Even the blizzard was 
exciting. It howled through the trees and occasionally struck 
at the small cabin with an icy fist.
   As the sun made its way behind the trees, and darkness came,
the snow was still falling. Father had a big fire in the 
fireplace. Mother and Linda set up the small manger scene. 
The flicker of the fire made the star on top seem almost alive.
   "I wish we could outside to play," said Linda.
   "Well, it can't snow forever," Stephen commented, wishing
the same thing. "Besides, we'll be going home tomorrow."
   Linda's eyes sparkled. "Yes. And then we'll have Chr.shtmlas!
Won't it be wonderful? We'll have a big tree, with lots of 
presents under it."
   "Don't forget the turkey," added Stephen.
   "With dressing and mashed potatoes and gravy and everything."
   Both made sounds, pretending to be enjoying the meal already.
The thought of it made the storm outside seem less important. 
They giggled and talked of what they wanted for Chr.shtmlas this
   The radio intruded from the background. The storm showed no
signs of stopping, the announcer said. Snow plows were unable
to clear the roads. Travel in the mountains was impossible.
   They were snowbound.
   "Oh, no," sniffed Linda. "Tomorrow is Chr.shtmlas Eve, and
we'll be stuck here. No turkey, and no presents. Not even
a tree."
   Stephen was disappointed, too, but was determined to show
Linda how mature he was. "It's okay, Linda. We may get home
a few days late, but we'll still have Chr.shtmlas."
   "Some Chr.shtmlas," she said pouting, and stomped off to
her room.
   It snowed all that night, and all the next day. As Chr.shtmlas
Eve came, when they should have been celebrating and opening
all the brightly wrapped packages, it was still snowing, and
blowing. Outside the wind howled at them. It almost seemed
to be laughing at them and their disappointment.
   Linda was so upset that she locked herself in her room. This
just wasn't her idea of a good Chr.shtmlas. Stephen couldn't help
but feel sorry for her. Quietly he knocked on her door.
   "Linda," he whispered.
   "Go away!"
   "Come on, Linda. Cheer up. It's almost Chr.shtmlas."
   "Some Chr.shtmlas. We don't even have a tree." She sniffed 
through the door.
   An idea came to Stephen. He knew how fond Linda was of the
small manger scene. "Linda, I have a present for you."
   The door cracked just a little, and Linda peeked out with
red eyes. "A present? How?"
   He reached in and took her hand. "Just come with me," he
said. Together they walked down the hall and into the central 
room of the cabin. Stephen pointed outside. "Look. The storm 
has stopped. See how clear it is outside."
   "So what," she sulked. "We're still stuck here."
   "Look up into the sky," he said. The star shined like 
thousands of specks of white paint on a black sheet.
   Linda looked at him, puzzled. "They're just stars."
   "No, not -just- stars. Jesus was born under a star, like
on the manger scene. So, for my Chr.shtmlas present to you, I'm
giving you any one of those stars you want. It'll be your
Chr.shtmlas star - all your very own."
   Linda looked at her brother, then back at the sky. Suddenly
her eyes widened and sparkled. "That one!" she screamed. "That
bright one over there. It looks just like the star on the 
manger scene. -That- will be my Chr.shtmlas star."
   Stephen felt a tingle of pleasure on his skin. He didn't
even mind when Linda hugged him and gave him a wet kiss on
his cheek.


  Stuff from the files this week - and perhaps next week as well.
Not that most of you would know the difference anyway . . .
  Anyway, it looks like this crushing deadline will be met this
coming week and yet another GBW book will be off to the presses.
(Actually two - I went through the page proofs of "Chilton's 
Guide to Home Computer Repair and Maintenance" this past week, 
which means that it should be hitting the stands in the next 
couple of months.)

  Ooops. Got sidetracked a bit with the plug. (I'm still wondering
how many of the readers of the board here happen to own a copy
of any of my books???????)

NEXT WEEK:  Pot luck, so to speak. A collection of strange and
unusual events around the world.

COMING UP:  Jim Lippard will hopefully be doing a guest article
on nuclear power. Personally I can't think of anyone more
qualified to handle the job.

ALSO COMING UP:  Scott Carroll apparently isn't one to just 
suggest an article - he's willing to back it up. With luck one
day soon we'll see a piece co-authored by Scott and myself.

STILL NEEDED:  We still need a LOT more support for the board.
Spread the word. In other words, pay your subscription fee and
bring in a new user this week.

Zephyr Magazine is © Gene Williams. All rights reserved.