Air Warrior spam hole

[Arrow]

This one will lack meaning to most here on this thread.  Some guys like old MZ will get it as he was part of what I think was the greatest rivalry in AW History. 33rd vs Shill.   Hell our rivalry included a food fight at the 1997 Con in Houston Tx.  

A SALUTE TO OLE ARC

'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through Kesmai land
Not an aircraft was stirring, not even in C-land;
The stockings were hung by the fighthers with care,
In hopes that ole Arc soon would be there;

The pilots were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of fighter-kills danced in their heads;
with Lucyboots in her kerchief, and Da Lemming in his cap,
The 33rd just settled down for a  short combat nap,

When out on the tarmac there arose such a clatter,
We sprang from our bunks to see what was the matter.
Away to the window we flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.

While Europe was covered with new-fallen snow,
The Pacific awash in a warm winters glow,
When, what my wondering eyes should report,
But a miniature Buff, and eight tiny escort,

With a little old pilot, so lively and spark,
we knew in a moment it must be ole Arc.
More rapid than Spitfires his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;

'Now,TAC! now, SLOTH! now, BURN and SWOOP!
On, EZ! on ARROW! on, VANCE and  you OOPS!
To the top of the tower! to the top of the wall!
Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!'

As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky,
So up to the hanger-top the coursers they flew,
With the sleigh full of gifts, and Good ole Arc too.

And then, in a twinkling, I heard in the sky
The roaring and growling of each little Ki.
As I drew in my hand, and was turning around,
Down from the sky Ole Arc came with a bound.

He was dressed  in a flightsuit, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with oil and soot;
A bundle of gifts he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a private just opening his pack.

His eyes -- how they twinkled! his dimples how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the beard of his chin was as white as the snow;

The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath;
He had a broad face and a little round belly,
That shook, when he laughed like a bowlful of jelly.

He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,
And we laughed when we saw him, in spite of ourself;
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Soon gave us to know we had nothing to dread;

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all the stockings; then turned with a jerk,
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up to his plane he arose;

He sprang to his buff, to his scorts gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim, ere he flew out of sight,

'HAPPY CHRISTMAS TO ALL, AND TO ALL A GOOD-NIGHT'.



( This poem was composed in December of 1996, Keep that
in mind when you read Bean's statement below.)

ARC I think I can speak on behlalf of all of us here.

It has been six long months since I began flying Air Warrior, at about the
same time you formed the squad. I was quickly drawn to the way that you,
Oops, Wlvee and the others enjoyed the game. Your cyber friendships
expressed over the radio made the game enjoyable for myself and I am certain
everyone in the game. We have seen other Squadrons come and go. We have seen
other pilots come and go, but what you have created will be forever in our
hearts.

I enjoy the pleasent memories. Tanking to A82 with EZ and VANCE. Having you
taxi a badly damaged B17 halfway across B-land with probably the whole squad
at the time inside, only to be vulched feet from B84 (I think). I can still
see the laughter rolling across the screen from that one. I enjoy the
thought of the pleasent memories that are sure to come.

In this holiday season I wish you and the fellow 33rd (yeah Bandito wether
you like it or not your a member by default), a very Happy and Safe Holiday
with Gods Blessings.

You started this all.

Thank You

BEAN & the Rest of the 33rd

[Montezuma]

Today Spam Hole presents...
Dreaded Llama of the Shillelagh explaining what it means to be a 'dweeb' in Air Warrior.  I hear they have dweebs in Aces High also.

>>>
Hey! are you tired of being liked? Does it bother you that people constantly think you opinion is valid and worth listening to? then continue on noble reader as you learn.....HOW TO BE A DWEEB!!!!!

Section 1. General dweebdom No that isn't the name of the first dweeb pilot in AW history. General dweebdom is what is usually encountered in an arena at any given time. Now, you're probably asking yourself, "hey, what exactly constitutes dweebness?" Well, there are a great many factors which can contribute to your dweebdom.

A.Stupidity
Done anything stupid lately? I mean anything. engaged 5+ enemy with you gear down? opened your chute for no reason from better than 10k? sat on the runway in FR wondering on an open channel how to turn your engine on? you may already be a winner.

In the AW community anything you do that can be considered stupid and be seen by one or more people can get you labeled a dweeb. Stupidity is also a fairly broad category. "What else can be called stupid?" well, here are a couple examples. On one occasion a fellow ranted and raved about my squads near dominance of an arena. Finally, he actually WROTE KESMAI. He claimed we were keeping players from enjoying what they paid for. Never mind that there are at minimum 5 arenas. Dweeb, 1st class.

Second example. A former squad member got into a heated argument with an enemy pilot on an open channel. first it was simple insults and flying skills comments. then serious four letter insults, personal stuff etc. finally it broke into a collection of "I'm gonna show up at your door and kick your ***." these two rocket scientists then exchanged addresses. Point? taking the GAME too serious is grounds for dweeb classification. these three got Grade A marks.

B.Chatter/griping/whining
Yes, whining is one of the major causes of dweebdom. Griping on an open channel alone isn't the only from mind you. newsgroup postings, junk mail, m-board spam and even country channel makes you dweebfodder. Many times we've all had some Patton wanna-be screaming over the country channel about how we're "losing" because of lack of team work. Folks, this is a game. when you log, the fate of a world rests not on your shoulders. Don't like the situation? Leave the arena, Log off, lead a normal home life, read a book, heck, dare I say even go fly new users. But please, give the newsgroups and text buffer a rest. we DON'T all care about your feelings.

C.Alt monkey-business
Its happened to us all. You're flying along at 20k when dar shows a spit. you turn to investigate only to find this guys is hanging just high enough to be considered a white dwarf star. Naturally he does his B & Z "attempt" but gets roped by any pilot with the ability of say, cottage cheese. Then he runs once he's co-alt (the horror! skill required! let me run like a screaming woman!) If you does this, please, do your fellow pilots a favor, fly only slow-moving, pathetic aircraft like TBF's or val's. this way you'll be easily identifiable.

D.Pointdweebs
OK, you've just finished vulching a 16-year old trash talker for the 11th straight time. He comes on the open channel as you rtb his pelt(s) and tells you how badly he'd waste you one on one (this is of course under ideal conditions. Ideal being your severe intoxication/coma, loss of motor skills in all appendages, blindness and eplipsy and his having 15+k alt.) (see, "alt monkey business") when you respond that while his ability at dogfighting that goony was impressive, your skills probably outmatch his by a slight (several parsecs) margin, They all say the same thing. "Well my score is WAY higher than yours." Kids, just because you have 3 gazillion bomber points (and a full 4 fighter points) does not mean you shall receive the slightest amount of respect from any pilot or organization affiliated with the game of Air Warrior. 1, 2, 3 or, classic. On Gamestorm, compuserve, delphi, or (shudder) AOL. Points mean squat. Always have always will. Unless the database ever gets fixed. which, as I said before, always have always will.

So, Having read this simple treaste on how to be a dweeb, lets hope that you go into the AW world with a slightly better idea of how to make yourself the most mindless, Knuckle-dragging, gerbil-felching, mind-numbing, red-necking, B & Z-ing, Spindweebing, random ID having, good for nothing, 8 line macro-spewing, AlTeRnAtE-CaPs-TyPiNg, AOL subscribing, on command warping, rootenest, tootenest, Edward Everet Hortenest dweeb that has ever played the game


^DL^
>>>

[Montezuma]

I can only hope EA Online will go the way of GEnie...

>>>

The End Of An Error:
DoK's Farewell To GEnie

-------------------------------------------------------------


Date: Mon, 01 Apr 1996 22:41:07 -0800
From: msmiller@world.std.com (Mark S. Miller)
Subject: Spring Hate-Cleaning
Newsgroups: alt.games.air-warrior
Organization: GonZo Engineering

Today a chapter in my life has ended.

I cancelled my accounts on GEnie. All of 'em. I have ripped that vile,
rotting corpse from my backyard - dug it up with a backhoe, and flung it
out on the interstate for the crows and rats to feed on. Then let the acid
rain take care of what's left.

To paraphrase Chief Joseph: "I will pay no more forever."

Like a small handful of Survivors, I signed on to GEnie in 1987 ... to
play AirWarrior. Nine years later, I anxiously await the chance to dance
on GEnie's grave. GEnie was simply too slow and too dumb to live.
Comparisons to dinosaurs are obvious, too easy, and - sadly - wrong. The
big scaly bastards were nature made - and nature couldn't conceive of
anything as far behind the evolutionary curve as GEnie.

Not without help by Man. And not just "man" ... but that lowest form of
the breed known as "Greedy Man." They tried to get wine from a stone, and
it came out smelling strangely like vinegar, and a lot more warm and
yellow than they'd like. And now there are traces of red in it. And small
chunks of entrail which sneak their way down the urinary tract to Freedom
- to escape the ravenous tapeworms which which ooze sulphuric acid from
every inch of their length, and gnaw away at GEnie's innards with razor
sharp jaws.

The big boot of The Future stomped the living snot out of GEnie. No ...
that's not quite right. It wasn't The Future that killed GEnie ... it was
the present. For a brief moment they were high times because GEnie was The
Only Game In Town. We lived on GEnie ... and GEnie lived on us. And they
gloated about it ... treated customers like used air-sickness bags ... and
thought they could get away with it. And for a while they did.

But Time is a cruel muther, and eventually Time catches up with things
that deserve to die and puts them in their place. And it doesn't say
"pretty please, may I?" first. It smacks the thing upside the head with a
2x4, saws it's legs off, and chains it's testicles to the floor - to keep
it in its place.

It'll take a while to get GEnie out of my system. I'll wax nostalgic any
time I smell rotting flesh, or see a truck-struck skunk on the highway.
But it'll pass, and the world will be a slightly better place - though I
doubt anyone will notice.

        -DoK

>>>

[Montezuma]

A previous goodbye...

>>>
From: Jonathan Baron (bluebaron@kesmai.com)
Subject: Re: Fond farewell to dos  
Newsgroups: alt.games.air-warrior
View this article only
Date: 1997/02/05
 

Folks had taken to calling it the DOS host.  Better than legacy I
suppose, as a legacy is something of significant value that you leave
behind for the next generation.  This Air Warrior host, one that Macs,
Amigas, and IBM PCs could fly in, had its final night of public
operation last evening because its value had past.  Obsolete is a word
for something meaningful only to the previous generation, and it's not a
term a company would use to describe its product.  So DOS or legacy
would have to to.

Several generations of Air Warrior players turned out for this final
night of the DOS host.  We flew in a terrain that had its debut in March
of 1991, but many of the pilots there had been flying the game long
before that.  

It showed in the fights.  I was with a low flight, freshly airborne, as
an enemy group flew overhead and executed crisp split-s dives onto us.
We all went vertical at the same instant to deny the attackers the
nose-to-tail geometry they sought.  You never see this on AOL - not
yet.  It's difficult to explain the rush of that - facing folks who know
what they're doing with similarly clue endowed allies.  Not so long ago
it was a nightly ritual for me, and an excitement that began before I
logged on, and followed me into sleep.  You were entering the place
where the finest sim pilots in the world flew.  The rivalries, tensions,
exhilaration, and bonds that form from that have no equivalents
elsewhere in life after a decade or two of adulthood has past.

While the dogfighting was keen, the radio traffic was nostalgic.  Folks
checking in on channel one, many of whom had not flown together in
years, such as the guy on my wing - Killer, formerly one of our finest
and best loved players, formerly of ICI, currently of IMagic Online.
Talk turned to folks who weren't there, some of whom can exist now only
in our memories - an odd feature of an activity dating back ten years.

Near midnight we formed up over the center of the world - pilots of all
three countries circling and forming on my wing for one final flight.
All within guns range, nobody firing a shot.  We flew over to a distant
main airfield and pushed our planes forward into a last dive.  As our
aircraft flew earthward, we said our goodbyes over the radio: some comic
old curses referencing long ago game snafus, some heartfelt farewells.
Killer and I got on the phone afterward and talked old times until 2.

   Jonathan
>>>

[Montezuma]

Today EA shut it down.

Farewell Air Warrior.  

In a lost corner of the vast reaches of cyberspace, the ghosts of mustangs, spits, and 109s will fight eternally over iron bottom sound.

[Horn]

Originally posted by Montezuma:
Today EA shut it down.

Farewell Air Warrior.  

<S>

but I guess it was time to go....

LongHorn
#4495

[Sikboy]

Given the influx of AWer's since the day this thread ended, I thought some might want to take a look and say GOOD-BYE to the game. Sort of like a wake.

-Sikboy (#2214)

[Venom]

So sad, I can't believe it's gone and I missed the whole thing.

That game will be missed!

(salute)

Venom

[Sikboy]

With yet another influx of ex-airwarrior types, I thought I'd bring this back up to the top.

-Sikboy

[gofaster]

Thanks for doing that.  I got a kick out of the "Monkey" story and Scavenger's diaries, then and now.  I had even read his "There I Was" bio about his involvement in the Atlas missile program. I haven't  found anything on AH that's nearly as entertaining as his stuff.

[TheFox]

Extract from an article on AW3 written by long time AW and AH pilot  Tjay


‘Lead rolling’. The whine of the J72 reaches a crescendo and I release the brakes. 125kts, raise the noise, and a couple of seconds later the F86 is airborne. Gear up, stick coming back to contain the rapidly building airspeed, and power reducing to 93%.

‘Two rolling’. Looking back over my shoulder I can see my wingman ‘Fox’s Sabre gathering speed. On this narrow runway this way is safer – but less satisfying - than a conventional pairs takeoff.

‘Turning right zero four five. We’ll go for thirty two thousand to start with.’ Another glance behind shows Fox banking right to cut the corner and a minute or so later his Sabre slips smoothly onto my right wing

Radar had two Mig 15s just north of the river and it is possible we will actually see some combat this time – PL forces have been showing considerably more aggression in the past few weeks.

Fox sees them first. ‘Two bogies, one o’clock co-alt.’ Almost certainly our ‘dates’ but not yet positively identified. I start a turn to the North to gain some more altitude, but the two dots, now clearly two Migs,  are closing very rapidly into the shapes of  two very fast moving Mig 15s. A hard, level reversal sees us meet the challenge head on – just. The 15s pass a couple of hundred feet above our canopies at a closing speed of nearly 900 knots.

Dammit, we’ve been bounced!

Our turn has bled vital energy, so I extend to the East in shallow dive. But the Migs, having gained the initiative aren’t ready to give it up. Already they are in a hard port turn and in a moment will be in hot pursuit. One minute into the engagement and we are already on the back foot. I curse myself for underestimating their speed.

‘Going high left,’ Fox calls, calm and capable in a crisis. Out of the corner of my eye I see the undersides of the Sabre’s wings as it snaps upwards. That manoeuvre dictates  the shape of the combat. With the airspeed passing 350 kts, I turn gently right, still in a shallow descent. The Migs follow, cutting the corner, still glued together. I’ve lost sight of Fox and have about 3 seconds left before I am in deep toejam.  Come on man! The intake of the lead Mig looks like the gaping maw of a hungry shark. At the very moment I smack the throttle shut and pop the air brakes, I see the flash of Fox’s wings as he drops neatly onto the second Mig’s six.  A half second enternity later,  the silver Mig staggers, pitches up, rolls inverted and falls away, streaming brown smoke.

I am vaguely aware of Fox’s victory yelp over the RT. I’m in a hard right turn, the Sabre buffeting and shaking as I ride the edge of the stall with the throttle fully forward, desperately trying to deny my pursuer the angle he needs for a guns solution. One slight twitch on the stick will result in a spin and me an my Sabre being served up on a plate. Looking back, I am just in time to see the Mig slide underneath my tail – his extra speed forcing an overshoot. Yes! Stick hard left and back, head swivelling, hope soaring. But the Mig pilot is too canny to fall for the classic barrel roll atttack – especially with Tuffy now looming large in his mirrors. By the time I pick him up off my left wing, he has rolled into a near vertical dive and is heading North.  

Fox is also on the way down, but just as I am about to call him to break off, he susses that that a northerly heading on the wrong side of the river, not much  fuel, and an altimeter unwinding in a blur is bad news. Reluctantly, the Sabre peels off upwards in a long curve.

‘Teejay Flight is rtb one in the bag’, I call on the open frequency, swinging the nose down and round onto two one zero, throttled well back to let my wingman catch up.
 
‘Way to go, ‘Fox’.

‘My pleasure boss,’ comes the slightly smug reply.
I am not so happy. I’ve just taken us into an engagement that could have turned really nasty, haven’t fired a shot, and my wingman has had to save my bellybutton and gets a kill into the bargain. At least I am alive to fight another day.

Reality slowly reasserts itself. The coffee on the desk in front of me is cold, the phone is flashing to tell, me I have missed two calls, and the cat is giving me one of her ‘Diner’s late again’ looks. I take a quick look around the room, stretch to ease the tension in my neck and concentrate once again on my computer screen. There’s still the approach and landing to do and my friend Bryan, keeping immaculate formation with me from the spare bedroom of his ranch house on the other side of the Atlantic, will die laughing if I spread it all over the runway.

Welcome to the world of on-line flight simulation.

copyright  Tony (Tjay) Jones



Fox
Krait Squadron

[killnu]

punt    sorry, couldnt help myself:p ]
~S~

[flyingaround]

Originally posted by Nwbie
NwBie
Black Widows

Black Widow ewwwwwwwwwwww............

-Lute III/JG26 9th ST WidowMaker

[guttboy]

GREAT THREAD!!!

Brings back fond memories.....I miss the days of crewing a B17 and playing "DEATHSTAR" over CZ or BZ territory!

Do I miss AW?  Well having played it from AOL days til it died......NO...I have fond memories of a great past.

AH is my home now and will be til the day I cant move the throttle or joystick!

Great to bring back the memories guys!!!!

TG12
TIGER Squadron CO....From AW and AH

[NUTTZ]

YUPPERS, I entered the CON as -WN- the most feared Shill ( next to -MZ-,-CL- ( awsome A-26 Pilot) and left the CON in a white streached limo with Decom and the newest member of the 33rd now known as NUTTZ:)

Raise our Shill banner on the flagpole will ya? BTW was your Iced tea alittle on the "tart" side???? LOL -SN- allmost got the shills and the 33rd group thrown out of the hotel,LOL. I still remember Arc's face, as he was approached by the hotel's security with -SN- in tow with a face full of Gravy, mashed potatoes and peas.

Hey Frank, wheres my plane ride ya Putz? And my daughter is PISSED she still hasn't got a ride!! YO! you ready for a BBQ at the new home? bring your trunks ( optional) for the Hottub!!!!!!

And Call me or i'll start crank calling that sweet honey you married:)

NUTTZ

Originally posted by Arrow
This one will lack meaning to most here on this thread.  Some guys like old MZ will get it as he was part of what I think was the greatest rivalry in AW History. 33rd vs Shill.   Hell our rivalry included a food fight at the 1997 Con in Houston Tx.  

A SALUTE TO OLE ARC

'Twas the night before Christmas, when all through Kesmai land
Not an aircraft was stirring, not even in C-land;
The stockings were hung by the fighthers with care,
In hopes that ole Arc soon would be there;

The pilots were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of fighter-kills danced in their heads;
with Lucyboots in her kerchief, and Da Lemming in his cap,
The 33rd just settled down for a  short combat nap,

When out on the tarmac there arose such a clatter,
We sprang from our bunks to see what was the matter.
Away to the window we flew like a flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.

While Europe was covered with new-fallen snow,
The Pacific awash in a warm winters glow,
When, what my wondering eyes should report,
But a miniature Buff, and eight tiny escort,

With a little old pilot, so lively and spark,
we knew in a moment it must be ole Arc.
More rapid than Spitfires his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name;

'Now,TAC! now, SLOTH! now, BURN and SWOOP!
On, EZ! on ARROW! on, VANCE and  you OOPS!
To the top of the tower! to the top of the wall!
Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!'

As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky,
So up to the hanger-top the coursers they flew,
With the sleigh full of gifts, and Good ole Arc too.

And then, in a twinkling, I heard in the sky
The roaring and growling of each little Ki.
As I drew in my hand, and was turning around,
Down from the sky Ole Arc came with a bound.

He was dressed  in a flightsuit, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all tarnished with oil and soot;
A bundle of gifts he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a private just opening his pack.

His eyes -- how they twinkled! his dimples how merry!
His cheeks were like roses, his nose like a cherry!
His droll little mouth was drawn up like a bow,
And the beard of his chin was as white as the snow;

The stump of a pipe he held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke it encircled his head like a wreath;
He had a broad face and a little round belly,
That shook, when he laughed like a bowlful of jelly.

He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,
And we laughed when we saw him, in spite of ourself;
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
Soon gave us to know we had nothing to dread;

He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
And filled all the stockings; then turned with a jerk,
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up to his plane he arose;

He sprang to his buff, to his scorts gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But I heard him exclaim, ere he flew out of sight,

'HAPPY CHRISTMAS TO ALL, AND TO ALL A GOOD-NIGHT'.



( This poem was composed in December of 1996, Keep that
in mind when you read Bean's statement below.)

ARC I think I can speak on behlalf of all of us here.

It has been six long months since I began flying Air Warrior, at about the
same time you formed the squad. I was quickly drawn to the way that you,
Oops, Wlvee and the others enjoyed the game. Your cyber friendships
expressed over the radio made the game enjoyable for myself and I am certain
everyone in the game. We have seen other Squadrons come and go. We have seen
other pilots come and go, but what you have created will be forever in our
hearts.

I enjoy the pleasent memories. Tanking to A82 with EZ and VANCE. Having you
taxi a badly damaged B17 halfway across B-land with probably the whole squad
at the time inside, only to be vulched feet from B84 (I think). I can still
see the laughter rolling across the screen from that one. I enjoy the
thought of the pleasent memories that are sure to come.

In this holiday season I wish you and the fellow 33rd (yeah Bandito wether
you like it or not your a member by default), a very Happy and Safe Holiday
with Gods Blessings.

You started this all.

Thank You

BEAN & the Rest of the 33rd