Air Warrior spam hole

[AKIron]

All this AW talk brought back too many fond memories. Had to load up the old Amiga version. Here's a link:
look for Airwarrior v2.9c

Of course you'll need an Amiga Emulator or an Amiga.

[BOOT]

At first when I read my nice little letter from EA.com, my first thought was...

Another Tear falls from heaven...

Someone posted on the AW boards a thread titled "A Tear Falls From Heaven" referencing to Scav... This was posted when EA decided they couldn't afford the volunteer help in the game any longer...

Today... I bet Scav has a great cheshire cat grin on his mug...

EA.com Shot themselves in the foot...
And we are all in another game, A Game that is everything that we wanted AW to be... We are together having fun, laughing, cutting up, cutting down, and ridiculing each other...

Scavengers Spirit Lives in Aces High...
<salute Terry>
BOOT

[Don]

Damn Boot, well said and well done <S>

[Ratbo]

<S> Scav.

We'll never forget ewe.....

-W

[Montezuma]

Thanks for posting that Arrow.  Did you save the secret photo of LPN?

...

Today in the Spam-Hole we have something unpleasant.


A LUFTWHINE BEFORE ITS TIME:

This luftwhiner has picked a charming name for him self.   My favorite part is where he threatens to go play another game with ‘unfavortisum’ like Fighter Duel.  I bet this guy plays AH now, I wonder which of the luftwhiners he is?

>>>

From: nazi (nazi@abcs.com)Subject: Fake AW World Newsgroups: alt.games.air-warrior
Date: 1996/02/19


Anyway, the reason I don't play Air Warrior is because I don't
like handicapping.... Those people who take out the me262 ave a
billion excuses... here are some of them.....
  "well it upsets the ballance of the game"
  "who cares, they didn't make that many or fly that many of em in the
real war".... I could go n but.. for one if it upset the ballance that
much then we would have lost the war back in 1945... another is
the numbers used in the war... sure they was low, and they did,t use
massive numbers...they made like over a 1000 of them, and used a lot
less... so they take it out of the main theater...bulls--t... there
wasn't that many Ki-84's and N1k! georges used in Japan, but they are
sure included in Air Warrior....  some of the whine babies cry about
certain planes... so they're gone..
[edit HO rant]
  You know there are 10-15 guys that play on this Air Warrior muliti
player on CRIS Delpi gENI etc.. they all brag about themselfs,, and
call newcommers "DWEEBS"... it's like they are saying to those so
called dweebs.. you have been playing a game... and you are not used
to how a REAL plane flies....
  Making the me262 accelertate slower would ake it less lethal.. and
giving it at 40% fuel load would make it more althentic (Germany was
starving for fuel).. but then again who cares.....
    Once someone makes a online-net multi-player (who isn't Japanses
funded and requests the best Japanses aircraft have  100 mph speed
added to make him look good) simulator that is the most althentic it
can be for the time and has no wimp hadicaping... EVERYONE but  the
whine baby sisies will be playing it... no giving one country the
best of thier best and giving the other countries the middle of the
road stuff... it's either all have avg or all have the best they had
when the war ended....no hicken toejam favortisum for one country
because they like it better.
        Thats why I don't play the FAKE game... I am not the whine
baby... I have never played it on CRIS-Delphi-gENI etc and got killed
and making excuses.. I know Iwould be no good at the FAKE game....
    Call me names like you wish... and I hope you all have fun.
 I knwo for a fact, that (maybe fighter duel[WW2 Online, Il2]) when a unfavortisum flight-sim is made to play multi player,, none of the people playing this fake AW will be used to the real world, and having someone handicap it for them ...and I guarrentee none of them will be able to take me (or some of those so calles dweebs) down in a one on one dogfight....
   I hope none of those tweezer necks get mad at me,,, I'm real scard
of em... GULP!

  NAZI            

>>>>>

[DamnedBuzzard]

[
    Once someone makes a online-net multi-player (who isn't Japanses
funded and requests the best Japanses aircraft have  100 mph speed
added to make him look good)


Man do I remember that. Bulletproof zekes with laser cannons. It didn't last long , but there was a short period of uber zekes and the whinin (mine included) was deafening  

[Montezuma]

Spam hole presents:

1994 AW Con report by Voss.  AH, WB, and WW2OL players might recognize attendees...

>>>
The '94 Con

...was in D.C., organized by Moggy (this was before he was @kesmai).

It was also the last Con before the community was sundered by the
creationof CK/WB.

Anyway, it was REAL late on Saturday night. Everyone still up was in
various stages of inebriation, ranging from really to drooling
incapacitation.

Snail gets it into his head that we should go into the HT Pac arena
(this was when the NR guys still flew HT) and close A:14, the main A
airfield. This required landing 72 bombs on the strip within 5
minutes.

Well we all thought this was a fabulous idea, one of the ongoing
entertainments that weekend was torturing the HT dweebs in every way
possible. Wolfie (who really is attached at the hip to Dead Duck, you
never see the two more than 5 feet apart)  had us all in tears earlier
that day by going to a busy HT airfield, organizing the dweebs into
going with him on a mission, then taking a 17 and dropping the bombs
the instant everyone took off. Of course, he and they would all be
killed, and end up back in the ready room. They'd all start asking
what the hell had happened, people were guessing that there were FPs
or something outside...this went on for like twenty minutes, every
time they went up he'd take the 17 and blow them all
up again. People were literally on the floor in tears laughing.

Snail is like an amazing character. Really big guy, if you ever meet
him, do NOT shake his hand unless you put on steel-reinforced gloves
first. Also real animated, an animation that grows exponentially as he
drinks. By three AM, he's always telling these great jokes, but you
unless you have a death wish you stand no closer than 6 feet- as the
telling involves lots of arm-swinging and body gyrations that could
easily dent the armor on an M1A1.

So we start assembling ourselves on the machines around the room. I'm
on DD's machine, and he has the sound card routed into this like 500
megawatt amp, driving these obscenely large speakers and a
gut-wrenching sub-woofer. This would turn out to be VERY key.
Winchester, my buddy from Raleigh, is nine sheets to the wind-
completely unable to do anything useful but sit next to me and gabber
in this pseudo-english- you know, the kind that involves no
consonants.

Assassin is gunning for me. As I looked around the room, I just had to
grin. The guys driving the 17's were all legends. Hitech was sitting
next to Snail, across the room from me. There was Kite, Grok, Twist,
Killer, Cal, NoBaddy...a few others were gunning.

We take off, and start our climbout, and everyone is just yelling and
joking and throwing stuff back and forth across the room. Snail is in
prime form- he can barely sit in his seat for more than 5 seconds
before he stands up and starts yelling all sorts of directions that
everyone is patently ignoring- like this crew needs any directions on
how to do anything. Then, bad guys start coming over and sniffing out
what all these markers are doing in one sector. Every time a bad guy
even crosses into our sector, Snail stands up and starts flailing his
arms about, pulling his hair, and screaming "WE'RE ALL GONNA
DIEEEEEE!!!!!" I nearly fell out of m seat laughing when I looked
across at him- Snail was funny enough, but what was really cracking me
up was watching Dale (HT), the ever-phegmatic engineer,
who was just sitting calmy in his seat, cigarette hanging out of the
corner of his mouth, and looking up at Snail with this massively
sarcastic "what the %^&* is your problem?!?" look.

I found a job for 'Chester- I told him every time I yell "ENGAGEMENT
VOLUME!", he's to turn this little volume nobby thing on the amp.
Which I did, every time a bad guy got within guns range. He'd crank
the volume to 7 or so, Assassin would start blasting away, I'd start
screaming "AHHOOGA AHHOOOOGA DIVE DIVE DIVE DIVE" - all the while,
DD's stereo is cranking decibels high enough to shatter glass.

After some tribulations, we're closing on A:14, amazingly enough we're
still in formation. Snail is losing it completely, he's frothing at
the mouth, still screaming though he's lost his voice completely, and
the directions themselves have lost any semblance of meaning.

Finally, we're doors open, I'm in the bombsight, everyone is yelling,
and I  grab 'Chester, shake him a bit, look him in the eyes and yell
"MAXIMUM ENGAGMENT VOLUME!!!" He cranks the amp to 10...bombs
away...everyone is calling bomb drops...then the bombs start hitting.

Folks, we're talking 80 some-odd bombs smashing into A:14, and DD's
stero is so loud that the tables are shaking...the WALLS are
shaking....all you can hear is BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM...it
seemed to go on forever, and what little part of my brain that was
still functional was wondering at what point the SWAT team is going to
come bursting through the door to stop what can only be a massive
terrorist attack.

Best thing was, we DID it;-) As far as we could tell, every single
bomb had gone straight down the center of the strip. An hour or so of
laughing later, we all stumbled off to bed, ears ringing, hair
standing on end. Was cool.

Voss
>>>

[Montezuma]

DoKtor GonZo, OrIgInaL CaMpEr!

>>>

THE BLOOD PIG

This was going to be great: two gunned F/A-26's attacking A3.

TANGO CIRCUS (aka TC) was piloting the first ship, with DoK as his gunner. Flush Garden was piloting the second, with Cap'n Trips gunning.

They launched from C2 and set course around the Westward mountain and a shallow climb. They wanted to be at about 3000 feet when they came around the mountain and the A's saw them. All went according to plan - they turned the corner and enterred the Valley of Death at exactly 3000 feet. The could see that the A's were just about off of radar to the North. They were starting a large raid on B-land. A3 was practically undefended.

"Lets go," TC said ... and started the F/A-26 down. Both ships quickly gathered speed and A3 was coming up fast.

"I'll take the West ack, you take the East," TC called over the radio to Flush. Flush responded with a quick "rgr."

A3 was now in sight, they could make out the dots where the acks were. "All guns forward," DoK called. TC and Flush were on their bomb runs and it would be up to the gunners to suppress planes taking off until the ack was killed. Trips and DoK jumped to their lower turrets and tracked the A3 take-off spot.

Both ships were now just about at the release point when a Zero appeared at A3. "FIRE," DoK yelled. Trips and DoK opened up at the edge of their range at the Zeke which had just started to taxi. They saw hits on the plane just as TC and Flush both called "Bombs away" and pulled up into chandelles to avoid the AAA.

In quick succession the kill messages for the two ack-acks and the lone Zeke appeared on the screen. A set of "HAR!"'s errupted on the radio as the F/A-26's cranked around to land. This was the tricky part. The pilots had to land in direct line about 150 yards behind the take-off spot. They were vulnerable during this stage because they were going too slow to manouever much.

TC and Flush dropped flaps and gear and executed break turns to get into the right pattern. TC touched down first and hit the brakes, Flush was down seconds later. As they inched their way up to the "sweet spot" behind the runway, that same Zero appeared again. The gunners openned up first and killed him in seconds.

By now both planes were side-by-side behind the A3 take-off spot. All turrets were aimed forward, plus the pilot's guns. That made 24 .50 calibre machine guns bore-sighted down the runway.

The A's were starting to die up at B1, so soon they would be trying to take off. The crews of the F/A-26's waited impatiently. But not for long. Soon A's started popping up from the take-off spot. They must have been deciding on a plan inside the field. All guns openned up and the A's dropped like turds out the back of a galloping horse.

Being A's, they kept trying to take off. And they kept getting shot down. Usually before getting 100 yards down the runway. A few started trying to turn off the tarmac the instant they got on the field. This got them out from in front of the main guns, but the turrets then followed them and they were soon quickly killed.

The A's tried taking up a B17 with a tail gunner, but it was no match for the firepower of 2 A26's. The A's now started screaming on the radio about what was happening at their base. This just made the folks in the F/A-26's break out into hysterical laughter. A3 was now in complete turmoil. Planes were dying on the runway almost as fast as they appeared, the few that managed to escape the runway were struggling to stay aloft long enough to get a shot at the two F/A-26's before the gunners did them in.

The A's did eventually hit on the idea of taking off from some field other than A3 and attacking the parked bombers from above. But decades of inbreeding caused them to auger in during their firing runs before being able to register a fatal hit. And, of course, it never occured to them to bring bombs.

Ammunition was now running low, and it looked like a good time to try to break for home. So TC and Flush cranked up their engines. As they sped along gathering speed, they noticed that the planes would not get off the ground. The wings had taken so much dmage, that they were now useless.

"Damn, wings shot to toejam," TC said.

"Looks like we drive home," DoK replied.

So the two F/A-26's reduced throttle and started driving back to C2. It was a long drive, but they had plenty of fuel and many, many scalps to get back to base with. A few A's tried to follow, but most fell to either the top turret gunners or to their own galactic stupidity.

It took almost 20 minutes, but eventually the two newly christened "Blood Pigs" made it back to base. The four pilots and gunners were all laughing so hard over the devestation and chaos they had caused, they had to log off for half an hour to collect themselves.

Once tanks and FlakPanzers came onto the scene, BloodPigging became far less prevalent. Once in a while you'll still see one - usually parked on a carrier, waiting for an unsuspecting dweeb in a Zeke to take off.
>>>

[Seeker]

Oh yeah  

[Montezuma]

Spandau flys in BIGWEEK and reaches an altered state.

>>>
From: Brian Nolen (briann@cyberlynk.comm)
Subject: Bigweek Debreif, 6/12/97

This is another after action report from the Bigweek training sessions.

It's been about 20-30 minutes since I logged off the site.  I'm still
shaking.... Got in on the first try.  I'd copied down the locations of the
Messcherschmitt units, hoping that I'd see one of those on the breifing
map.  No, I wound up in a FW unit again.  The only reason that I didn't log
out and try again was the breifing officer.  Moggy.  For the chance to fly
with Moggs, I would gladly put up with with a damn Focke Wulf.

The breifing room watermelon chat was mostly focused on beer, and Moggy's lack of
same... His name for our gruppen, Die Sheiskophs.  Somehow appropriate...
If we were actualy flying according to the scenario notes, as we were
supposed to, we were III/Jg11, armed with FW-190a4 butcher birds.

Time lagged on and on, delay after delay waiting for the order to launch.
Anxiety was rising in me each passing minute.  At 7:30 local I was going to
have to log so that I could use my phone for a long distance tuck in of my
kids.  Finaly came the announcement, "Allied Fighters Launch", and after
ten minutes of eternity we got the go ahead.  

Engine on! tune radio to channel 999, begin take off roll, pitchup, tuck
gears, climb!  We were aloft, winging to do battle with the enemys of the
Fatherland!  The roar of my wingmate's engines was loud in my ears, the
rumble of my own radial a feeling in the bones more than a sound.

It was a long climbout to the coast, and a turn to follow it.  Before the
first allied counters appeard, there were 68 Luftwaffe counters up.  How
many of the 110s carried gunners I have no idea.  I guessing that we had
maybe 70 to 80 people up for Luftwaffe.  About half way to the coast, the
first Allied counters began to appear on the extreme zoomout of dar.
Three, four, and still we climbed, headed west.  We came to the coast, the
channel was clogged with enemy counters.  Sixty five, all within a few
sectors of each other.  III/Jg11 was part of the vanguard, the spearhead,
the shield of the Reich!

We turned south west along the coast, the Allied counters creping closer.
We got to a sector line and turned west.  Suddenly, Moggy announced dar
contact with a Mustang.  My pulse began to quicken.  This is it.  Battle
was about to be joined!  We were several hundred, maybe a thousand feet
higher than the escorts.  Before long, dar began to be overwhelmed with
light blue notes of P51s and P47s.

The cold chill of terror crept into my bones.  I've never seen that many
enemy aircraft in one place ever before.  How would I survivve long enough
to make a run on a buff!  Well, no time like the present. "Tally-ho! In we
go!" I shouted over the radio.  I rolled my bird, and put her into a dive
toward the allied formation.  An american pilot, vdnsr, by his CPID was the
first to fall. Then Baldi, another yank must have ripped a wing, he
crashed, or was dumped.  I redded out, then came to.  Moggy was hit, going
down in flames.  Then I spotted two B17s flying close.  I hade huge amounts
of speed, and overtook them.  Pinged both in my pass and continued on.
Lined up on another buff, bullets from enemy bombers impacting onto my
airframe.  My guns spoke again, and again.  WHAM!!! The left wing of the
B17 snapped off at mid-wing in a horrific fireball. KILL!  No time to
announce it, there were too damn many people around me with Stars on their
birds. I banked left and climbed, another bomber, 500 yards away.  I fired
again, closing the gap, my cannons making the airframe shudder, scrubbing
speed off her.  WHAM WHAM WHAM  the impact of .50 cal shells hitting my
bird.  Then my engine explodes into flames and I'm spinning from the fight.
 Cockpit jammed, flames all around.  Can't bail out.  Every pilots worst
nightmare.  My altitude is dropping fast, flames are starting to come into
the cockpit with me, the cockpit is still jammed.  My flight suit begins to
smoulder, I feel the heat charring my flesh.  There is but one thing left
to do.  I fumble the Webbley revolver from its holster, a gift from my
cousin in the Wermacht, a souvenier of Dunkirk.  I thumb back the hammer,
muzzle to my temple.....courage, courage, pull the trigger. PULL THE
TRIGGER!  Damnit! Pull the trigger!  BANG

To drop out of character for a bit.  I've never been so scared as when I
saw half my display light up with allied fighter icons.  Not even when I
was robbed while working at a 7-11 one night.  I have no idea what my pulse
got up to, well into three digits per minute I figure.  Cold chills were
running up and down my spine, my resperation was off the scale, and I would
have been hyperventelating before long.  Then "CLICK" this is why you're
here, do your job.  There was no room for terror, it was down to business.

No amount of arena fighting ever prepares you for the first sighting of the
enemy in a scenario situation. I hit that altered state.  I _was_ in the
cockpit of a FW190a4.  It's well over an hour later now, and I still have
the aftereffects of the adrenelin.  It came as a shock when I saw the kill
recorded message, but since I didn't see an explosion, I have to assume
that Jill^ was dumped.  Not even a chute like you see against offline
drones.  She just wasn't there anymore.  No amount of arena fighting can
prepare you for the sudden shock of being shot down, just when you are
about to triumph over another foe.  At the range I was firing, watching the
tracers go into the silouette, I had to have been damaging her enough to
make her easy meat for another pilot later.

Zippo, if you're reading this, I salute your gunnery skill. (CPID Zipp@ if
I recall correctly)

To my fellows in the Flying Tigers, WWI on AOL, SEE WHAT YOU'RE MISSING?
(For those of u in the newgroups, they get my breifing room capture, and
the .cam file of the fight.  Even if it take a long time to load up at
14.4... Ain't E-mail wunnerful?)  Rationaly, I knew I was dead when I
watched the tape, and I was the only German in the middle of the bomber
stream.  All those light blue "L"s denoting bombers, one white cross that
was my FW on the dar.  I got the second German kill, and was the second
German killed, after Moggy. (I think)

It was exhilerating, to say the least!  I can't wait for the real thing!  I
won't even mind being saddled up in a 190.  At least under partial
realisim, under FR, I'd have augered several thousand feet at least twice
on climbout...

And the best thing about dying, was the timing.  Just about when I would
have had to log to call my wife and kids... things work out...

I take this opportunity to salute those I flew with.

Moggy, a legend of the game. RocketMan, nice to fly beside you instead of
in front of you. Trips, whom I only knew by reputation till now. Mayhem, if
you're the same chap I've flown beside on AOL, you did our B land pilots
proud today.  Runs from drones, Runny, we're on opposite sides in the
areana, glad to wing with you for a change. Root, Kid, VeeJay, I've never
met you before today, I think that I shall remember you for years to come.
Midnight Sam Spade, one of the pilots actualy from Germany, it was a
pleasure to meet you here, after meeting you last time in an Allied
breifing room...

To all my fellow Luftwaffe pilots, to all the worthy foes of the 8th Air
Force...<<SALUTE>>  and there's no way to do that salute justice without
resorting to a post  that would print it in at least 20point letters, and
totaly bugger anyone with a newsreader that don't support that stuff.

Now, on to the real Bigweek.  LET'S GET IT ON!!!!!!!!!

Brian Nolen
SpandauFT
--
Brian Nolen
SpandauFT (SpnFT-AOL)
Spandau (Spand-AWII)
>>>

[Montezuma]

Today, self-admitted dweeb MOSCA (currently augering somewhere in Aces High) joins the ACCS squad and gets his first kill.

>>>

MOSCA BREAKS HIS CHERRY:

Well, there's a story to this one, but honestly I'm just too excited to
make it up. However, about a month ago I made the bold promise to BLAST
THE NAME of MOSCA'S FIRST KILL on alt.games.air-warrior, and also on
bigweek.general. (I also promised cam footage at www.epix.net/~tholts,
but unfortunately that will not be there, because 1) I changed ISPs to
get lower delays and 2) I forgot to turn my gun cam on.)
One cannot make such a bold prediction and then continue to buzz around
like a... fly, constantly bothering everyone without delivering on the
promise, so I've kept my keyboard quiet, done a lot of offline practice,
read a lot, & gotten shot down a lot. I've purposely avoided bigweek,
you guys are more of a veterans group & I respect your posts that read
like nautilus shells, clauses within clauses dwelling on ever smaller
minutae until someone like homer or Sluggo (JackG0504; I got the handle
right this time) busts them apart with a well-placed salvo. But now I am
here.
Anyhow, after stumbling around for almost 3 months, I got an e-mail from
a person known as "Gnatz", who invited me to fly informally with a group
known around these parts as the "ACCS".

(Cut to mosca coming home for dinner. The family is sitting around the
table.)
DAD: You're late.
MOSCA: You know I gotta work late on Sundays. (He sits down & starts
shoveling spaghetti into his mouth.)
MOM: Working on Sunday, it's a sin, mosca. And slow down your eating.
Don't you like my dinner?
DAD: You heard your mother! Slow down! (He reaches over & hits mosca's
hair)
MOM: NO HITTING AT THE DINNER TABLE!
MOSCA: I gotta hurry. I'm flying with a buncha guys tonight down at
[CENSORED]. (a secret base deep in c-land)
DAD: [CENSORED]? Isn't that where that sheep cult hangs out?
MOSCA: It's not a cult, Pop. They're like a gang of really cool guys,
y'know, and....
MOM: A GANG? NO SON OF MINE IS GOING TO JOIN A GANG! OHH, NO, A GANG!
OH, MOSCA, WHAT
           WOULD YOUR GRANDMOTHER SAY IF SHE FOUND OUT?
DAD: ITS THE ACCS, ISN'T IT? I BET THEY'RE A BUNCH OF NICE GUYS! I BET
THEY TOLD YOU THEY'D
          TEACH YOU ANIMAL HUSBANDRY! THEY'RE JUST GOING TO USE YOU FOR
THEIR OWN PLEASURE
          AND LEAVE YOU IN THE GUTTER WITH A BAD CASE OF SCRAPIE! (He
reaches over and really slaps
          mosca's hair again)
MOSCA: He hit my hair! I work a long time on my hair and what does he
do? He hits it! You don't understand! All you ever
               do is criticize everything....


Well, you get the picture. That's the only part that I can get to come
out. The rest of it's just stuck. Sorry.

Anyhow, after missing a couple of appointments with Gnatz & Wedgie & the
rest of the crew, I caught up with them last night. I did a lot of
clueless stumbling around, as usual, and finally set my machine on
autopilot & read the part in the manual about how to use the radio (page
96) so's I could hunt'n'peck out a simple "hey, gnatz" (I think it was
"mbaaa"), & we all met at [CENSORED]. At which time I was given an
assignment, a real mission!

I mean lets face it, being a lone newbie in FR is like walking around
unarmed in a bad part of town, looking to pick a fight with the toughest
bullies you can find. Virtually speaking, of course. It's nice to have
some pals to show you how to navigate.

So I get the assignment to take a Hog to, I dunno, some airfield
somewhere, & take out the ack & then just generally keep the place under
submission until, I dunno, until something else happens, I don't know
what, just follow the other guys I guess, & do what they do & act like I
know what I'm doing too; Hey, the Az don't know, I might be a ringer,
right? Just look tough! Anyhow, what's a Hog? Oh. A Corsair. OK. And I
gotta learn, "cc", not "ok".

About halfway there, I wonder where top speed is, & with <esc>a I find
out I have a bomb on board. I'm starting to understand what the plan is
now.

Well, I know most of you've done this stuff thousands of times before,
but it's still all new to me. I follow these guys into this place, the
ack's supposed to be at a refinery, it looks like it's on the other side
of this mountain I see, but I don't think any of us hit it because the
flak is just BOOMING all around me, & I drop the egg & hit the WEP &
pull up to the left over this mountain....

And it looks like some one kicked a hornet's nest, with all these planes
swarming all over! Check the icon colors! Who's who?
There! Red! Oh, man, overshot 'im! Throttle back. Turn. Watch the stall.
Check 6. Check 6 again. Throttle up. Where'd they go? Oh. Everybody's at
6. Immel up? Stall! Catch it, ya dweeb. Spiral, right rudder... there.

And oh, man! right in front of me, at maybe 1000 yards, is an Me109 just
clawing for altitude! But it's just not there for him. He looks like
he's hanging helplessly from the sky on a string, and his belly turns
toward me as I slow down so's not to overshoot & of course get more time
in the saddle, and at just about point blank that Messerschmidt just
goes BOOM! right in front of me! HAAAIIIIIYAAAH! LETS HEAR IT FOR EYE
CANDY!

But there's no time to rejoice! Quick check 6, & up top too for that
matter. There's another! Squeeze.... BOOM! I LOVE IT! TWO FOR TWO, BABY!
(Later I found that I wasn't credited with that one. So what. It felt
like I hit it, so to me, I did.) Circle round, right wing down, look at
the field.... Oh BAY-BEE! Two on the runway! Oh, I been stuck like that
before, payback's a squeak, honey, here comes daddy to even the score....

Of course, here is where eternal dweebdom reasserted itself, as MOSCA
proceeded to auger himself into the runway just ahead of the lead FW. I
just hope he wasn't laughing too hard to take off; but if he was
laughing as hard as I was that guy didn't have a prayer.

I went back to [CENSORED] and got another egg, but morning comes awfully
early around the mosca household & time was running out for fun & games,
& I was really just too excited to get back into it & do it right, &
this time the flak got me. But hey,

>GDI< ,

I saw your Messerschmidt in my dreams all night last night. Thanks.


mosca

>>>

[leonid]

Thanks for the posts.  Great stuff  

[Montezuma]

'Feel the Hate!'  

Here, slug discusses mastering your Hate.  

>>>

Hate?!?  You can't handle the Hate!
By:  Slug


Chris Johnson wrote:
> I'm curious if anybody else has >experienced this Hate-induced loss
> of skill, and whether there are others out there who try to avoid Hate for
> pragmatic reasons?
>
>    Jinx_tigr
>    (aka Chris Johnson)

You can be forgiven for your semantic obfuscation and lack of coherent ontological
perspective.

<<Slug-trans: "what a goober.">>

You have confused anger with hate. It's hard to function intellectually when
you're pissed off. (Know how I know? <G> ) In fact hard to function any-way when you're
angry. Hate is not anger. Anger is an emotional response to real or perceived stimuli.

Hate is an orientation - a way of interpreting information that then shapes the type of
response - not the response itself.

DoK was the master of hate. Many others have come and gone - some have mastered hate -
others have tried and failed.

Here's an example:

ANGER: "I will chase that bastard in the F4 down in my Zero cuz he whacked me while
taking off from the field. I dunno who he is but I'll get him - even though I have no
ammo, no E, no alt and no diddlying hope. GRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR"

HATE: "Ahhh....I see Slug is in the arena. I have studied his usual routine. I know what
airfield he flies from and which plane. I know his favorite merge maneuver. He has
offended me and shall pay mercilessly. I will hunt him coldly and methodically -
turning his Air Warrior time into a living, dying hell from which there is no escape.
And I will smile as I watch him explode in front of my hungry guns."

Does this make sense, Goober? Did I type it s-l-o-w-l-y enough so even you could
understand? Have you always been a butt-munch? Or do you just "play" one on TV? Nice
shirt, by the way. Do you occasionally wear men's clothing for a change of pace?

Hoohahahah...... Muhahahahahah  Let the Slug hating/hunting begin!

Slug -=*TH*=-

DoKtor of Hatology
Butt Munchus Emeritus
>>>

[Seeker]

Slug is guud

[J_A_B]

Keep these posts comming, I love reading this stuff.

I hope AH lasts long enough to build its own "mythology".  By the looks of things it certainly will.


J_A_B