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Also in the Cascade Times News.... <g>
miscellaneous prose by various listsibs
last news posted 4/25/99

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Meditation Drabble by Sis
Really Stupid Fantasies by Hephaistos

Meditation Drabble
by Sis

"Sandburg," Jim said irritably, dropping his keys in the basket, and shrugging off his coat. "What are you doing sitting here in the dark?"

His roommate cracked open one eye. "Hey, I'm meditating - you've seen me do it before. And there's candles - why should the dark bother you anyway?"

"For one thing, I'm starving. For another, we watch that program on Monday nights. I thought you liked it too." Jim switched on the kitchen lights and started rummaging around in the cabinets.

"I do like it - that's why I'm sitting here. It's been pre-empted."

Jim straightened up and slammed a pot on the counter. "Well, that's just great. But that doesn't mean I want to spend the evening watching you meditating. What are they showing instead?"

"You know that sci-fi show. The one with the babe."

"Oh well, it could be worse I guess, but *the babe* as you put it, can't beat the Aussie on the cop show. Although neither one of them is a redhead," he muttered as an afterthought.

"That's what the meditation is about, man. I got this off the Internet - it's like a group push to get them to put the show back on and keep it. You know positive vibes."

Jim nodded his head. "Positive vibes. Like...?"

"You know, just vibes - good thoughts. Pick the show up. Make the guys in charge a little more reasonable. Group think. Channeling the energy that we'd normally be using to enjoy the program, you know when we're grooving along..."

"How about just hoping the other show crashes in the ratings?"

"Jim, this is supposed to be positive."

"That's positive - get the other show out of the way -"

"No, no, that's negative. That would make you *angry.*"

"I'm already angry." Jim said, his voice rising a notch.

"Look, Jim. This is supposed to be a good experience. Why don't you just sit here with me, and we'll try this."

"I draw the line here, Sandburg. I haven't meditated yet, and I'm not going to start over a television show."

"Come on, it'll just take a few minutes. 10 - 15? Don't you want to see if it works?"

"This is weird, Chief. This is *too* weird. I'm taking you out for fresh air next weekend, fishing or something. You're spending too much time on the computer."

"Come on, man, humor me. What have you got to lose? And we can go out and eat afterward."

"You pay." Jim was standing in the kitchen doorway.

Blair opened both eyes, and made a face. "Okay. So long as it isn't over 20 bucks. Now get your ass over here."

Jim sat down in a half-lotus, managing to look extremely put upon. "Okay, what now?"

"Just project. Think about the program. Think about having it on the air. In reality they're showing something else - in your mind, put in what you know belongs there."

"This is stupid."

"Is not."


"You know," Jim said thoughtfully. "One thing about that sci-fi babe - she looks familiar, don't you think?"



"Can we watch a tape of the show later?"

"Jim, geeze, can't you keep a lid on it for five minutes? I can't believe you and Simon think *I* can't shut up."

"All right, all right."



"Excuse me." Jim said, putting his hand on his stomach.

More silence.

"So how long has it been?"

The sound of a hand smacking a forehead. "Man, I really hope it's the thought that counts."

***** Hey, TS fans on Monday. Either render your tube dark, or watch something else but start out the hour with something positive. This has been a trial run - had this been an actual meditation emergency, needless to say we'd be in deep trouble. Since Jim and Blair are the targets and not the participants, we might be okay.


Really Stupid Fantasies
by Hephaistos

(When recently returning by 727 from a wonderful Sentinel weekend -- and TAE IS just as nice and wacky as she seems -- the battery on my laptop died, and I had a lot of time to let my mind wander...)

Jane's 1st Jet-Lag-Stupor Fantasy

"... and the Oscar for Best Original Screenplay goes to -- Jane!"

Jane shuffles up to the podium, a happy but distracted smile on her face. She graciously accepts her statue and looks out at the crowd and cameras equaling approximately 2,000,000,000 people. Her expression turns quite serious.

"Thank you. I could spend this time thanking important people and furthering my career, but instead, I would like to beg of you all, please, please watch The Sentinel on Monday nights at 9 p.m., 8 p.m. Central. Enjoy its characters and its incredible potential. For all of you with the attention spans of gerbils [slight smile here] this program offers at least two car chases, three explosions, and one incredibly stupid testosterone-induced act per episode." Jane bows then, but quickly adds, "Oh yeah, thanks Mom and Dad."

[The ratings for The Sentinel skyrocket, becoming a permanent Monday night fixture for several more years, 7 Days fizzles a slow death, and Dean Valentine, who recalled breaking a chain letter earlier that day, finds himself with a new job introducing B movies at 3 a.m. on TNT.]

Jane's 2nd Jet-Lag-Stupor Fantasy

"Sir," says a Flight Attendent on Air Force One, "we have landed in New Hampshire."

A moment later, the President disembarks, surrounded by Secret Service Agents, and waves genially to the crowd, searching for young women for whom he'll flash his 'special' smile. So distracted by this quest, the President was about to walk into a whittled-down pine branch, sharp and dangerous, jutting from the link fence where it was strategically placed at its ball-busting height (no doubt) by a Pat Buchanan supporter.

"Mr. President," cries a shrill voice from the crowd. "Watch out for the branch! Look down!"

The President looks down and lets out a startled "yipe!", veering away from the stick that had been about to 'Bobbett' him. The Secret Service Agents spring into action, grabbing a character with telltale pine needles sticking out of his pockets. The President immediately makes arrangements to meet with the young woman who just saved his life. Well, his life STYLE, anyway.

"Anything you want, Little Darlin', is yours," he tells her over a cup of coffee in the cordoned off airport lounge.

"All I want, sir, is for The Sentinel to be renewed for at LEAST one more season. Please," the young woman pleads. "It offers a token Babe of the Week each episode... hey, do you like redheads?"

"Do I! I've had nothing but bad luck with blondes and brunettes. Okay! Consider it a done deal," says the President enthusiastically. "By the way, Sweetheart, you got any younger sisters?"

[With the power of the Free World behind it, the ratings for The Sentinel skyrocket, becoming a permanent Monday night fixture for several more years, Star Trek Voyager changes times slots to follow The Sentinel with the hopes of improving its ratings (UPN has become successful enough that it has expanded to a 3-hour primetime line-up like the Big Three), and Dean Valentine's only input ever sought after these days is "Would you like fries with that?"]

Honestly, if you can't share stupid stuff like this with the cascadetimes crew, who can you share it with?

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