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demon.local meet report #1

demon.local / 25 February 1994
By Paola Kathuria

25th February in the year of Jam Doughnut 1994

Dear Ermentrude.

Last evening I went to the Demon meet in London to meet some of the strange people I had met on IRC. Of course, as we have discussed before, I don't use IRC seriously [1] but, instead, am using it to gather information on wild aubergines in the outer regions [2]for that BBC article. So, as I arranged for Clive Hills (@chills) to come pick me up from work and he turned up with Weety [3]. Clive was versant in the mysterious art of Items Placed Just So: a shoulder bag hung set at just the right level, a jacket zip rather unhazardly but impressively left open and a cloud of hair that he told me several times would not grow longer [4]. Weety was tall and quiet and had a carrier bag of sf books and comics. Now this was a man I could relate to.

We arrived at the designated pub fashionably late by two minutes. We walked past by some strange folk near the door and scanned the place for geeks. Weety had noticed a floppy disk sported by the two guys at the door and we returned to inspect them while I hid behind Clive. We were introduced to Mark "Mr Eyebrows" Turner and Oliver ("ah, Oliver", I said meaningfully). Returning with some drinks (having been advised that Bitter Top was less nancyish to drink than shandy by a colleague), we found jim_bob (James Grinter [5]) and his very pleasant flatmate whose name I now forget. Later, ducksnutz "Mr FAQ" (pete@arcangel) and pete@tecc had turned up. Oh, and a man in a dashing black velvet jacket called Harry or Gary.

An hour later, when we were exhausted covering such topics as the plight of the rainforest, the transhuman condition and the mystery of the missing albatros [6], Mark "Rascal-Face" Turner suggested we leave for some nosh. When Mark "No Foreign Muck" Turner walked briskly past the curry establishments near Leicester Sq, some of us knew that something was amiss, especially since we were headed towards Pizzaland. We ended up in some American place and sat down wearily.

I think they talked about computers at the end with the velvet jacket and I resisted the strong temptation to join in. At my end, we talked about QA [7], BS5750 [8], [7], modem.txt [7], [9], the individual's right to freedom of action in private [10]. At my end, after hearing much techno-name dropping, I finally found myself talking about ST:TNG, MUD [11], Richard Bartle and the irrepressible Lorry. We left at 12:30am [12], finding the tube station shut and I wondered how I was going to get home. There's a lot of people in London at 12:30, I can tell you. Two hours later, with the help of night buses and cabs, some of us made it to IRC. With the help of a litre of orange juice I stayed on long enough to get some sense out of the people on #30plus, to thumb through my netgrope phrase book and go through a generally manic phase before collapsing in a heap, falling asleep and dreaming, of all people twasntme [sigh].

So, Ermentrude, it wasn't as scary as I thought it'd be and look forward to the next one [13].

kwis [14].

Paola Kathuria  -*-  ArcGlade Services Ltd  -*-

[1] Duh.

[2] Or is that stale bananas in the inner regions? [shrug]

[3] Apologies, Mr Wilkins, I forget your site name.

[4] I still think you should dye it green, Clive.

[5] All two of them.

[6] I am lying. I couldn't hear most of the time, but I think they were talking about, umm, computers.

[7] And had a good laugh.

[8] Or whatever the fuck it is.

[9] Although after the 5th time it wasn't so funny.

[10] We were talking about naughty gifs, I think.

[11] Give me your e-mail address, Oliver, and I'll get that article I mentioned sent to you.

[12] ?

[13] Anyone like Indonesian food? Melati's on Great Windmill Street is truely divine.

[14] Disclaimer: I was up till 9:30am and I've only had 4 hours sleep.