Please don't forget to read the bulletin board. Enter +read from anywhere.

Roofus Roo, local Kangaroo, got a surprize birthday party Tuesday night. His friends, Wind-Dancer, local Red Panda, KevMan local BiBreed, BarterGarter, localgarter snake, Mavra and Argon, local centaurs, Baradhuli, local Fossa, Tarka, local otter, Austin,local Elastic Coati, Alex. local kitsune,Brenda, local cougar, Kaya, local cetan, Findra, local bunny, Cye, local 50ft 3 tailed Vixen, Penance, local Snowmeow, Jiffy, local Tree squirrel, Lamar, local Rabbit, Fenris,local wolven demigod, Rhea, local falcon cyborg, Skyler, local small winged bunny, Rose, local Raccoon, Gina_Doberman, local Canine Puppet, Ping, local mouse, and Mouser, local Fursnake along with many others joined together in the Rose Garden to celebrate the popular and well liked 'Roo's special day.

The Rose Garden had been decorated with red and blue ribbons and streamers tied to and hanging from the trees and bushes, along with the centerpiece, a large banner reading, "HAPPY BIRTHDAY ROOFUS ROO!" The Rose Garden had everything for a birthday party except party balloons. That oversight was fixed easily by a magic spell provided by Ceralor, local balloon dragon, as everyone who came to the party was changed temporarily into a balloony version of themselves.

Everyone had fun floating and bouncing around, and enjoying a big birthday cake made for Roofus. The friendly 'roo seemed to be quite surprised by the event, and had almost as much fun as his friends did giving him the party. Everyone enjoyed a fun game of Roofus volleyball, and a pick up game of Skyler-basketball left the marsupials victors over the centaurs and macro folks.

Roofus had a good time and thanked everyone for the party. It was great fun, and a good time was had by all giving Roofus a nice surprise.

Local wolf, Fenris died in the Rose Garden earlier this week, the result of a playful tickling gone horribly wrong.

It all started Monday, a typical evening at the Garden. Furs lazing about. Fenris drooling over a Razor picture. A normal evening for a Monday. Then, out of boredom, macrovixen Cye started tickling currently macrocougar Brenda. Brenda started tickling back, and the two got into a tickle fight. It was all out of innocent fun until Brenda pounced onto Cye to continue her tickle-attack. The resulting physics was enough to make Cye teeter and topple over, causing a small earthquake to shake the garden. When the dust finally settled, the result was a good 'Cye-zed' crater where Cye and Brenda landed, Bartergarter's collapsed souffle, a bunch of shaken-up furs, and one pancaked Fenris, who couldn't get out of the way in time.

At first, Brenda and Cye felt really bad for being the cause of Fenris's death (Brenda said it was her first squishing of a fur since becoming macro). Then they became confused when Fenris's ghost exclaimed in excitement, "What a way to go!" He reassured the two macros, saying he has died 326,314 times in the past. It seems that whenever Fenris dies, he finds one of his descendants, possesses their body, and reincarnate. He even said he was completely okay with this.

Still, Brenda and Cye felt bad for squishing him in the first place, so the two made it up to Fenris's reincarnated body (which showed up later in the evening) by giving him a smooch each.

It will be up to Fenris to decide if he wants to hold a funeral/reincarnation party.

After moving north two 'squares' on the map, the fountain that has graced the Rose Garden for years was convinced to return to its home.

According to reports to @Action News, the fountain had become somewhat depressed as no one had paid much attention to it. It hadn't been cleaned for a long time, its filter was clogged, and its pump mechanism was in dire need of service. It was also upset that it seemed to get no respect, and that folks had been doing things to and in it the fountain didn't like.

So, the fountain asked that the following rules be applied to it:

• 1. Peeing in or on the fountain is strictly forbidden (sorry, Gilead).
• 2. No swimming if you're molting, shedding, or changing skin.
• 3. No disposing of criminal evidence in the Fountain.
• 4. Raccoons are free to wash their meals in the fountain, as long as it's not powdered Jell-O.
• 5. Our ban on dam building is not considered unfair to beavers by the SpinDizzy Wizard Staff.
• 6. Giant Just Add Water Monsters are not allowed within sixty yards of the Fountain.
• 7. Dynamite fishing, steel milling, and nuclear testing are strictly forbidden.
• 8. While SpinDizzy authorities have no official stance regarding the existence of a Giant Fountain Sea Monster, any attempt to hunt the alleged beast will be considered a violation of the SpinDizzy Tourist Trap Protection Code.

After compiling and agreeing to the fountain's demands, and giving it a thorough cleaning and tune up, Brenda, local giant cougar and Cye, local 50 foot three tailed vixen, carried the fountain back to the Rose Garden and returned it to its proper place.

So next time you're in the Rose Garden, give the fountain a patpat and let it know how much its presence adds to the place, and how much you appreciate what its flowing waters add to SpinDizzy

Sunday: I rose early, and breakfasted on fruit. After breakfast I launched from pad 19A in my B-series Gemini capsule, and rendezvoused with the Agena-M transfer/jump module that had been put into orbit around the Spindizzy several days before. A quick burn of the transfer engine pushed us out of Spindizzy's orbit, and a few hours later we'd coasted far enough to activate the jump engine. I parked the Agena in orbit around Earth, and entered the atmosphere, gliding on my rogallo chute to a skid landing at the spaceport of the secret Lemur civilization of Madagascar. Phoobia met me there, and after seeing my capsule hauled safely away to the turnaround facility we went to her tree.

Monday: It's traditional for a Lemur returning from space to be given a Fruit Parade through the capital of the secret Lemur civilization. Ravioli-Maniac, the Chief Lemur, let Phoobia and me ride in his Tank of State for the parade. The crowd showered us with fruit, which was nice, except that someone got overexcited and clobbered poor Phoobia with a watermelon from a fourth story window. She was only mildly concussed, and got out of the hospital that same night.

Tuesday: We visited the Lemur spaceport to see how the capsule turnaround was going. While we were there, a tehnician showed us a piece of equipment which resembled nothing so much as a washing machine with the agitator replaced with a Lemur-sized chair. He explained that this was a disorientation tester. Phoobia volunteered to help him collect data. After she was strapped inside and the lid closed, he admitted that it really was a washing machine with a chair where the agitator used to be. He put Phoobia on the spin cycle and we had some fruit while we waited. After her spin cycle Phoobia could only sort of stagger around veering sharply to the right. It was interesting to watch, but made it hard to go anywhere with her. A quick discussion among the techs resulted in them reversing the gearing, and spinning her in the other direction for a while. That evened out the staggering, but now she'd fall over after a few steps, so it really didn't help that much. We finally strapped her onto a gas cylinder cart, and moved her around that way.

Wednesday: We had dinner at Ravioli-Maniac's house. The menu was ravioli and fruit. After dinner we got Phoobia to do her impression of a mime in an invisible box. We turned an empty aquarium over on top of her, and she tapped on the glass and gesticulated until she finally ran out of air and passed out. We let her out then, which sort of spoiled the effect, because if she'd been a real mime we wouldn't have.

Thursday: Since I couldn't stay for Interplanetary Talk Like a Pirate Day, we celebrated it early. After the Piracy Party, Phoobia and I went down to the Lemur spaceport where my Gemini was waiting to bring me back home. Phoobia rode up to orbit with me, where she left the capsule with a strap-on manuevering unit to shepherd the empty second-stage tank into place on the Lemured Orbital Lab, where it will be used for a pressurized chamber. Phoobia stayed with the LOL, while I docked with my Agena and started for home. I arrived in the wee hours of Friday, skidlanding in the dark at Complex 19 here on the Spindizzy.

Thus went my visit with Phoobia. Maybe sometime Phoobia and my other friends from Madagascar might come here to visit.

Shujuki Garrity, local Panther/Cyber and Mecha Pilot, and Argon, local centaur, were chatting about what it's like piloting a Mecha. A Mecha, also known as a 'Gundam' is a large mechanical 'robot' type of machine that has a 'pilot' or operator inside who controls the giant robot's actions and movements.

Although often used for construction and projects that require a lot of power that can be delicately controlled, Mechas are best known for their use as fighting machines. Many are armed with guns, rocket launchers and other weapons.

A number of SpinDizzy residents, including Alicia, local Nine tailed kitsune, own and operate these giant machines. Piloting a Mech takes years of study and training, and doing so is requires a serious commitment on the part of the pilot.

Because a Mecha is operated by a direct link between the pilot's mind and the machine, Argon noted to Shujuki that it was somewhat similar to his own circumstance of learning to 'operate' his centaur body after being transformed into the form after being born human. Argon, always enjoying the opportunity to talk about himself, and what it's like being a centaur, mentioned how piloting a Mecha required a special mindset, just as being a centaur requires a 'Centaur State of Mind'. This induced Shujuki to send him the following list; The Way of the Mechwarrior:

• A true Pilot is never fully 'out of the cockpit', a small piece of his soul is always with his machine.
• The better the pilot, the better the machine,
• It does not matter what the thing is as long as the pilot knows his machine deeply he cannot fail.
• Victory, was it the mechs? no, was it the weapons? No, it was the pilots behind the machine.
• It's not the machine alone that wins victories; it's the pilot and his skills.
• A true Pilot will always think of his machine first and his life second, for it is his machine that guarantees his life.
• Weapons are not the tools of war, merely aids to it; your skills will save you more then a large laser.
• Remember the enemy in front of your guns is usually a decoy, it's his lancemates on the sides you have to worry about.
• When a mech 'dies' it's a costly mistake, when a pilot dies it's a mistake that costs.
• No matter how big your mech, it can always be beaten.
• Though combat is not gentle and soft, treat your mech like it is.
• Tactics may guide you but brains will save you.
• Yes, your leader on the ship may be guiding the mission but it's your life on the line, not his.
• Treat your commanding officer the way you treat a snake, carefully and with respect, remembering that though you may work for it, never trust it completely.
• A mechwarrior has but three sure things in life, always remember them. Combat is an eye blink away. Your lancemates are your family and new parts are NEVER new.
• Trust the techie that fixed your mech as much as you paid him and not more than that.
• Computers lie, a 'perfect startup' is NEVER perfect; always do a manual check.
• Your targeting computer is a moron, the tracking system is off and you’re in your underwear... A bad dream? No, life.
• You can have years of training, but if your soul is not a pilot, then you will fail.
• That ten foot ledge you're on is really THREE feet, the rest is sand.
• Mud sucks, trees get in the way, sand slows you down and ice is dangerous in general. Lava melts and concrete will break, so hope your jump jets hold out.
• Inspect your mech before and after a battle. Who knows what might be stuck to it, like a large bomb or a squad of guys in power armor with a attitude problem.
• Inner Sphere has the mechs, Clan has the weapons and Mercenaries make everything go around.
• Today’s ally-by-contract is tomorrow's annoying blip on your radar, shooting at you.
• Combat rule: Getting hit is a BAD thing.
• Combat rule: Hitting first is good, hitting last is better.
• Combat rule: No matter HOW good your sensors, using your eyes is the best thing.
• Combat rule: for the last time, USE THE FRIGGIN EJECT BUTTON!
• There are three types of Mechwarrior’s: Good, Bad and Davions.

Ok, here's something easy, come up with a caption for the picture to the left. You can click on it for a better view.

Then, just send your caption to argon@spindizzy.org. Please put "caption" in the subject line, and be sure and include your character name. Or qmail your caption to me. @Action News will publish the best ones in the next issue. Heck, we'll probably publish all the responses, so feel free to send in several. Be sure and put 'caption' in the subject line of the email.

Welcome to latest edition of Bearing up, the advice column where Ba'ar (That's me!) has answers to your most challenging questions.

Dear Bearing Up,
I love power gaming. it is fun to make others cower before my massive weapons and unbeatable fighting skills. But for some reason, no one here likes me. Should I chop off their heads so others will know they better be friends with me?
Signed, Mega_Death!

Dear Mega_death!:
As you are a powergamer, furs are intimidated by your presence. The best recommendation is for you to get rid of some of your weapons and be less intimidating. Thus you will win your friends. Good luck.

Dear Bearing Up:
I need your advice on this: How can I get more people interested in my balloonification company?
Ceralor

Dear Ceralor:
The best advice that I can give you is to advertise your company telling the customers about you and what you have to offer your company. Good luck!

Dear Bearing Up,
I wrote my Congressman about how the nation is being run. Now I have police surrounding my house. Do you think saying, 'Fix this problem or I'll kill you,' was too strong a term?
Signed, Fifteen to Life

Dear fifteen to life:
Our demoracy only accepts change through peaceful, diplomatic means. The best thing to do is to surrender to the police and do your time.

Dear Bearing Up:
I am a 15 year old Care Bear Cousin, and I am a cat. And that is the problem. I look obviously feline, with a long fluffy tail, whiskers, cat ears, a decent "meow"..the whole shebang. But few seem to recognize this and insist on referring to me as a bear! How do I clear up this confusion? How can anyone confuse a kittycat with a bear? I could use all the advice I can get!
Calicoheart

Dear Calicoheart:
I do agree that Care Bears and Care Bear cousins both look superficially alike, with soft, pudgy bodies and colorful fur. It's possible that furs are looking at your general form and ignoring the unique features that make you a cat. The best thing to do is to inform the furs you meet, plainly and candidly but tactfully that you are indeed a feline. Good luck!

Dear Bearing Up,
Hurricane Isabel blew off my roof. My insurance company says it won't pay. What should I do?
Signed, Open Aire

Dear Open Aire:
Your insurance company should be able to help you out with this. My best recommendation is to file an appeal with them and if that doesn't work, seek legal counsel.

Dear Bearing Up:
All my life I've wanted to become a necromancer, working as one with the forces of darkness and decay. However, becoming a pure evil master of evil would somewhat strain my relations with my family. So far, while in training, I've kept it a secret from them so far. Do you think they would still accept me if they knew my true aim, or should I continue hiding? Are there any other alternatives?
Eliahan

Dear Eliahan: If Necromancy is truly what you want to do, my advice to you is to tell your family. They're going to find out about it sooner or later so it's best that they know now. Being your family, they would accept your choices if that would make you truly happy. Good luck.

Dear Bearing Up,
How much wood would a woodchuck chuck if a woodchuck could chuck wood?
Signed, Kindling

Dear Kindling:
There are more important things to think about than that. Get a life.

Remember possums (to steal a term from Dame Edna ;-D), if you have any questions, please page mail me (Ba'ar) online or send mail to big_bear@operamail.com. Thanks.

Every other week, I will be calling attention to the new members of our community. (Editor's Note; ...with the permission of each of the new folks featured, of course. Folks who don't want to be featured in this series, will of course, have that wish fufilled.) This is not to embarrass them, but rather I do it in the hopes that it will encourage everyone to give them a special welcome and friendship.

The following members are new to our community as of a week or two ago at most. Please give them a warm welcome and offer assistance if needed. Who knows, you might even make a new friend or two!

• Adrienne - female Tsimisce
• Sean - Male Oddly Colored Tiger

This week, BarterGarter did the survey and asked, "If you were a transformer, what kind of car would you turn into?"

• Adara -- "A Mercedes Benz”
• Ikuri -- “Car? I'd turn into a giant cassette player, of course.”
• Butterflufff -- A DeLorean. Preferably from the second Back to the Future movie.”
• Carlos oohs!, “A lovely cross between a large, boxy station wagon and the Batmobile.”
• Fenris growls, "BMW Fenris 2010 of course BG."
• Brenda . o O ( my transformer car would be the Mercury Cougar. What else?! =^.^= )
• Argon says, "Hey, a Mustang I guess."
• Bartergarter would transform into an airport luggage carrier, with like seven or eight little trailers snaking along behind it.
• Mouser hisses, "I think I'd be a Segway..."
• Joe'd become a '61 Lotus Elise, he thinks. Joe hrms, "Or a Deux Chevaux." Joe nodles, grinning, "Definetly a Deux Chevaux."
• Daylin -- "I would be a 1969 Ford Mustang."
Gilead pages, "Oh! The new one. :-) An Aquada :-) "
• Ba'ar -- re: "A Sport Utility Vechicle"
• Rown --"Um, a car,eh? I guess a Mustang. :-) "
• KevMan -- "I'd be a Kawasaki Ninja. :)"
• Gina_Doberman --"A monster truck!"
• Tasha -- "Probably a VW Fox."
• Slug pages, "A HMMWV, naturally. But in reality, I would probably end up transforming into a used calculus textbook. I wouldn't make a very intimidating transformer."
• Cye pages, (when a big red fire engine is suggested): “Sure, why not /”
• Casimir says, "A Honda--I could always replace parts."
• Lilahfae pages, “If I was a Transformer, I'd change into a HOTWHEELS Lamborghini, shiny black with a cream leather interior for extra comfort. ;)”
• Gilead pages, "Oh! The new one. :-) An Aquada. :-)
"

Mouser and Butterfluff take shelter from Isabel.

Submitting a story or artwork for @Action News is easy! Just send it to newspaper@spindizzy.org or qmail or page Argon about it.
@Action News is published weekly on or after 12:01 AM Eastern Time on Monday. Most any type of story or article will be accepted. Generally, we'd prefer things that aren't out and out lies or flames about other folks, and have a basis in the reality of SpinDizzy. Things that occur in public areas are fair game. The things reported don't have to have actually happened, (any more than anything that happens here does) but make sure you don't overstep the social boundaries and rules of interaction that we have. These are pretty broad guidelines, but we expect good sense to apply.

Thanks! Argon, Editor @Action News