EDITORIAL: FIRST AND LAST AND ALWAYS
So here I am, sitting in my room on a hot and damp summer
evening. A thunderstorm is brooding in the distance, and the
dense, threatening clouds promise much turmoil later this
evening. I hope it will really raise hell tonight. So I can sit
outside on my balcony, watching the clouds boil and the lightning
shatter the night. Rain shall fall in fat drops, drowning the
earth that already drank a lot of rain in the past few weeks.
A faint headache reminds me of a very hectic day at work. New
systems are being installed and it seems like the whole world is
coming to me and complain that they cannot use some program
properly. It strikes me then what selfish bastards people really
are, they don't care that you are feeling like shit because
everything goes wrong. Hard disks fail, viruses strike, Unix
crashes and so on. Now working in an antique building is nice,
but when your T-shirt sticks to your back and your head feels
bloated and sore because of the heat, you wish there was some
better airconditioning than an open window blowing the hot city
air into the room.
So I was right. At this very moment, my vision of the outside
world is blurred by the tracks of large drops of rain on my
window. The spiders that live in my windowpanes have long
retreated and the trees, normally buzzing with birds, are empty
and desolate. This is a prelude to what I expect to be a mighty
How appropriate this song is now, Eldritch wailing like a
banshee over the sound of thunder and rain. The sounds coming
from the speakers will soon be replaced by the real thing, much
louder and real than any stereo can ever reproduce.
Soon, I will lay down in bed, and descend into the dark realms
of H.P. Lovecraft. I am reading one of his strange books and
night after night I wonder how he can come up with tales so
weird, so macabre.
The rain has stopped and it leaves me to wonder wether or not
this is the ominous silence that always foreshadows the
cloudburst or that the great storm passed by my house leaving
only some shallow pools of rain under my window. Then in the
distance, a flash catches my eye and with bated breath I wait for
the sound of thunder to follow.
With bated breath for the kingdom come...
But only the faintest of rumbles reach my ears and I look down,
disappointed, studying my ghastly shadow on the floor caused by
the gleam of the monitor. Yet another expectation not come true,
another whispered promise broken.
As I look outside once more and see the darkened trees, I
glimpse her standing there, a sweet smile of a mystery on her
pale face. But it was only a ghost, a whisp of mist caused by the
hot earth steaming with newfound rain, and my eyes water in
despair. How can I ever forget?
As I feel hope slipping away like grains of sand running through
my fingers, I see a bird of passage flying by, high in the air.
And all I can do is wait for her to come back...
So much for an editorial. Sometimes, an approaching thunderstorm
coupled with the right music can induce inspiration from the
darkest depths of my being. I was to write about this issue of ST
NEWS, how it is sparkling with life, how we are determined to
continue this remarkable product and renewed enthusiasm and ideas
will make sure that many issues are to follow. But I am strangely
tired and will go to bed right about now.
The text of the articles is identical to the originals like they appeared in old ST NEWS issues. Please take into consideration that the author(s) was (were) a lot younger and less responsible back then. So bad jokes, bad English, youthful arrogance, insults, bravura, over-crediting and tastelessness should be taken with at least a grain of salt. Any contact and/or payment information, as well as deadlines/release dates of any kind should be regarded as outdated. Due to the fact that these pages are not actually contained in an Atari executable here, references to scroll texts, featured demo screens and hidden articles may also be irrelevant.