A Future We'd Like to See 1.8 - Todo's Guide to C'atel By Twoflower (Copyright 1993) Greetings. Todo here, famed travel guide writer and all around great person. Many people have said to me, "Todo, you're an accomplished millionaire philanthropist playboy voyager who has brought the art of touring to new, respectable classes. But in all of the carefree, jetsetting sojourns into the great, wild galaxy, you've never been to C'atel." Now, I'm not one to prejudge, but I've heard C'atel is wet and noisy and dirty, and lord knows that I spent a good portion of my wealth on cleaning bills alone. Since C'atel is generally considered one in a long string of embarrassments, I naturally avoid it. But what can I say? You are my readers, my fans. If you say 'Todo really ought to write a high-class jetsetter's guide to C'atel' then off I go. DAY ONE Surprisingly, none of the more respectable spacelines... Class Stars, Yttian Business Shuttle, or the William Doors / Macroware Business-Class Spaceline had flights going to C'atel from my tastefully decorated planetoid off the orbit of Tiberius- 6. I did manage to find a 'Get-U-Qwik-E-Z-Shut-L', known playfully as the GUQEZSL, that was headed for C'atel. Now, I'm afraid I'll have to drop my standards a little and go 'rustic' on this voyage, because to be frank : C'atel is no place for the truly rich, who are used to air conditioning and 50-room mansions and a hundred servants waiting on you hand and foot. The spaceliner itself was slightly cramped, as there was no first class seating to speak of, and I was given this horrid little bag of stale nuts to content myself with. One good note in the GUQEZSL's favor is their fine assortment of beverages, ranging from crude (straight Vodka) to respectable (Chateau de les Fromages Inedible '34. A good year.) Upon landing at the fine, yet slightly unpolished C'atel spaceport, I was immediately greeted by several kind people from an assortment of religions. Some of them even had flowers to sell. They were quite the kind and polite sort of people one could hope to meet after such a charmingly rustic flight. I attempted to phone for a limo, but to my disappointment no limo services were available. Normally I wouldn't mind a quick stroll through the fine city air, but it was raining quite heavily and my expensive sport jacket didn't take well to water. I had an agenda however, assembled for me by one of my more adventurous friends from The Club, and had to stick with it lest my Qwik-Return-Flight ticket be invalidated. It was afternoon already, and I had places to go, people to meet. So, I had to settle for a taxi. I won't be insulting to the cab company despite the numerous faults in hygiene in both the cab and cabbie alike, for the cab driver was very nice, offering advice on where to go, and even some of the local delight, a sort of mushroom. I accepted the mushroom, wrapping it carefully in a hankie I always keep to clean off seats before sitting in them. My first stop was the PeezLuvDope, a nightclub with a rather clever pun in the name. The whole outside of the building was covered in examples of the local artwork, mostly done by the spray ink stuff, but the inside was another matter. It took about fifteen minutes to step away from the door, because unfortunately the entire inside of the club was coated in mirrors. So here I was, trapped looking at several fine reflections of my manly physique, unable to move, cornered by my own good looks. Fortunately someone dislodged me upon entrance to the club, and it broke my gaze. I might be there still if it weren't for that. This clearly was a club for young people, and while I'm no old fart myself, I'm certainly not a spring chicken. Ha ha, I love cliches! The music being played was that rather odd mix of styles which originated on C'atel... I do believe it's called grime, or something similar. The various young people around me were having a good time, bumping into each other and jumping about like little Yttian Jumping Beans. After a few drinks... and we DO know what I'm like after a few drinks, right? (giggle) I figured I'd have a go. Of course, this style of dance would never work at some of my more posh parties, but I enjoyed it all the same. Of course, my sport coat will never be the same again, but it was worth it. The actual bumping into each other was only part of the fun, I found out. There was a side stairwell on the stage, and a little path of cute yellow arrows to... a diving board! Yes, the crowd acted like human water (what a great comparison!), holding out hands to catch whoever dived from the stage. There were some impressive flips and spins, and the occasional bellyflop. I considered participating, but the sound near the actual stage from the two guitar, one bass, one drum band was quite loud and I feared ear damage. I did get to have one moment of pure silliness, however. I noticed a sort of ladder leaned against one of the walls, and numerous pipes and bars above which held up speakers and lights. Casting my common sense and tasteful inhibitions away, I promptly climbed the ladder and started swinging along the bars, much like a monkey of sorts. The crowd loved it, and when it came time to get down due to weak arm muscles... wheeee! Down I fell. They caught me, of course. Very considerate partygoers. I stayed in a nice, rustic 'motel' (a word meaning hotel, only to a lower degree and with a smaller holovision set) where I fell asleep peacefully on the springy mattress. DAY TWO As most of the C'atellian atmosphere relied on a knowledge of their local folk music (I must admit, I didn't even know who the band playing at last night's club was), I figured I'd use the day listening to some of the local tunes before my nightly activities would ensue. The CD2 store was quite decorative, posters of long-haired men (I never liked the style myself) and amusing gargoyle-like creatures plastered on any available wall. I asked the sales representative for the ten most popular albums and a CD2 player to listen to them on. (Normally, you see, I'd just hire out the band or orchestra and listen to it live. One of those little sacrifices I'd have to make for this trip.) Here's a quick shopping list of the titles I managed to get. Stomach Contents Live Tour : Taste the Bile Euphoria : Forget It Diamond Jelly Soulrenders Battlestar Metallica (a movie soundtrack, apparently) Stomach Contents : Soft Bits The Best of Purple Motion the Fifth's S6Ms Mental Asylum : I Just Get These Headaches This Band Sucks : Don't Buy This Record, It's Embarrassing A Couple of White Guys With Guitars and a Scratchboard I called the various publishing companies so I could write up reviews of some of the more prominent tracks, without fear of lawsuit. (As if they could get better paid lawyers than mine!) Apparently, the Big Band of sorts would be Stomach Contents, who seem to rely on grating guitar and unusual lyrics to get their musical metaphor across. The title track to Soft Bits goes something like this : Soft Bits, yeah, my baby's got 'em Hooters, knockers, whatever you call 'em They're big and they're round and that's all that matters This line doesn't have to rhyme, so bite me, alright? And the chorus : Soft bits, yeah yeah (soft bits) (repeat 6 times) Although in text form this song seems rather simplistic, the combination of vocal and synthesized chords is very heartbeat moving. The tune is overall enjoyable. For some reason, members of a PTA organization of HappiWerld attempted to assassinate the band over this song. I can't understand why. Obviously the song is talking about a sort of round pillow kept in the crib of a small child. Family values material if I ever heard it. The Mental Asylum album had some vivid imagery imbedded in the lyrics, as well as some spooky-sounding music. A sample : I just get these headaches I am not insane Just because I killed and ate Your uncle, aunt, and godmother Doesn't mean I'm a particularly bad person I just get these headaches Please don't lock me away Or I'll be forced to hunt you down with a knife And spill your pagan blood All over my newly slipcovered sofa. This is clearly a political message, warning against the rising tide of interspecies violence and so forth. I applaud their peaceful efforts. Anyway, the music was enjoyable, and eventually night set in. My next stop was a sort of coffee house called the Whack 'n Buggl, apparently a new franchise out of Yttia. The decorum is decidedly dim and depressingly dark (Alliteration!), with a smoky haze and one spotlight and chair combo for potential poets. Apparently, the coffee house employed a sniper who would sit in an unknown area in the rafters and shoot tranquilizer darts at the extremely bad poets while onstage. I assume this is a safety precaution from someone hearing a bad poem, and then not recommending the establishment to their friends. One of the patrons explained to me that the original branch on Yttia employed a sniper with live ammunition, but due to local laws this wasn't possible on C'atel. Most of the poets were quite enjoyable, but one poem clearly stands out among the rest. I asked the poet if I could reprint it here, and he said yes. "Ziplock Messiah" by Reg'kk Pollilla Spam lives in my cupboard Cheez Whiz in my 'fridge I worship them both They are my lord Remember, when you see more of Mr. Pollilla's fine work, I discovered him first! Well, that wraps up my two day quickie in C'atel. I can summarize by saying the planet is quite fun to visit for a change from the usual string of expensive, catering-to-your-every- delight sort of planets. I recommend it highly for those of us who want to get away from this bothersome life of never working a day and having our meals prepared for us. Just don't bring anything you'd like to wear twice. So long from Todo, your favorite travel guide for the elite and mine. Next time I'll be taking us inside the corporate world of Macroware, where William Doors and the elite relax and work in a preprocessed, user adjustable environment. Be seeing you!