Format
Wars
By Paul Sneed
In the following story, any relation to persons or events, living or dead, fact or fiction is purely coincidental.
The old disc jockey paced back and forth as he waited for all the children to be seated. He wasn't as patient as he used to be. The 30 or so children sat in a semi-circle around the fire. It was time for him to begin. He lined the old book from the shelf and approached the eager youths seated on the floor.
He had told the story countless times, but it still pained him greatly to think about the old days. He sat on the stool in front of the children. A hush came over the group as the Old One opened the book. He glanced at the children one last time and began to read.
"Chapter One. Not too long ago in a radio station far far away, there was a struggle between good and evil. The good student alliance was fighting for its life against the evil managerial forces in a duel to the artistic death known as Format Wars."
The Old One looked up. The children were spellbound by his first few words. He continued.
"Our story takes place on a remote, barely habitable island in North America. The beautiful Princess Innovata's vehicle had been overrun by Darth Vaderson and his managerial storm troopers, so she sent a short-wave message to the only person who could save her.
"Help me, Alpha Epsilon Rhobi, you're my only hope. Help me Alpha Epsilon Rhobi, I'm up to here in old memos."
Just then, Darth Vaderson seized the Princess.
"Don't move, Princess Innovata—you're under arrest."
"Well speaking of turkeys, look who it is. Darth Vaderson. I thought you went out with wide ties and folk music."
"Comedy will get you nowhere, Princess."
"Tell that to Richard Pryor."
Her spirit angered Vaderson. He read the charges against her.
"In the name of Chancel Mel the First, Supreme Leader of the Managerial Forces, I hereby arrest you on a charge of aiding the student alliance in a plot to promote good music."
Princess Innovata was shocked. "Since when is that a crime?"
"You should read your managerial rulebook a little more closely, Princess. I know it by heart," Vaderson replied.
"You should, dammit, you wrote the darn thing," the Princess said. Vaderson began to read. "The Managerial Rulebook, written into law at the end of the Hardindian Era, clearly states in Section 37:1, paragraph X, subsection 112, that 'no good music shall be broadcast unless it is profitable to the Managerial Forces."'
But the message had already reached the ears of a young student nobody named Luke Skywalkman. He stumbled upon it while sitting in a dark corner of his room, desperately trying to tune in some new music on his short wave.
"Come in London. . . Come in London. . . Can you hear me London? Is Paul Weller there? Is Joe Strummer there?"
Through the static there came a faint cry for help. Luke was startled by the sound.
"...Alpha Epsilon Rhobi, you're my only hope. . . "
The voice drifted away leaving Luke in silence.
"Wow, she sounds like she's in real trouble! But who's Alpha Epsilon Rhobi? I wonder if she means old W A E Rhobi. He lives on the other side of town among the band people. I'd better go see him."
Luke did. W A E Rhobi was a frail old man who sat by his radio listening to new wave and funk. He received the boy gladly and was happy to answer his questions.
"Alpha Epsilon Rhobi,-now there's a name I haven't heard in a long, long time."
"Then you know him?" Luke asked
"Know him? My boy, I am him."
"Oh, well I intercepted a short-wave message for you. It went something like this." Luke played the tape for the old man.
Rhobi recognized the voice immediately.
Ahh, Princess Innovata, the beautiful young leader of the student alliance. Her vehicle must have been overrun by Managerial Forces and now she's in trouble. Luke, you've got to help me."
Luke was aghast.
"Oh no. My uncle has decided that I have a future with him in public relations. He needs me."
The old man grew sullen. He walked across the room and sat down beside Luke.
"But I need you too, Luke. Let me tell you a story. Once upon a time there was a DJ named Alpha Epsilon Rhobi. He had two very good students. One was your father. The other was a man named Darth Vaderson who was lured to the dark side of the airwaves by Top 40 and AOR Formats. He murdered your father in the ratings."
Luke was shocked. The old man continued.
"The Managerial Forces will take over the airwaves if we don't stop them. That's why I need you."
Rhobi reached into his desk and handed Luke a dusty cassette tape.
"Your father wanted me to give this to you, but your uncle wouldn't allow it.
"What is it?" asked Luke.
"New Music. A more civilized music for the sound of the Eighties."
After listening to the cassette on his walkman, Luke stood up and shook the old man's hand.
"All right Epsilon Rhobi, I'm with you.
"Good. Then we'll need a fast vehicle and a smart pilot. Luke, meet Overnight Solo."
"How you doin' kid?"
"Nice to meet you, Overnight. What’s that?"
That’s my sidekick, and co-pilot Cupocoffee. He doesn't say much but he gets the job done."
"Is your vehicle fast?" Luke asked.
"Fast? Kid, this baby's commercial free."
Alpha Epsilon Rhobi smiled.
"It's got to be more than that to get away from the Managerial professionals"
Overnight Solo winced.
"Now wait a minute, old man. I don't want any managerial trouble."
"No one said fighting a format war was going to be easy, Solo."
"All right. But if I get fired, we all go down together."
And so Luke, Epsilon Rhobi, Overnight Solo and Cupocoffee set off to rescue the captive Princess Innovata. Little did they know their problems were just beginning. A storm trooper aboard the NCC2 made his report.
"Lord Vaderson, there's a commercial-free vehicle on the scanner"
"Hmmmm, I wonder what it's doing in this part of North America. Attach a stupidity beam to it and check it for any signs of life," Vaderson wheezed.
Inside the commercial-free vehicle, Solo and Cupocoffee valiantly tried to free themselves from the grasp of the Managerial stupidity beam.
"Cupocoffee—quick! All engines in reverse!" Cried Solo.
"What's going on?" Asked Luke.
"There's nothing we can do, kid! They've attached some kind of stupidity beam to our vehicle. We're falling right into their hands and there's no way out!"
The old storyteller looked up from his book. This part of the tale always pained him greatly. He examined the faces of the eager young children seated before him. He told them about the capture of the vehicle and the closing down of A. E. Rhobi without consulting the book that lay in his lap. He had relived that day many times in his memory.
He explained the daring rescue of Princess Innovata and the escape of our heroes with a voice lacking all emotion. His feelings were gone for he knew the end of the story. "But still," he thought, "I must tell them. They must know". He looked down at the book once again
"Chapter Two, the Administration Strikes Back. The story has taken our heroes to the Planet Syracuse, where the good student alliance has regrouped to fight for freedom, creativity and the sound of the Eighties.
The captain at the front lines yelled into his comlink
"The Managerial Walkallovers are advancing, they're going to crush our proposal, I hope the format holds!" Vaderson's voice echoed across the icy plain.
"Adhering to standards inspires creativity!"
The captain screamed in agony; "There goes student input!"
"Creativity is an overused word."
The captain was hit again; "And new music!"
Vaderson's voice boomed out once and for all; "Those who can, do, those who can't, teach."
The captain called back to base "Our varied format is destroyed. Resign, resign, resign. . . "
"You can't resign." said Vaderson "I'm firing you, and you and you . . .';
Meanwhile, back at the base, Luke and Overnight Solo were saying their good-byes.
"Listen kid, its time we sign off."
Luke agreed. "I'm going to find some Victrola character, Epsilon Rhobi recommended him."
Overnight took the Princess in his vehicle and headed for the rendezvous point on the planet Juneone, while Luke went out in search of Victrola.
"Hmmm," Luke mumbled. "Alpha Epsilon Rhobi told me to find Victrola on this planet, but all I can see is a swamp."
"Ahhhhh," said a voice behind Luke. "You must be sharper than that to become air cleared like your father, hmmmm."
Luke turned around in panic. Behind him he saw a small furry beast with long pointed ears and a pair of headphones around his neck.
"You must be Victrola," said Luke.
"Ahhhh, so smart for one so young," said the creature.
Luke stepped closer. "You've got to help me—Alpha Epsilon Rhobi is dead air and Vaderson is hunting down the senior staff of the student alliance. "
Victrola scratched his head. "I must think, yes think. You are a college radio station, yes?
"Yes," Luke agreed, "But Vaderson thinks we're too low in the ratings."
Victrola scratched his head again. His face looked quizzical.
"You are commercial free, yes? You don’t air commercials, no never, ratings not apply. A warped argument, this Vaderson has."
"Yes," Luke exclaimed. "But the student alliance has been overrun and my friends have been fired. I’ve got to save them and stop the administration."
"Yes, the threat of a conventional, complacent, boring university—ah,
Universe is great. But you are not ready to fight Vaderson. You must become air cleared, like your father. "
"I'm sorry Victrola, but my friends need me now. May the format be with you."
With that, Luke flew off to re join the alliance on Juneone. Little did he know I that he was walking into a trap. Vaderson had already captured Overnight Solo and the Princess and was taking care of them in his usual style.
"Take them to the creativity killer—Solo will do nicely as a test case."
"No wait—I have a ship to do tonight.... "
"Silence him," said Vaderson "Bring in the hired professionals."
The Princess stared at the vast machine that Overnight Solo was being wired to. "What are you going to do to him?"
"The creativity killer is designed to fossilize your format and make all your music bland and repetitious."
"Oh no! That's immoral."
"Immoral?"
"Look it up, Vaderson."
As the words led her lips, Vaderson activated the machine and sent Overnight Solo into a mindless oblivion.
"And now it's your turn, Princess. Once the station is totally in my control, I can turn it into a mouthpiece for the university—-ah, universe—and get all kinds of grants and. . . where'd she go?"
During his speech, the princess had escaped, leaving Vaderson alone to hunt down Luke Skywalkman. He found him in the hall.
"So, young Skywalkman. . . we meet at last. You know, you think you're pretty hot, don't you? Well, let me tell you you're not so hot. You're nothing. But we can change that. Come with me, Luke. Come join the new staff of the Managerial Forces."
"No!" Luke exclaimed. "Never!"
"Your resistance is beginning to bother me, Skywalkman."
Just then, a sound attracted their attention. A tiny bell rang. "This is the elevator of central New York. We have no more commercial-free vehicles under our control but you're welcome to get the shaft.... "
The storyteller looked up from his book and sighed as he closed its yellowed pages. He took one last look at the young naive children who would soon replace him. "And that's just what the student alliance got," he said. "The shaft."
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
Last Modified October 14, 2005 |