MIT Science Fiction Society

84 Massachusetts Avenue

Cambridge, MA 02139

MITSFS Meeting Minutes

Friday, November 19, 2004

MITSFS meeting called to order, 1700 SST, Kat Allen, President and Skinner, presiding; Brian Sniffen, Onseck, recording.

Minutes read.

They are not commended for the quantity of bananas therein, as this fails 7-18-6 plus Spehn.

Andrew ``motions'' something, but Jamie successfully moves that we ignore all motions from those who think that ``motion'' is a verb 16-0-11 plus Spehn.


Committee Reports


Rejection. Sad.


Kat made one. It's pretty.

It's broken.

PseudoSurgeon and BondageComm

Three boxes of stuff have been dropped off at Acme. They will soon return those together with, we ask, a large bag of birdseed and an inflatable anvil 23+rocket skates-0-1 plus Spehn.


Paige is commended for starting prenticework, 17-0-1 plus Spehn.


25 or 30 books unpacked today. Some of them are interesting.


Old Business

There is some discussion of squirrels and about nano-shrinking them and injecting them into Margaret's bloodstream.

GURPS Technomancer short stories are being published, featuring an Antarctic hive mind of penguins.

Carthago Delenda Est. Fails IX-XII-VI plus Spehn.


New Business

There's some discussion of purchase orders. The Star Chamber should figure out whether we want to use it. The alternative is mailing cheques and waiting a bit longer.


Future Business

Blade III coming soon.

People are scheduling LotR sleepover parties.

"Come!" cried Aragorn. "Down this winding path through the green-gold dappled woods of shadow we may yet find shelter for the night ere we reach the sylvan palace of the elves."

"The fuck?" said Gimli. "Speak English!"

"I thought I was," said Aragorn.

"Nay!" stated Legolas. "You speak not the language of men or elves nor yet even the garbled tongue of the orcs, but some other stilted, forced and over-dramatic faggoty fake Shakespearean that even I, in my great ancient elfly wisdom which totally kicks the ass of your puny human brain, not that I'm bragging, know not. In fact, I know an epic song that vaguely relates to this same circumstance. Back it on up whilst I bust a rhyme."

"I know a song, too," growled the dwarf. "It's called 'Shut the Fuck Up, You Tightass Blond Pooftah'."

Meanwhile, the hobbits bitched and whined and Gandalf did nothing. He looked very wise while he did it, though.1

Someday, there will be hats. We have some Krispy Kreme hats.

The Con Dor is nearly extinct.

There will be a meeting next week, but the library -- and the building -- will be closed on Thursday for Thanksgiving.

BTS says we cannot allow the library to close, not even for a day. Miller Motion! But it fails 12-15-4 plus Spehn.

Kevin Riggle, our newest member, initiates a project to investigate conservation of bananas 16-6-0 plus Spehn.

Meeting adjourned, 1730 SST.

Respectfully submitted,
Brian Sniffen, Onseck


... though.1
Props to Courtney for the pointer