• Take a look at the CHarc from a guy's perspective:  Brother Mike's.
• Read about Sister Mandy's adventures with X-Files and brain juice in Russia.
• Sister Squat raises the level of her artform by proving that even tax forms can be perved.
• Zod's Karatoon suggests a better way to find out what really happened to Samantha....
• Sister Tammy Perpetua describes her backstage encounter with the Earthly Incarnation at the Vagina Monologues.  (Not the bragging sort, this story really had to be dragged out of her because she would never be so unkind to the less fortunate and point repeatedly at her shoulder and say, "Me and GA."  Never.)
• My favorite Abbey mother-daughter duo tell how they first joined the Order.  Don't miss their "inside story," a series of instant messages.
• Add another scary scientific term to your repertoire with Sister Lens-of-Science.  Complete with printable table of do's and don'ts
• Get Fest Updates, find out how to plan your NF Marathon, and take a peek at the OBSSE Yearbook.  Plus Ask Autumn, OBSSEwood Minute, Poll Results and much more, all for your reading enjoyment.

E D I T O R S
Paula R
Autumn Tysko

D E S I G N   &   G R A P H I C S
La..

R E G U L A R   C O L U M N I S T S
Kara Zod
CathyB
Sister Squat
Sister Lens-of-Science
Pilgrim

C O N T R I B U T O R S   t o  No. 33
Mandy
Sister Janelle
Meredith
Brother Mike
Tammy Ten-Seconds
Sister Adrianne
Rania

Thanks to Haven and GAWS for image assistance
 

News for the OBSSEsed is a monthly publication of The Order of the Blessed St. Scully the Enigmatic

Obviously, we are running a little behind. Truth be told there's been so much going on at the Abbey this month that we decided to do a March/April combo issue with a special News Update to run in April to make sure everyone knows what is going on in the Abbey (check the main web page for that update mid-April). Preparations for FEST and the Scully Marathons have left us all very busy, so we appreciate your patience with OBSSE Central this month.

The Vagina Monologues

Of course the OBSSE event to be at last month was the Vagina Monologues where Gillian absolutely floored the lucky enough to be there Sisters of the Abbey with her wonderful monologue (and over $300,000 was raised for women's charities). Swoodsie was going around saying, "I shouldn't have taken it swimming" for days after, and I still don't think Tammy's washed her shoulder (see her article to find out what I mean). What an empowering and special evening on the whole. Playwright Eve Ensler has done a wonderful thing for women. Second only to that was Paula's fabulous OBSSE after party that Friday night which saw about 40 members of the Abbey and even an X-Files guest star enjoying Scullyritas, company, games, and of course my toast. Nothing like a good party amongst friends to get you primed for FEST.

Thanks to the hard work of Sister SpicedRum Operation Crazy Quilt has been a big success. We had over fifty Abbey members participate in creating this unique gift for Gillian Anderson which includes filks, computer generated artwork, letters, reviews, poetry, original sketches and paintings. We'll be getting it out to her sometime this month as a way of saying thanks for giving us Scully.

Mailing List News

After two and a half years and nearly 600 members, it is time to make some changes with the mailing list. Seeing as though the end is drawing near for the series and we are definitely at critical mass we will be closing the list to new members as of this announcement. The mailing list will continue in its present form until after FEST and then additional changes will be made as your Elders enter their X-Files retirement along with David and Gillian.

Many thanks to Leslie Pierce and her crack crew of Skull, Mandy, Minor, and Rania for capturing all that is the OBSSE in their fabulous OBSSE Yearbook. Years may come and go, but I think we'll all remember the time we spent in this crazy Abbey. Now we just need to figure out a way to sign them.

FEST '00

FEST registration opened earlier this month (see article) and as of now it is the last planned FEST. However, who's to say it might not be fun for some of us to get together a little more informally in a couple of years to watch a little summer movie together and relive old times...

You'll also find information in this issue about our marathons for NF, Inc. (the first of which is held in just a few days).  I strongly encourage each and every OBSSE member to participate in some way either via group marathons, smaller gatherings, or just making a donation yourself. It's a great way to say thank you to Gillian for all the joy she's given us here in the Abbey, and it's tax deductible.

GAWS Auction

Also don't forget to save your money for the Fourth Annual GAWS Auction for NF this May as well. The wonderful folks there are busily compiling an incredible list of items to auction off, and have even asked me for a few suggestions so if you see Scully's machete from The Sixth Extinction up there you know who suggested that. 

Things always seem to move pretty fast here at the Abbey, and within a week of announcing FEST registration open on the mailing list we are already over our planned number of 100 attendees. Since traditionally a few people do drop out, we will be waitlisting those Abbey members who wish to attend and will notify you if a slot becomes available. You can register for FEST (or simply sign up to get one of this year's Camp Scully scrub shirts) at the FEST webpage. If you are attending and haven't secured your accommodations please do so ASAP as we will be releasing any unused rooms. Also don't forget to go through the special Minnesota primer to get yourself ready.

I have a daughter who would come in on Friday nights as I was writing papers for school, and insist on turning off the lights to watch some idiot program..  We compromised by my turning on a little light and working away on the computer.  It had eerie music and silly dialogue that interfered with my scholarly pursuits.  I would say, "What is happening?" and she would say, "Mulder ditched Scully for a giant alligator."   "Oh, right,"  I would say.  Then, "Mom, you have to watch this.  He can squeeze into people's houses through the commode." I would say. "Oh good."  This went on for a while, the only change being that the irritation came on Sunday night instead of Friday night.  It made scant difference to the scholarly paper writer except that it was a little closer to deadline. I worked at the State for aggravation and pennies.

It was against this background that my baby informed me that she was joining an Internet Cult. Not only that, the cult was devoted to that TV program, The X-Files. She let me read what was being written on line and in the newsletters and I was a little mollified.  But I did not tell my friends what was going on at my house because I did not them on my case for letting Meredith on the Internet much less joining cults.

My daughter told me how her friends got together on a computer and played "find the pervert" in the chat rooms. She said that she was the
fastest.  This news was unsettling, but not as bad as what came next.  Meredith wanted to join an Internet cult. How scary was that? She very carefully explained that it was a group dedicated to Saint Scully and that she had to go through a period to be accepted into the group. I read some of the material, it did not seem to be too satanic and I was trying to let her make some of her own decisions. But you can bet that I kept a careful eye out for symptoms of satanism or other evil influences. I did not dare tell my friends what I was letting my daughter do. They would have thought that I was going around the bend. The cult was named the Order of the Blessed Saint Scully the Enigmatic.

During spring break of 1998, Meredith asked if one of her OBSSE friends
could come and stay at our house. I gave her one of those what I now know as Scully looks and she came forth with lots of references that I could contact on line for her. One was at the University (of Texas, for those who are not enlightened) and working with Mayan history.  He vouched for her and told me that I would be doing the University a great service if I allowed her to stay.  What could I do?  Sik!chickie came to stay. She was witty, intelligent, irreverent, and loved Tex-Mex. I was sad to see her leave. Summer came along and Meredith began speaking of Fest and lots of people coming from the Philippines and Germany and Minnesota and other strange and foreign places to see the premier of the X-Files movie.  I was no longer so negative and no one wanted to stay with us so I was content. Besides Meredith was going to get a job as soon as this thing was over. She brought over some of the people and liberated my potato peeler and some other articles and was babbling about freeing Scully and Mulder from someone's purse. It was all very perplexing. She was also
ecstatic about a test tube with a remission chip. They had all waved them at the premiere. Meredith went to work and we shared complaints about work and bosses and all of that. She still watched the X-Files and I ignored them. Somewhere in between working too hard, putting Meredith on the plane to a foreign country, and the hottest summer in existence, I joined the OBSSE and became a serious fan of Scully and the RevMa, and Autumn and Sikchickie and some of the others.

How did I become hooked on the X-Files?  I am not sure.  I think that it had to do with the Dallas Cowboys.  Yes, I am sure that it was all their fault.  They turned into a bunch of drug snorting jerks and Jimmy Jones was the worst. Well, except for Troy. I refused to watch them anymore. I had to do something else. Meredith had left a bunch of tapes of the X-Files (and some of Daria and Buffy, but that is another story) and out of desperation I watched some. I became hooked. And the rest is known to you all.

When I first started watching the X-Files, I was still in high school and Mom was working on a master's degree.  The computer was in the same room as the TV, so every Friday night the battle would wage over the degree of lighting.  Mom always won.  I tried desperately to get her interested in my new favorite show, but since she had endured my other obsessions with her typical enthusiasm ("Guitar.  That's nice, dear.  Go play on the back porch.") she didn't have much time to spare on a TV show. 

"Hey Mom," I would say, "there's this show with this special agent who is a woman and kicks serious ass, I think you would really like her." 

"Oh, right." she would say, like I mentioned alligators or commodes or something. 

Weeks went by, months went by, and I discovered the OBSSE on a lovely summer's day in early June of 1997.  Mom was never comfortable with my being on the internet, and she was definitely not thrilled.

"Hey Mom," I would say, "I found this group on the internet devoted to that agent who kicks serious ass on The X-Files and they've got the best sense of humor.  It's an 'abbey' with Scully as their patron saint. You should read some of the hilarious things they've got."

"Scully.  She's the woman, right?"  she would say, obviously translating my words as "Hey Mom, I joined an internet cult dedicated to a fictional character.  I'm selling all my belongings and going to live in a compound in Colorado."

When I was recruited into the Rogues, I mean Kitchen Crew, she thought I'd really gone off the deep end. Though I can't blame her on that one. She has a son who at that time was in South America somewhere with the Green Berets, and a daughter who spent her lovely summer days inside pretending to hack into 1013 cast lists and set up explosives on the Fox lot.  Not that the Kitchen Crew does that.

Months went by.  It was my senior year of high school and I was wearing combat boots, too much black eyeliner, and dyed my hair red in the meantime.  Mom of course blamed the OBSSE.  In retaliation, she would
make fun of me for buying X-Files stuff. 

"Hey Mom," I would say, "Can I get this X-Files T-shirt?"

"It's your money," she would say, "Waste it on whatever crap you want."

So let's just say that she was less than happy when I asked if an internet friend could stay with us when she came to Austin for Spring Break.  Especially when she found out that even though this person's name was
"VerLaine Henn" my group called her "Sick!Chickie."  With enough references she finally relented.  And I think she liked having her with us because she quit bothering me about the OBSSE for awhile.  Which was a good thing because it was about time for the first Fest to roll around.

"Hey Mom," I would say, "There's a bunch of people in the OBSSE from all over like Singapore and Great Britain and Germany and all over the U.S. coming to watch the new X-Files movie that's coming out and just have a get-together in June.  It's in Austin, so I'm going to go.  Sick!Chickie will be coming too."

"Right," she would say, "Don't spend too much money and come home if you're uncomfortable."

See? She was getting pretty cool about the whole thing.

One day during Fest I came home, with about 15 nuns in tow for lunch.  (The other reason was to make a raid on the kitchen for my potato peeler, Super Soaker, and lipstick.  Not that we were planning anything. Because we weren't at that point.)  But Mom was charmed by the likes of Chickie and Gen and Chish and Minor Shannon and happily opened up her home and let them meet the duck.

Shortly thereafter she joined the OBSSE herself. I chose not to make too much fun of her because I knew that if I was good maybe she'd stop giving me so much hell for my X-Files habit, even though she persisted in giving me strange looks whenever I showed her my Blessed Remission Chip or my Scully Rosary.  Some people have no taste.

That September, I left for college in Massachusetts.  I only had enough room for two of my X-Files tapes, so I chose the one with Memento Mori and Never Again, and the one with Kill Switch and Bad Blood.  Had I known what was about to transpire I would have found a way to take them ALL.  While I was gone, Mom must have been reading the OBSSE newsletters or something.  Or maybe she got bored.  Maybe football wasn't on.  Whatever the reason, she started watching my XF tapes. All of them, dutifully taped and labeled with name, date, and number for two and a half years, even the reruns.  Don't get me wrong, I didn't mind that she was watching them because it meant that she would tape Season Six for me while I was stuck in Massachusetts without a reliable VCR.  Except she didn't just watch them.  When I came home for Christmas, my two beloved XF tapes in tow, and she TOOK them. CONFISCATED them. I wasn't even allowed to take my Season One tape labeled with titles like "Volcanoes or Some Such Rubbish" back to Smith with me.  I was sent back to ice-covered Massachusetts in a state of tapeless woe and without hope of getting any more.

Then Mom figured out IRC and joined the mailing list. Can I ever begin to express how weird it is to post to the list and then have your mother write you and say, "Your post was funny, but you forgot a comma."  and say "Hi Mom!" when you enter a chat room? Or get an email that says "Oh, sure, never have time to write ME but you can write the OBSSE people?"

Though to be honest, all things considered, I'm glad she's in the Order.  She's grown to love my red hair. I knew what to get her for Christmas. We hosted a Scully Marathon. I began to get care packages with the Movie in them. I got the X-Files game that first Christmas home, which led Mom to buy a new computer because her old one wasn't fast enough to play the
X-Files game. I took the game back to college and found that my computer was also a bit slow for it, expecting to also get a new computer or at least an upgrade. 

"Hey Mom," I said, "my computer is a little too slow to play the game, just like yours was."

"Great!" she replied, "Mail the game home!"

What's not to love?

Though the ultimate perk to having Mom in the Order was definitely Fest 1999. Mom decided she was going without even batting an eyelash at such things as beavers, lard, and the fact it was not in Austin this year but in Winter Park. The two of us planned to roadtrip just like Thelma and Louise without the firearms and the cliff. She got together no less than
15 roadmaps (I am NOT kidding.  15.  All labeled with Post-Its so you could be sure of the correct order), and I got together no less than 15 mix tapes. Just for her I went light on the Tori Amos and heavy on the Lyle Lovett.  I do it all for her. The two of us set off in our rented Taurus clone (with a Scully PI hanging from the rearview mirror) on a dewy morning in
June, not unlike the one two years before when I discovered the OBSSE.  We laughed and got weird looks all the way through west Texas and I talked Mom up the mountain roads in Colorado. She charmed the Elders
with our embarrassing family stories (I do it ALL for you, Autumn). She told me to never ever be caught prancing like those crazy Minnesota girls. She shot me with my own Super Soaker.  We can't wait for Fest 2000.

And while I was in Montreal, La.. came up with the idea for this article.  I approached Mom about it and she was happy to do it.  We finally got to emailing Paula about it several months later.  She said it would be due February 20.  We had been thinking about it for awhile, so we thought it would be a snap.  We began emailing each other bits and pieces of it.  Sort of.  Once I used a cattle prod. 

"Hey Mom," I would write, "Do you have the second part of your piece?"

"Oh, right," she would reply.  "I got two of them mashed together.  Keep your shirt on and stop snickering."

Though from this quote, one can see how cool she has grown because of you people.  I'm sure there's worse things to bond with Mom over than an article for an internet group, the internet group, going to a fest for the internet group, laughing over the latest thing Scully did, or getting to use words like "CHarc," "prancy" or "Ted Danson" at home.  All in all, it's not a bad way to live.  Besides, I'm sure that I'm never going to get a phone call from home between the hours of 9-10pm Eastern on Sunday nights.

Oh, and Mom?  I do NOT have a tape of Buffy.

Meredith:  Mom, they want a  mother-daughter perspective for the newsletter.

Janelle: Okay when do they need it?

Meredith:  December 20.

Janelle:  Well okay.  What will we write about?

Meredith: I do not know. It will come to us.

Janelle: Fine, let me know when I have to write.

Meredith: We missed the deadline for the December Newsletter.

Janelle:  That is okay, we will have lots of time when you are here for
Christmas.

Meredith: We missed the January deadline.

Janelle: When is the next one?

Meredith: February 20.

Janelle: I will write something and e-mail it to you.

Meredith:  Here is something that I have written.

Janelle:  I like that approach, let us do a Bad Blood kind of thing.

Meredith: I do not like the part about what you said about the Internet.

Janelle: Okay I will change it.

Meredith: We should write our article.

Janelle: Oh yes, I had let that slip my mind. Okay e-mail me what you have if it is any different and we can do a Severed Review complete with insults. You want to give it a try or is that too obvious?

Meredith: We can rip people off all we want.  Though I feel safer
ripping off Bad Blood. They did have little interjections at times.

Janelle: Okay, BB it is. Have you written anything new yet?

Meredith: Uh... no.  Will do.

Janelle: Uh yes, me too just as soon as I load the washer.

Meredith: Good call.  <g>

Janelle: What is your excuse? <g>

Meredith: I'm going to college.

Janelle: LOL, you twit.

Janelle: Get to work.

Meredith: Yes ma'am!

Janelle: Well now the duck pond is filling.

Janelle: Those new snap lock pools take a lot of work

Meredith: That I know.

Janelle: How is your writing going?

Meredith: Well.  I'm to my joining the Rogues.

Janelle: Do you think that we should write about * not writing* the piece?

Meredith: Yes!

Janelle: Well go for it!

Meredith: Well, right now I'm only to 1997.

Janelle: Okay I am almost to graduation 1998 and Chickie came at SB 98.

Meredith: Just got to 98.

Janelle: I am deiting <g>
Janelle: editing

Meredith: Well, I'll do that when I have something written.

Janelle: LOL

Janelle: Okay I am going to send you some stuff, on e-mail. How are you doing?

Meredith: Pretty good.  I'll send you what I've got.

Janelle: Okay then it will be time to put the clothes in the dryer.

Meredith: Okay.

Meredith: So where's this thing you're sending me?

Janelle: I got two of them mashed together. Keep your shirt on and stop snickering.

Meredith: Don't worry, my part will get shorter when I edit.

Janelle: I am not worried, let the Newsletter worry.

Meredith: Deal.  This is pretty funny.  So are we going to mash them together or have two separate accounts?

Janelle: What do you think will work best?

Meredith: I have no idea.  We'll look at our options.

Janelle: Okay.

Meredith: I'm going to have to go to brunch soon.

Janelle: Okay did you get the last paragraph?

Meredith: Lemme check.

Meredith: I HAD NO BUFFY.

Janelle: You have BUFFY.

Meredith: DO NOT!

Meredith: We can put this in, you know.

Janelle: I have in my hands a tape that says Buffy and Dawson's Creek.

Janelle: I left out Dawson's in deference to your sensibilities.

Meredith: It's not Buffy and Dawson's Creek.  It's X-Files.  Put it in and see.

Janelle: Why did you not tell me I had more X-Files?  It still says
Buffy and it stays in.  Unless you want me to put in Dawson.

Meredith: It's Elaine's tape.

Janelle: A likely story

Meredith: True!

Janelle: It does not look like your handwriting but if it is not X-Files
then Dawson's goes in too.

Meredith: EWWWW!

Janelle: I am checking.  Go to brunch.

Janelle: Before all the dairy free people get the good food.

Meredith: <g> You're funny.  I'm almost finished with this part, lemme mail it to you.
 

About a week ago, I was sitting at a table drinking margaritas with Autumn, discussing the many fine uses of the word "byzantine," when she suggested that I could write an article about the CHarc from a man's point of view. Naturally, I graciously accepted this challenge and immediately began work on this article.

Ok, I lied. Everyone got drunk and I told Autumn to shut up, so she made me do  it. 

My knowledge of the CHarc is minimal at best-- Usually an email with "CHarc" in the subject gets put in my "to read later" folder. My personal experience of the CHarc extends to the ability to say "Hey, season 7 hair is terrible," and  to notice that Scully tends to get shot when wearing white. Naturally, I'm the  perfect person to write this article.

First, I will start with my hypothesis. I believed that every man would 
basically have the same opinion of Dana Scully's hair and clothing:  "When do we get a shower scene?" With this thought in mind (my hypothesis, although I admit that I had to think about a shower scene for a few minutes) I  spent the week asking the male X-Files-watching populous what they thought.

The beginning of almost every interview went like this:

Mike: Ok, I have a quick question for you. What do you think of the CHarc on the X-Files?
Person: Huh?
Mike:: Ok, just kidding. What do you think of Dana Scully's Hair and Clothes?
Person: What?
Mike: Ok, look, I know you watch the X-Files. Do you know who Dana Scully is?
Person: The redhead, right?
Mike: Yes. What do you think of her clothes and hair?
Person: (laughing) Are you gay?
Mike: What? No, I'm just asking what you think of Dana Scully's clothes and hair...
Person: uh, huh....

In most cases, I eventually got some sort of response. One group refused to  comment, being more than content to drink beer and watch late-night reruns of Animal House. The rest of the responses are listed below:

• I've always found myself more attracted by women in business suits with skirts as opposed to pants, if that's what you're wanting. I wouldn't mind seeing a  little more casual dress for her on the show at times, though, as opposed to the business suit look. But I do like that which I've seen as well.
• I don't care.
• Let me guess. This is for that O.B whatever whatever you do. Hmmm. Very Professional. She wears a lot of dark clothes -- I don't know if that's good  or bad...   Has her hair changed much at all? Seems it's been the same. I'm  trying to picture her. I don't think she'd look good with short hair....
• She always wears pants. she needs to wear skirts.
• I like it.
• I... Uh... Don't think anything about them.
• Boring.
• Uh... I like her hair better in more recent than older episodes. Maybe because I'm used to it... The Clothes? Typically they're always the same sort of  thing. They're never interesting. It's not like anyone watches it to see what the new outfit will be.

Wha?

You blink, and slowly, the few braincells remaining to you start to
catalogue your squalid surroundings: Towering Pile-O'Laundry (tm). Dead fish in the aquarium.  Plastic incarnations locked in carnal embrace on top of the pile of late video rental tapes. Could it be? Oh, thank you Jesus, it is. Orange juice.

(Author's note: Unless, of course, you did actually wake up in a completely
foreign environment, you tramp, in which case you had better pray you are
still wearing pantyhose.)

What you just experienced was a brief flash of this month's Scary Science
Term, from season 5, episode (insert ep here): VISUAL AGNOSIA.

Agnosia is from the greek: "A" meaning without, and "gnosia" meaning
pasta. No, that's gnocchi. Oopsie. Actually, gnosia is knowledge.   VISUAL AGNOSIA is the inability to recognize and/or categorize familiar objects or surroundings.

(Author's note: I was shocked to realize this was an actual diagnosis, primarily as I once introduced myself to my own aunt at a family gathering.     . Yes, first and last names. . No, it wasn't pretty.)

VISUAL AGNOSIA can be apperceptive, meaning that there is a difficulty in "seeing" an object, or associative, meaning that the object is seen, but not recognized. The inability to see the above-referenced Towering Pile O'Laundry (tm) is apperceptive VISUAL AGNOSIA, and the ability to see the pile, but not be able to recognize it as dirty, or as laundry, is associative VISUAL AGNOSIA. (The inability to deal with the laundry, while seeing and recognizing it is what we in the medical profession refer to as "normal.")

Chronic VISUAL AGNOSIA can be quite difficult to live with. Every day one is faced with questions like,  "Is that an armoire, or a refrigerator in the living room?"  "Is that a UFO in the sky? A weather balloon? Swamp gas?"  "Is that a haircut, or is a wild beaver napping on top of Mulder's head?"   "And who is that woman at the door?  Is it my sister?  So why does she bear no physical resemblance whatsoever to the sister I had last year?"

If you find yourself experiencing visual agnosia, here are some handy do's -n- don'ts for how to handle the situation:
 

Do Seek a qualified medical opinion Keep your personal physician informed as to your condition Become educated about your individual symptomatology Attempt to make positive verbal identifications of the objects surrounding you

Don't Ask someone to drill a hole in your skull Leave your personal physician a cryptic email message and take off for the arctic Rely solely on the conflicting opinions of Drs. K and S. Refer to everyone and everything around you as "The One"

Lastly, do remember that almost everyone experiences transient episodes of VISUAL AGNOSIA.  Relax, take a deep breath, and see if everything goes back to normal once the tequila is out of your system.  That's it for VISUAL AGNOSIA.  See you next month, when the Scary Science word will be .. erm.  that thing.  With the thing.

[The author extends grateful thanks to Julia, in the editing department of The Law Firm of Cathy S. Gen, Glasses ... OK and Colin, Too).]

Yes - another caption.  Start writing!