This came to MACCHAT few minutes ago. But ofcourse will not slip past through the irongrip I have on my list. ---------- Forwarded message ---------- Date: Wed, 7 Jun 1995 18:04:17 +0200 From: mail daemon <[log in to unmask]> To: [log in to unmask], [log in to unmask], [log in to unmask], [log in to unmask], [log in to unmask], [log in to unmask], [log in to unmask], [log in to unmask], [log in to unmask], [log in to unmask], [log in to unmask], [log in to unmask], [log in to unmask], [log in to unmask], [log in to unmask] Subject: 1994: Save this file to floppy before it is too late! This message was originally submitted by [log in to unmask] to the MACCHAT list at VM.TEMPLE.EDU. If you simply forward it back to the list, using a mail command that generates "Resent-" fields (ask your local user support or consult the documentation of your mail program if in doubt), it will be distributed and the explanations you are now reading will be removed automatically. If on the other hand you edit the contributions you receive into a digest, you will have to remove this paragraph manually. Finally, you should be able to contact the author of this message by using the normal "reply" function of your mail program. ---------------- Message requiring your approval (551 lines) ------------------ SAVE THIS FILE TO FLOPPY WHILE YOU STILL CAN 20 MINUTES FROM NOW, IT MAY BE GONE FROM THE SERVER! WARNING: Don't you dare read this story until after Stanford's commencement. Or else you will displease Gerhard Casper. You have been warned. FOLLOW-UP: Please follow-up by posting to the following Usenet newsgroups: su.etc (Stanford community) your local campus/regional/country newsgroup alt.politics.clinton (all others) To conserve bandwidth in the future, may I suggest that you crosspost "1994" to a few appropriate newsgroups, including alt.politics.clinton. Make sure your post does not disappear mysteriously within hours! Check at least three times a day. Don't let Stanford University get away with forged cancels. If your post and/or "1994" disappears, repost immediately and complain to [log in to unmask] (Gerhard Casper) He is the one who ordered that all "1994" posts be forged-cancelled. APOLOGIES: My sincere apologies for posting to the list but there is no other solution, because all posts of "1994" on Usenet newsgroups have been and will be systematically forged-cancelled by Stanford University, pursuant to a private directive by Gerhard Casper, Stanford's president. In light of such relentless censorship, this is the only way to let Stanford students know that their phone calls are still being secretly monitored, without even a court order. If you are at Stanford, let your Business School friends know about the wiretap. They may still be unknowingly discussing personal matters from the courtesy phones in the lobby. * * * "1994" : the story It all began with these fliers I made in 1993 about Foothill College and De Anza College in California. "Clements' List" enumerated about 105 lawsuits against Foothill-De Anza ("FDA") but, by late May 1994, I had printed a "supplement" that showed the existence of an additional 45 or 50 cases. This brought us to about 150 lawsuits against FDA in a decade (not counting the additional fifteen or so that I discovered on June 8), as compared to a grand total of 5 or 6 or 7 against comparable colleges such as West Valley, Gavilan, etc. In parallel to my crusade against FDA, I was also battling Stanford University and its president Gerhard Casper (the renowned Law Scholar who edited the "Briefs of the Supreme Court" collection), because I felt that I had been unjustly harassed by Stanford's Campus Police, a unit of the Santa Clara County Sheriff Department. Starting in December 1993, I occasionally posted a few isolated "Deutschland uber alles" fliers, which sported a large swastika and called Gerhard Casper a Nazi. I met with Sheriff Charles Gillingham in early April 1994 about my Internal Affairs complaint against Stanford Police. Since he didn't do anything despite his letter to me, in mid May I started calling Armand Tiano, the challenger for the upcoming Sheriff election, and I leaked to him whatever information I had on Gillingham. I made all my calls for free from one of the courtesy phones in the lobby of the Business School at Stanford. Casper's office and Stanford Police knew where I was calling from since they have "Caller ID" within Stanford's privately run phone system. This displayed the number and location of the phone I was using. In late May, I released on several newsgroups of the Internet computer network a phony story accusing President Casper and Stanford Police Chief Herrington of embezzling Stanford's monies. Shortly thereafter, on June 4, 1994, I was again harassed and detained 15 minutes by Stanford's Sheriff deputies. Thanks to object-oriented design, it took me hardly a couple of days to churn out my last flier "das Vierte Reich im Stanford" by assembling existing files that I had on floppy disk, such as Paul Biddle's lawsuit against Stanford and excerpts of the novel "Rising Sun." The flier referred to Stanford's president as "ReichsOberKommandant Kasper," had a cute little swastika, and explained the cover-up of my Internal Affairs complaint. On June 7, election day, I walked throughout downtown Palo Alto and handed out my double-sided flier to about 500 store owners and offices in buildings. My flier included an implicit call to vote for Tiano rather than reelect Sheriff Gillingham. On June 8, I went to California Avenue in Palo Alto at about 11 am and distributed my flier to store owners on the South side. Around noon, I took a break and, on the second floor of the Municipal Court building, I pulled the microfiche index for the small claims lawsuits. I had already written down on little bits of scratch paper the titles and case numbers of about 30 new lawsuits against Stanford and about twelve against FDA when suddenly, at 12:27, a Foothill College Police Officer walked up to me and said, "Albert, I have a warrant for your arrest. Don't move." The officer (Fountaine) gathered my possessions and bits of paper into my backpack. I asked to see the warrant but he said that the warrant had been relayed to him over the phone and that he did not have it. He took me into his car and drove me to the Foothill College Police station. There, I asked again to see the warrant. Police Chief Tom Conom said that: (1) he did not have it; (2) it had been issued by the Sheriff; (3) it was a warrant for failure to appear in court following a jaywalking citation in Sunnyvale in 1992; (4) he had been notified of the warrant over the phone and hence, according to the law, he did not have to show it to me. Chief Conom said that I had three hours to make up to three local phone calls and try to have the $297 bail paid on my behalf. After perhaps 40 minutes, a woman came in and introduced herself as "senior Border Patrol agent Millie Creager." She said that she suspected me of being an illegal alien; that she had been investigating me for over a month; that Foothill College had just phoned her to notify her of my arrest; that she would place an "immigration hold" on me while I was detained by local authorities; that therefore I could not possibly be released on bail and hence there was no point in my trying to raise money for the bail. While she was leaving, I overheard the Japanese Dean of Student Affairs whispering to her and warmly thanking her for helping the College to get rid of me at long last (1). I appeared in Sunnyvale Municipal Court the next day, June 9, at 1:30 pm before judge O'Grady. The court papers showed the citation number as T 139 135 and the warrant number as E00 526 309. The Public Defender walked across the aisles before the hearing, talking to each arraignee for about five minutes. When she came to me, she said that she could not find my case on her calendar and therefore could not talk to me. When my case was called, the Deputy District Attorney did not bother making any prosecuting statement as she had done for all other arraignees, the Public Defender did not come forward and address the court as she had done for all other arraignees, the judge was told that I had already spent one day in jail and he dismissed the charges. Here again, neither the judge nor I was shown the warrant. The Public Defender, the District Attorney, and the judge worked for the same Santa Clara County (Silicon Valley, fifty miles south of San Francisco), just like Sheriff Charles Gillingham. On June 10 I was transferred to the Border Patrol station in Dublin and housed at night in the Alameda County "Santa Rita" jail. My little bits of paper with names of lawsuits were still in my backpack then. In the afternoon I was "roughed up" and kicked several times by a Border Patrol agent, visibly on orders of Millie Creager, because I still refused to answer questions. On June 14 in the morning, I finished handwriting a petition for writ of habeas corpus, put it in a stamped envelope, sealed it and addressed it to the US District Court in San Francisco, and handed it to a jail deputy. Just then, a Border Patrol agent (agent Antoine) came in to escort me back to Dublin and he confiscated my envelope from the hands of the jail deputy. Back in Dublin around 11 am, I saw my petition, extracted from the sealed envelope, in the hands of the officer in charge of the Border Patrol station. In the afternoon, Millie Creager typed out an "Order to Show Cause" listing the immigration charges against me. These differed from those which she had read aloud at Foothill on June 8. Later, I realized that the new charges, typed in the afternoon of June 14, had been cleverly designed to deflect the intended defense that I had outlined in my petition for habeas corpus. Late in the afternoon, I was transferred by bus to the Los Angeles office of the Immigration and Naturalization Service ("INS") and, a day later, to the El Centro INS detention center in the Sierra desert, next door to Death Valley, where I arrived on June 16 in the morning. (In the summer, daytime temperatures howered around 128 Fahrenheit degrees, which is 53 Celcius degrees.) My little bits of paper with names of lawsuits were no longer in my backpack. I have no idea what interest a federal agency like the US Border Patrol, or a federal agent like Millie Creager, had in confiscating bits of paper that listed titles of lawsuits against a local state college such as Foothill and a private university, Stanford. In El Centro, in contrast to the other arrivals who were handed a light blue garb and were escorted to the common "barracks" which house 120 persons each, I was assigned the red uniform normally reserved for the most dangerous criminals (I have no criminal record and had never been arrested until June 8) and I was dragged into an individual cell in the isolation building where those in the barracks who have broken a rule serve a punishment ranging from 24 hours to two weeks. I was kept in isolation until about July 13. Whereas the other detainees in isolation were allowed every day to get out to make phone calls, I was prevented from doing so. I was told by an INS supervisor, "We have special orders about you, you're not allowed to make phone calls." After a week, around June 22, I had a hearing before an immigration judge (judge Staton) and he ordered the INS trial attorney (Mr. Cantero, Esq.) to allow me to make phone calls so that I could find an attorney. INS contempt- uously disregarded the judge's order and I could not make a call until after July 13. Not only was I in a red uniform, locked in an isolation cell with special orders such as no phone calls, no access to the law library, no medication (even my Tylenol tablets were taken from me), no visits by attorneys (a local lawyer who visits new arrivals put my name on his list - only my name was not called), nothing to read, no radio or TV, nobody to talk to. But also I was detained without bond, which meant that I could not be released on bail, I had to remain detained and in isolation. Several other detainees with a lengthy history of violent crimes had a bond set at $5,000 to $15,000. Those with no criminal record usually had bail set at five hundred dollars. It took INS four weeks to understand that I was made of tougher meat than they thought and was not about to waive my rights and beg to be deported. By the end of June, from my little isolation cell I had smuggled out of the camp a habeas corpus petition, to replace the one which had been confiscated in Dublin; a friend filed it in court on my behalf in early July. My second hearing, set for July 19, was approaching and, on July 13, INS decided to release me into the "barracks" rather than face a contempt of court order. Once there, I started making phone calls and succeeded in contacting many attorneys all around the country. It took me a long time, but ultimately I managed to file several petitions for writ of habeas corpus in the San Diego US District Court, and the court ordered INS to file a reply to my petitions. I had a letter to the editor published in the local newspaper, the Imperial Valley Press. I notified the Office of the Inspector General ("OIG") of the US Department of Justice in Washington of the many civil rights violations that I had observed. I finally was able to go to the rather meager law library of the detention center, where I looked up the applicable cases. I learned a lot about immigration law from a little textbook being circulated in the barracks, "Immigration Law and Procedure in a Nutshell" by West Publishing. I had a bond hearing finally in mid October, and the judge set my bail at one thousand dollars. I started calling friends to raise money for the bond. I also filed a bond appeal with the BIA (Board of Immigration Appeals) and took advantage of my appeal brief to attack the merits of the whole case against me. My mail (only mine) was being opened by INS and was occasionally confiscated, just like my phone calls (only mine) were being monitored at the local Pacific Bell exchange, probably by the FBI on behalf of INS. An immigrant assistance hotline in San Francisco mailed me pamphlets entitled, "Immigrant: know your rights" printed in English, Spanish, and Chinese. They never reached me. I contacted an agency in Los Angeles which had a pending lawsuit against INS over detention conditions. They sent me a questionnaire so that they could add me to their lawsuit as a plaintiff. I never received it. The booths where family and lawyers came to visit detainees were enhanced with hidden microphones. Finally INS started getting tired of me, as I was turning out to be quite indigestible. Because of my phone calls to the OIG and the ensuing investigation, my letter to the newspaper, the legal advice I gave to the other detainees, I was causing INS more trouble than the case against me was worth. From the contents of my petitions for habeas corpus and of my brief on appeal to the BIA, INS realized than it could never win the case against me. More precisely, even if it won in immigration court, the decision would be reversed on appeal either by the BIA or by the US Ninth Circuit Court of Appeals on constitutional grounds, resulting in a published opinion that would permanently handicap INS in the future. The questionnaire on detention conditions was the last straw. My bond had been set at $1,000, but INS unilaterally lowered my bond to the $500 minimum in late November, even though I had not asked for anything. I suspect that INS wanted to get rid of me. I was released on bond on November 30. I could barely walk out the door that day, I had almost lost usage of my legs after a final seven weeks of isolation, being locked all day in a 6 ft. by 10 ft. cell (two by three meters). I appeared for my deportation hearing on December 13 in El Centro and judge Staton dismissed the case against me, in other words I won my case. Because of a technicality (a prior ruling in the Ninth Circuit), INS is unlikely to try again against me - it would lose again, unnecessarily inflicting on itself an unfavorable precedent. My detention has all been for nothing. I spent almost six months (June 8 to November 30) in detention without bail at taxpayers' expense. I was not a convict serving a sentence, but rather innocent and awaiting trial. In El Centro, I was kept in isolation globally over three months, which is more than half the time. All this for a 1992 jaywalking ticket. Or so they say. In reality there was no hearing date; there was no warrant for failure to appear; and therefore no legal basis for my arrest. There was only an empty "warrant number" handcrafted by Sheriff Gillingham. The June 8 arrest was made only to provide an excuse to bring in a Border Patrol agent and transfer me to INS to have me deported. Otherwise INS would not have been able to arrest me; INS needs "probable cause" to stop someone and there was none in my case. See below: (1) I had had a jaywalking ticket in Sunnyvale in 1992. I tried to pay it and repeatedly called the traffic court every other week. After three months I was told to stop calling: my ticket had never been forwarded to the court and now never would be, the clerk stated. (2) For the sake of argument, had my ticket been forwarded to the court, there was a notation in the court's computer that I had done my duty and called to ask for the hearing date. Therefore, had a judge called my case, he would have dismissed the charges, or otherwise sent a notice of hearing; he would not have issued a warrant. (3) For the sake of argument, had a warrant been issued from the bench for failure to appear in traffic court, it would have been a "bench warrant" (Penal Code sections 978.5, 983) signed by a judge, not a regular warrant signed by Sheriff Charles Gillingham himself. (4) The statute of limitations precluded issuance of any warrant one year after the citation was issued. See Pen. 802(a) "Prosecution for an offense shall be commenced within one year after commission of the offense." See also Pen. 804 for the definition of "prosecution." But Sheriff Charles Gillingham issued the "warrant number" some time in May 1994, more than 18 months after the citation. (5) Per Pen. 842, the arresting officer must show the warrant to the person arrested "as soon as practicable." Even more than 24 hours later in Muni court, I still was not shown the warrant in spite of my repeated requests. This means that there was no warrant. At most there was an empty "shell," a bogus warrant number (E00 526 309) inserted into the Sheriff's computer. But there was no actual "paper warrant" and no paperwork in a physical file documenting issuance of a warrant. The arrest was staged. (6) Pen. 982 defines a "non-bailable offense." Jaywalking is not yet such an offense. Since the goal was to keep me in custody, prevent me from consulting a lawyer, and hopefully intimidate me into quickly signing deportation papers (as is done with 99% of the Latinos arrested by INS), senior Border Patrol agent Millie Creager was instructed to keep me in custody without bond. All non-political INS arrestees are usually set a bond at the time of arrest, ranging from $500 to $15,000, depending on their criminal record. They are released on bail within hours. Already Foothill College officials had suspended me from classes for two weeks because of the fliers I had posted (see Superior Court case *730 187). They had procured a temporary restraining order and an injunction silencing me for three years (case *731 107), based on the fantastic allegations ("He accused the Dean of patronizing red light district singles bars" ; "he would come on campus with a machine gun and commit mass murder") detailed in the flier "Your Tax Dollars At Work." Foothill officials did not enjoy too much my listing in "Clements' List" these 105 lawsuits, including the five fraud lawsuits pers- onally involving Foothill's president Tom Clements. Nor my linking in the flier "FA-FDA" the campaign funds of three FDA Trustees to the Shupe & Finkelstein Law Firm in San Mateo, whose partners are the primary beneficiaries of the filing of so many lawsuits - they get over $10,000 for each case they defend, and all cases filed against FDA go to them. Nor my posting on the Internet in late 1993 these fourteen files detailing all the scandals at Foothill and De Anza. Stanford did not like my swastika flier against president Casper, which I posted at Stanford in mid December 1993. It said basically: "Deutschland, Deutschland uber alles KALIFORNIA KOLLABORAZION KASPER, ein Nazi? John Shalikashvili's Was Kasper's father father, Dimitri, was 'Klaus the Terrible' an elite Waffen SS... the Gestapo Chief in Dachau?" (I guess they don't have much of a sense of humor at Stanford.) So Stanford Police stopped me near the Tresidder cafeteria on December 17, 1993, questioned me about the flier and about my opinion of President Casper, and duly photographed me for their files of suspects - I was now a certified political suspect with profile and picture on file, soon-to-be political prisoner. Stanford didn't like my posting on the Internet in early January 1994 the text of some embarrassing lawsuits (Zahedi and Vezzolini). Perhaps they didn't like my lawsuits against them nor my subsequent Internet postings. They didn't like my letter to the editor, published sometime in spring 1994 in the conservative student newspaper Stanford Review, exhorting Stanford students to do as I had done against Foothill and file a lawsuit against Stanford to strike down the "Grey interpretation" speech code. A few weeks after my letter was printed, they followed my advice, filed suit, and in the end won the case on February 27, 1995. Surely Stanford didn't like my draft flier "Schindler's List" - a more sophisticated, richly illustrated version of "Clements' List" that I was working on in early March 1994 in various computer centers at Stanford. This highly graphical artwork featured an elegant swastika on which was engraved in fine print, "OberKommandant Kasper sleeps with... Palo Alto Police Chief Chris Durkin." On March 12, 1994, while I was editing this flier on a MacIntosh computer in the Terman library at Stanford, a draft printout of the flier was removed from my desk. Later in the day, a librarian approached me with a B'B' student who then complained aloud about the offensive contents of the material displayed on my computer screen (the swastika). The librarian had my draft flier in his hand. The student turned to leave, then suddenly said, "Oh, one more thing." He swiftly extracted a camera from his pocket and summarily took my picture. Once again, I found myself a registered suspect of political incorrectness. By then, president Casper's office, which I had called a few times, had discovered through Caller ID that I was calling from the Business School courtesy phones. Several times in 1994, I was puzzled by the lack of a dial tone when I hung up briefly before making a second call, a phenomenon I was to encounter again when making calls in El Centro a few months later. When I repeatedly called Sheriff challenger Armand Tiano at the end of May to leak damaging news about the Sheriff Department, conspire with him against Gillingham, and talk about contacting the media, someone was listening. Whether the wiretap had been authorized by Gerhard Casper himself, or only by Police Chief Herrington, I never found out. Incidentally, all 600 Business School students calling from the courtesy phones in the lobby had their calls listened to because of me. At least in the first half of 1994. Whenever they called their lover or their lawyer, made an appointment for an abortion, or learned their SIV test results from the VD clinic, benevolent Big Brother was listening. But remember, Stanford is private. They have the right to listen: it's THEIR phones. Just like they have the right to employ Caller ID without telling anybody (it cannot be blocked anyway), so they have the right to monitor all vibrations and sonic waves emanating from their property, if only to watch for imminent earthquakes. In mid January 1994, one evening in a computer center at Stanford around 9 pm, my "bag" which contained over 100 MacIntosh floppy disks (with all my lawsuits and complaints, all my letters, all my personal notes) was "taken" while I had a snack and a cup of coffee. I placed fliers all around the building and in the elevators asking that my bag, if found, be returned to the Main Desk in the computer center. Two days later, it reappeared. From mid Fall 1993, I had found myself bumping accidentally, more and more often and all over campus, into a young lady known as "Jenny." She was not a Stanford student. Rather, she posed as one of the educated "bums" who hang around at Stanford and feed on the many parties and official receptions paid for by your taxes. She showed up every day at 10 pm at the Tresidder Student Union for free slices of left-over pizza. She was everywhere. All the time. >From late 1993, every evening that I went to that computer center, I found her in the building, sometimes as late as 10 or 11 pm, just walking around or seemingly making a phone call. It is much later that I learned she was an informant for Stanford Police. Late night assignments are paid at overtime rate, and perhaps she got an extra bonus every once in a while for just "borrowing" things for her masters. Since Sheriff deputies may not search without a valid search warrant, sometimes they have to use extra help. Parenthetically, Stanford's "Sheriff" deputies are paid with Stanford's private funds, not by the county. So they really are private militiamen, despite their badge and uniform that proudly proclaim "Santa Clara County." They are "Sheriffs" in name only. At the time, I lived of water and clean air and, sporadically, of a few free slices not yet snatched by Jenny. I was not employed. Whoever listened to my phone calls learned that, when replying to ads in the paper, I never applied for a salaried position that would require showing documents. To support my addictions such as caffeine, I only made a few dollars now and then by participating in a marketing or research study. Sometime in May 1994, an innocent looking ad appeared in the Stanford Daily, seeking volunteers for a study on handwriting: "One hour, $12, provide handwriting samples." I called the number, it was an office on California Avenue in Palo Alto. I was told that I would get $12 for providing handwriting samples but that, above all, I had to bring documents such as a Social Security card etc. They heavily insisted on that. I was given an appointment for a few days later. I never went. Surely, in my calls to friends made from Stanford, I had occasionally conversed about matters such as fake documents... I could have gone. I was tempted to go and make a quick buck, easily. Yet something in my subconscious mind found it suspicious that, for a mere $12 study, one would bother insisting on documents, expanding probably way over $12 in processing such paperwork. I smelled entrapment. Volunteers for a study are merely compensated for their time, they are not paid employees hired for a position and are an obvious legal exception to the law requiring that new hires show employment authorization. Besides, handwriting samples sounded too much like the kind of evidence admissible in court. To this day, I remain convinced that it was a bogus ad, targeted at me and designed to tempt me into producing fake documents, a felony. In late May and early June 1994, from the Stanford courtesy phones I telephoned friends, asking them to come with me and help me to distribute thousands of fliers against Foothill and Stanford at the following events: . Stanford's commencement on June 12. . Foothill's and De Anza's commencement on June 16. . Above all, the soccer (football) World Cup, to begin around June 18 at Stanford Stadium, bringing with it a crowd of over 60,000 and a TV audience of over one billion around the globe. Plus the media of the whole world, including thousands of journalists from far-away countries who can't easily be pressured by the local establishment and perhaps would relish in covering the sex scandals at Foothill, De Anza, and Stanford; the irradiation of Shaye Zahedi, Stanford's local Silkwood; and Paul Biddle's lawsuit documenting the $400 million in federal grants embezzled by Stanford. >From these courtesy phones, I also called the Foothill Trustees in late May and warned that I would wait until the beginning of July to leak to the media the trash that I had managed to dig up on Foothill's newly chosen president, to be installed July 1st. Something had to be done. Quickly. >From the many megabytes of data in the 100 floppy disks they had borrowed, Stanford and Foothill had combed the most intimate details of my private life over the past decade. Still nothing. No crime, no warrant, no fraud, no sex scandal, no nothing. Only an obscure jaywalking citation already two years old, long dismissed and forgotten by the Sunnyvale traffic court. You already know the rest of the story. Perhaps I should be thankful that I was only deported to the desert. With a little help from my friends, I could have accidentally ended like Karen Silkwood. Or Oswald. Or Ruby. Or Marilyn Monroe. Or like these several Cessna pilots who knew too much about the Rose Law Firm (2). After all, I did know too much about the Frankenstein Law Firm in San Mateo. I am seeking a publisher for my memoirs. Should I call them "American Papillon" ? "Les Miserables II" ? "El Centro de concentracion" ? "Gulag in Death Valley" ? Or just "Felony Jaywalking" ? I prefer "1994." =================================================== (1) Compare with the exchange of prisoners related on pages 29, 36 of the following volume: Title: The blue lotus. Author: Herge. Publisher: Little, Brown and Company. First published in 1934. Color artwork Copyright 1956. Original edition: "Le lotus bleu" by Editions Casterman. (2) Steve Dickson, Herschel Friday, Stanley Heard, Montgomery Raiser, Victor Raiser, Ronald Rogers. See 'Body count' at http://www.cs.dartmouth.edu/~crow/whitewater/scandal.html or otherwise [log in to unmask] Cheers.. __ ||| ___MMM___ ||| (o o) (0-0) (o o) ---------oOO--\ /--OOo-----oOO--(_)--OOo-----ooO--\ /--Ooo-------- N. Sriram | [log in to unmask] | http://monroe.temple.edu Unixmenu Developer, Macintosh Archivist, WWW Builder, User-Support. Mama always told me "Speak for yourself Son, the World will listen" ===================================================================