CHOPPERGIRL'S AIRWAR

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CHOPPERGIRL

Violence Discordia

the original dark horse and bad girl of aviation








Cotton Candy / Ice Cream Sandwich / Pink Tips Dog Fight Battle Colors

What if you could design your child anyway you wanted it to be...
instead of settling for whatever random thing popped out of your Vajayjay...
would it look like this?




Email: choppergirl@air-war.org

I am an anarchist.
I oppose statism, a widespread rotten, cancerous disease of the mind.
I am a pacifist and peaceful foremost, but not above responding with violence
to defend my freedom when some asshole cranks up shit with me.
You don't want to dance with me in a dog fight.
I come on like a freight train.
I am free. Nobody rules over me. No stranger, no friend, nobody.

Raw, unadulterated freedom.

You have no social contract with me.
Your asshole country is not my country.
Your fake ass flag is not my flag.
Your imaginary god is not my god.
Your arbitrary rules are not my rules.
Your bizarre morals are not my morals.

You didn't invent any of them at all, so what makes you really think any of them are yours?
They are not.

Someone else invented them, brainwashed you with propaganda, and you swallowed them hook line and sinker.
Don't be nothing more than a tool to repeat and regurgitate their viral idea rubbish.

Your historically proven wicked state, corrupt rules with ulterior motives, and imaginary god can go fuck itself.
Don't be a tool and a whore bitch to someone else's made up bullshit that did not spring from the fountain of your own mind.



Turn on a dime like the devil and climb like a monkey.
I am the burning sword of true freedom.



I am not your leader. You do not need a leader. Lead yourself.
Stand with me on the side of raw, unadulterated freedom, or stand against me...
I leave you alone, and you leave me alone, and we are golden.
You don't try and tell me what the fuck I can and can not do, because I don't try to tell you.

Anything else could be war.







People ask me if I am really a girl? I don't know, what do you think?

My official answer: "No, I'm really a chopper"

The real answer: I'm a raw force of nature.











Victory loves Preparation,
and Fortune Favors the Bold
No Plan Survives First Enemy Contact
And few warriors grow old








Play with me. You know you wanna. Press Play, engage the Combat Music SubSystem.
Or, if you want to go old skool, crank up the Battlefield Vietnam Soundtrack.



In real life, I'm probably just another nobody in the middle of nowhere...
but in my own private Idaho, I'm a deadly weapon.



Let's test it. Go ahead, pick up that gun.
You're a soldier. I'm a warrior.

For five years, I massively modded a game called Battlefield 2142,
to fix all the game play bugs in it, flexing my game design and Python skills.
It was a brutal experience. I became hardcore, the meanest damn top dog 2142 pilot ever.
That project was called
AIRWAR.

But now, all that's gone and changed.
Now, I am restoring a little dragonfly of an airplane I named Dorothy. :-)

My Choppergirl / Airwar Youtube Channel

My Flying with Christina Youtube Channel

My profile on HomeBuiltAirplanes.com

Twitter Page

What if when I died, there actually was a heaven or a hell, and my gamer girl personality came up to me to be my companion and navigate me through it all, like George McDonald did for the narrator in The Great Divorce, or Virgil did for the narrator in Dante's Inferno. I think I would have a heart attack from the shock. So what happens when you die a second time, inside heaven or hell?





CHOPPERGIRL's DICTA

In a dogfight, I'm a crazy bitch.

Always turn to face your enemy. Never look them in the face. They are nothing but targets. Identify the most dangerous skilled enemy in the room and tangle with them alone while avoiding all other engagements or combat. You are a deadly quick mongoose fighting a dangerous son of a bitch cobra. Your entire mind is a fucking battle computer focused on taking them out in a dance of death. Skirt around and deny the damage he is trying to deal your way, and dishing it out in overwhelming fire power where you anticipate him to be before he is there. Neglilgate all his lesser compatriat punks, until you flame him firsrt and take the toughest opponent out of the picture.

Once your nemesis is taken out, mop up and process all the lesser rubbish like a sewing machine going through a slaughterhouse. It doesn't matter if you are in a fighter plane, a street fight, or a prison yard show down... battle is all the same. Love battle and run to it. Thrive on it. Sharpen your sword against the best of the best, and add every foe's dirty tricks to you bag of dirty tricks. If you can squirrel that motherfucker, do it. See the battle and engage in it, before he squirrels your daydreaming ass.

The bigger the odds the fucking better. Love oblivion. Smell the air. Do you smell that? That is death. Every day is a good day to die. Everyone must die; you die taking out as many of your fucking enemies with you as you can. That is what life is about. It is the only way for your soul to find peace.

That is the CHOPPERGIRL WAY. You go down fighting taking down as many of your motherfucking enemies with you as you can.



But not today. Today you are bullet proof.







How I got my name

I picked my nickname out why flying Hueys in the BF1 demo. In the beginning I wasn't terribly interested in all the shooting, but what found I really loved to do was fly, so I'd rush to get the Huey and would like shuttle players back and forth from the aircraft carrier to shore, or fly low through the jungle. I'd call this "Choppergirl Air" and like post funny messages like "Thank you for flying Choppergirl Air!" and "The Stewardess will be with you shortly!". The Huey rocked, it was like quintessential Vietnam. The Bird is the Word. It flew like a tub but who cared. I'd come in low and hot into the LZ through the jungle, and park it on a dime.

All those first days in the demo seems like a million years ago now. You don't want to tangle or dance with me in the air. Well, maybe you do. :-) I'm now a hardcore warrior and old, tired, seasoned world weary admin and game modder. I've developed stand alone video games of my own, but for the purposes of this website, I'll stick to the massive mods I've done to Battlefield.

I've run highly modified Battlefield 2142 demo, 2142 full game, Battlefield 2 demo, and Battlefield 2 full game servers, all called CHOPPERGIRL's AIRWAR. Over the years I've pour thousands of hours into these heavily modified servers, all to make the game more hardcore, action packed, balanced, and intense.


My Gunship



This is the aircraft I fly in the game. Its called a gunship, but I call it a chopper. Its kind of a futuristic hovercraft version of an attack helicopter, using VTOL thrust instead of helicopter blades to keep it airborne and move it about. I prefer the PAC gunship as pictures above, because it has a prettier color scheme than the EU gunship, which is sort of a dark gun metal black.

People complain about one gunship being superior to another, with different characteristics, but I ignore all differences and fly them both the same with no thought. As far as I'm concerned they are identical weapons to me in combat: they both fly, they both shoot missles, and they both shoot TV guided missles. That's all I care about in combat. Everything else is irrelevant. If it can shoot anything I will use it.

Most combat aircraft have their strength and weaknesses compared to what the enemy is fielding in the sky, so you have to learn your aircraft's strengths and your enemy's aircraft's weaknesses, and steer combat into a situation where your strengths play to your advantage and avoid being at a serious and fatal disadvantage because of your aircraft's weaknesses. But in the game, both aircraft are so closely matched its irrelevant and anyone that whines otherwise is just full of it. You fly what you can get your hands on and make the best of it no matter what, even if its a cardboard box or a bathtub.



This is Rapunzel, my gunship in real life (particularly when I'm carrying my shotgun slung around my back, should I have to tangle with a rattlesnake out in the desert). She is a 17 horsepower 1981 Honda Rebel, but before you talk any smack, she gets 80 miles to the gallon and has more than enough torque for me. And she has a carbeurator from the gods, she cranks up every time and purrs like a kitten. Beat that. As you can see, I've modded her, mostly to keep her running, and most visibly, with stickers.

I have since repainted Rapunzel and given her some new colors and stickers... which you can see below...









 


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Contact & Website Administrator: choppergirl@air-war.org