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125 lines
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Plaintext
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_____________ _/_/ | | \ \ _/_/ _____________
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| ___________ _/_/ | | \ \ _/_/ ___________ |
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| | _/_/_____ | | > > _/_/_____ | |
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| | /________/ | | / / /________/ | |
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| | c o m m u n i c a t i o n s | |
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| |________________________________________________________________| |
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|____________________________________________________________________|
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...presents... The Power of Art
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by THE NIGHTSTALKER
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>>> a cDc publication.......1993 <<<
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-cDc- CULT OF THE DEAD COW -cDc-
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____ _ ____ _ ____ _ ____ _ ____
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|____digital_media____digital_culture____digital_media____digital_culture____|
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After reading the 200th cDc release, I was inspired to write this truly
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offensive tale. I assure you all; I was as deeply offended by this story while
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writing it as you will be by reading it.
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THE NIGHTSTALKER
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A Proud Member of cDc.
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"I got yer udder right here, pal!"
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______________________________________________________________________________
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I have been plagued for the past year with an unusual bowel complaint. My
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stools, instead of being moist and soft and easy to pass, have instead been
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hard, dry, huge and agonizing to pass. My doctor tells me that this is merely
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part of growing old and he prescribes various drugs and dietary supplements.
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They work, and provide me with relief. But for the past six months, I've not
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taken them, and now suffer again.
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Lest you think me some manner of masochist, be aware that I am an artist,
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and incorporate my feces into artwork. I embed them in clear cast plastic
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blocks. These are not meant for the art market. No, they serve a higher
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purpose.
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Yesterday, I felt a truly huge turd in my rectum, pressing against the
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anal sphincter. I had prepared the mold earlier that day, and was ready to
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create art. The first layer of clear cast was colored with a bilious green,
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glow in the dark dye, the better to set off the rich brown of the turd.
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Another layer of plastic, a few inches thick, had been poured into the mold and
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had hardened. The next layer of plastic was in its capped jug, awaiting the
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addition of catalyst. The microfine gold dust and the simple punched brass
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rectangle border were at hand. All was ready.
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I could wait no longer, I must pass this awful thing now. As I squat over
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the bucket filled with glycerine, I pour the catalyst into the jug and stir it
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carefully, so as not to introduce air bubbles into the mixture. My art must be
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perfect. I strain and push, my ears roar and my vision seems suffused with a
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red mist. The pain, the agony is unbearable, yet I continue to strain and
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push. Death would be preferable right now, but art must be satisfied!
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The enormous hard, dry turd slowly pushes its way past the anal sphincter.
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I know there will be blood, there often is. The turd hits the glycerine and
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slowly sinks to the bottom of the bucket. I weep with relief. The pain is
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still there, but lessened. I carefully dab at my bleeding anus with pure white
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toilet paper. There is much blood. Good.
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I take care as I place the stained toilet paper onto the block of clear
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cast plastic. It must be positioned just right. I slowly pour the liquid
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plastic onto the paper, covering it and positioning the paper in the swiftly
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jelling stuff. Ah, perfect.
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I mix another batch of clear cast and catalyst. While I wait for it to
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begin to jell, I don my plastic gloves and oh-so-carefully remove the bloodied
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turd from the bucket of glycerine. I dry it with hot air from a hair dryer and
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paper towels. Using a set of false teeth, hinged at the back, I take a 'bite'
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from it, making sure that the teeth marks are quite plain. Yes, this is going
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to be a good one.
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I take great pains to place the turd properly on the almost hardened
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plastic. I sprinkle the gold dust around it in a pleasing pattern. A quick
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spray of diluted catalyst sets the gold dust into place, so that I may pour the
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next to last layer of plastic into the mold without disturbing the gold dust.
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Finally, I place the carefully tooled brass frame into place onto the hardening
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plastic and then pour the final layer into place. I must now wait for at least
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48 hours before I can remove the block of plastic from its Teflon mold for
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finishing.
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Ah, it is done. The surface has been polished and this is truly one of my
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best works. The block looks like fine crystal.
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I don new gloves, and carefully wrap and package this work of art.
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Sealing the box, I apply a return address label bearing the name and address of
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the person, who, 30 years ago accused me of a petty theft to cover his own
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schoolroom thieving. This caused me to lose my place on the honor roll in
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fifth grade.
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I thought long and hard as to whom I should send this work of art. I have
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decided this should be shared with the people of the United States. Tonight, I
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shall visit the computer room where this fellow works, and use one of the
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computers and printers to produce the mailing label (having almost full access
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there when I wear my janitor costume and carry a bucket and mop). I will
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weigh the package and use the company postage meter. The mailing label will
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read:
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Ms. Chelsea Clinton
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The White House
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1600 Pennsylvania Avenue, N.W.
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Washington, D.C. 20500
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_______ __________________________________________________________________
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/ _ _ \|Demon Roach Undrgrnd.806/794-4362|Kingdom of Shit.....806/794-1842|
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((___)) |Cool Beans!..........510/THE-COOL|Polka AE {PW:KILL}..806/794-4362|
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[ x x ] |Ripco................312/528-5020|Moody Loners w/Guns.415/221-8608|
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\ / |The Works............617/861-8976|Finitopia...........916/673-8412|
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(' ') |Lunatic Labs.........213/655-0691|ftp - ftp.eff.org in pub/cud/cdc|
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(U) |==================================================================|
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.ooM |Copr. 1993 cDc communications by THE NIGHTSTALKER 01/01/93-#206|
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\_______/|All Rights Drooled Away. SIX GLORIOUS YEARS of cDc|
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