222 lines
8.1 KiB
Plaintext
222 lines
8.1 KiB
Plaintext
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'##::::'##:::'#####:::'########: VIVA LA REVOLUCION! CERDO DEL CAPITALISTA!!
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##:::: ##::'##.. ##:: ##.....:: ===========================================
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##:::: ##:'##:::: ##: ##::::::: THE HELOTS OF ECSTASY PRESS RELEASE #450 !!
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#########: ##:::: ##: ######::: ZIEGO VUANTAR SHALL BE MUCH VICTORIOUS! !!
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##.... ##: ##:::: ##: ##...:::: ===========================================
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##:::: ##:. ##:: ##:: ##::::::: "Obituary for IM2K" !!
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##:::: ##::. #####::: ########: by -> AIDS !!
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..:::::..::::.....::::........:: 1/18/99 !!
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!!========================================================================!!
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"i ache. ultimately, in the end you realize that all this going
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to happen anyway, so you just lose hope. the internet hype will
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explode a jillion times more than it is today, even more people
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will hop on "the net." we'll see a whole slew of of
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commercialisation, legal battles, and media stores. we can only
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pray that ultimatly (sic), after all this change has taken place
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that will happen over the next ten years and onward, that the
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internet will still be relatively "free." i imagine that i'll
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still be along for the ride, as depressing as it is."
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- IM2K, dto #002
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Ah, long may you live to regret that last statement, IM2K,
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because we can all picture you gunned down in the hot San Diego night, or
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stabbed into bloody ruins in some abandoned Tijuana alleyway. The method
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is, as all specifics, an unimportant thing. To me at least. All that
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matters is that you're dead. You never lived on to see everything you
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predicted in that piece of prophecy come true. You knew the truth,
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though, and your survivors have to live with Prodigy and AOL having full
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internet access, and the blight of an ever inflating USENET, where the
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static to noise ratio is out of control.
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Ah yes, IM2K, though I didn't know you, I mourn you, because from
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reading your excellent old school HOE FILE about chat boards, (#74 for
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your archivists out there) I understand you. When you write, "I think
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it's slowly dawning on me that I'm actually NOT funny and I only amuse
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myself," you write for me, and you write for all the other pathetic
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gimps out there who spend pointless amounts of time saying stupid
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non-sequitors and random strings of nonsense. We get the joke, even if
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no one else does.
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Other people in HOE have died, Ashtray Heart, for example, but
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their losses aren't felt like yours. They weren't there during the
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Golden Age of HOE, #51-90, and they weren't part of the genuine magic.
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I hear something outside right now, so I'll have to go
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investigate it, but when I come back, I'll continue writing this
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obituary and memorial to you, IM2K.
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[Enter Ghost]
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Hor. Look, My Lord, it comes!
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AIDS. Oh priets and nuns who enjoy the charity of Heaven, defend us!
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Are you carrying good stuff from God or evil stuff from Hell?
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Be thy intents good or charitable?
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Your shape is mighty strange.
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I'll talk to you, man, and I'll call you IM2K
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King, HOE writer, American legend. O, answer me!
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Don't let me bust a nut in this ignornance, but tell
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why your interred bones, hearsed in death
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Came out of the grave like zombies in Micahel Jakson's "THriller"
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Why the sepulchre has let you free without any narration from
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Vince Price. Whay may this mean, that you, nebulous HOE jackass
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again in cum stained tshirts and filthy jeans
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Returns the moon's shine, making the night real ugly like,
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and us mortal folk, Shake in our britches,
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With thoughts that normal people shouldn't be having?
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Say, why is this? Wherefore? What should we do?
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[Ghost beckons AIDS]
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Hor. It beckons you to go away with it,
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As if it some impartment did desire
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to you alone.
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Mar. Look with what courteous action
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It waves you to a more removed ground
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But do not go with it!
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Hor. No, by no means!
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AIDS. He's gotta talk. Then'll I go with him.
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Hor. Do not, my lord!
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AIDS. Why should I be scared?
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My life isn't worth jack,
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and for my soul, it ain't go power over that,
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since it's just as immortal as it itself?
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It waves me forth again. I'll follow it.
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Hor. Don't go! Please! We need you here in HOE!
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AIDS. It waves me still.
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Go on. I'll follow you.
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Mar. You shall not god, my lord.
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AIDS. Get your god damned dirty paws off me, ape.
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Hor. Be Rul'd. You shall not go.
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AIDS. I've got to do it. It is not coincidence that on this
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night that I was writing IM2K's obit. his vizage
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should appeare to me in such ghastly forms.
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Unhand me, gentlemen.
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By heaven, I'll make a ghost of him that lets me!
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I say away! -- Go on. I'll follow thee.
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[Exeunt Ghost and AIDS]
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Hor. He waxes desperate with imagintion.
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Mar. LEt's follow. 'Tis not fir thus to obey him.
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Hor. Have after. To what issue will this come?
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Mar. Something is rotten in the scene.
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Hor. Heaven will direct it.
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Mar. Nay, let's follow him. [EXEUNT]
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[Scene V. Warwick. AIDS's back yard. Another part of it.]
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[Enter Ghost and AIDS]
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AIDS. Where the hell are you taking me? This is only a suburban lot,
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you dig? Speak! I'm not going anywhere else!
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Ghost. Mark me.
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AIDS. I will.
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Ghost. My hour is almost come.
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When I to sulph'rous and tormenting flames
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must render myself up.
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AIDS. Shit! Your poor fucking guy!
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Ghost. Pity me not, but lend thy serious hearing
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to what I shall unfold.
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AIDS. I'm gonna listen no matter waht you say, chief.
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Ghost. So art thou to astonishment, when thou shalt hear.
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AIDS. What?
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Ghost. I am IM2K's spirt.
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AIDS. I was just writing a HOE file about you...
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Ghost. I know. I am doom'd for a certain term to walk the night until
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you wrote such a file. By writing it, you have released me,
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and I must tell you the truth.
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AIDS. Could anyone have written the file or just me?
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Ghost. Ah, you wisely introspect. You suspect it now, don't you?
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AIDS. I suspect nothing.
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Ghost. BUt you just saw ANGELHEART, starring one-time Cosby Kid Lisa
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Bonet and Robert DeNiro and Mickey Rourke. Surely the plot was
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not wasted on you?
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AIDS. I thought it was a trifle underdone. The end came upon me too fast
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for a real enjoyment.
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Ghost. I AM IM2K! WHEN I SUGGEST YOU EXAMINE SOEMTHING YOU SHALL DO IT!
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AIDS. I don't get it.
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Ghost. While you have been spending all your time trying to get soybean
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to drop her drawers so that you may plunge your invading fingers
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into her sticky cunt, I have been rotting in eternal damnation
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waiting for you to write this file!
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AIDS. Uh... sorry
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Ghost. I am here to tell you, before I go into the ether for good, that
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you, AIDS, are my reincarnation. The reason you feel such a deep
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resonance with HOE #74 is because you wrote it, before you
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embraced the painful, bright lights. The Thodol Bardo taught you
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well when you were me, and you became you.
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AIDS. Why must I know this now?
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Ghost. Because it is all preordained! We are like pieces of the
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chessboard. Not even good ones, like the queen or the rooks, but
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rather bishops or knights, whose movement is encumbered and
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limited.
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AIDS. You still haven't answered my question. You know, for a dead guy,
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you're awful prolix.
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Ghost. I can't answered your question. You just need to know. Soon it
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be discovered.
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AIDS. OK. Cool, can I go back to writing our obituary now?
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Ghost. Aye.
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AIDS. There's the rub!
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!!========================================================================!!
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Well, I'm back. Let me say, I was a good guy back then, I was a
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funny guy back then. My files were tight and smart and oh so disparaging
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towards teh idiots who were invading my precious homeland, once known as
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Elsinore, but now called the Internet.
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We were all lucky to know me.
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THE END.
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!!========================================================================!!
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!! (c) !LA HOE REVOLUCION PRESS! HOE #450, WRITTEN BY AIDS - 1/18/99 !!
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