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Jonas E'Zine, Volume 2, Issue 4 (C) 1996 by Jonas Productions,
all rights reserved. Copyrights to stories, articles, and illustrations
are the property of their creators, unless otherwise noted. The
contents of this publication may not be reproduced in whole or in
part without consent of the copyright owner. Jonas may be freely
distributed as long as this notice remains in place, and
no fee is charged for it's retrieval.
I'm in love with Josephine Baker,
there's a problem, she's 20 years dead.
It's so tragic that I, in the prime of my life,
cannot find someone living to love.
Fossil / "Josephine Baker"
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Jonas E'Zine Volume 2, Issue 4 June 26, 1996
Contents:
(1) - Edicius' Editorial
(2) - How I Got This Way [essay] / by The Masked Marauder
(3) - "Ivan" [story] / by Belial
(4) - Hillary Clinton: Why Bother? [essay] / by Edicius
(5) - Life's Greatest Gift [essay] / by Edicius
(6) - Talking About Our Generation [essay] / by Auren Hoffman
(7) - "Mornings Suck" [story] / by Eightball
(8) - My Future [essay] / [name withheld]
(9) - Reviews
(10) - News Snippets / compiled by Edicius
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
(1) - Edicius' Editorial
I do not like to state my opinion on the dealings of any other magazine,
just because I feel it is rude. However, Time Magazine isn't my direct
"competition", so why the hell not.
In the June 17, 1996 issue, they start a new annual issue, "America's 25
Most Influential People." Included in this elite list are Al Gore, Sandra
Day O'Connor, Jerry Seinfield, Louis Farrakhan and -- Courtney Love?
It seems that Time, when picking their 25 people, wanted people from a
variety of professions. They covered politics, business, arts, and other
aspects of entertainment. Maybe they were right when they picked Courtney
Love, the so-called "Punk Provocateur." For "Hole's success helped clear
the way for a wave of rageful women rockers, from Alanis Morissette to
Tracy Bonham to Garbage's Shirley Manson," according to Time.
That's influential? Because she strapped on a guitar, yells for 45
minutes about problems caused by her drug problems and late-husband?
Because of that, other women have followed and she becomes an icon of
capitalistic money makers?
If that's influential, then I'm Oscar the Grouch.
Wait, maybe it is influential. I mean, Alanis Morissette became more
angsty in her third album, "Jagged Little Pill", after being a dance
singer in her first two albums. Is this caused by Hole and Love? Maybe.
Maybe it could be the fact that her first two albums were pretty dismal in
the record sales? I'd be pretty angsty after that. If I were a girl, I'd
become a riot grrrl. Angsty young female with a guitar, watch out!
Anywho, back to my point. It is a sad day when a chain smoking, heroin
addict is influential. (Heroin? I guess there's an abundance of
'influential' people in Philadelphia then.) Love, 31, is currently riding
the spotlight which was passed onto her after her husband, Kurt Cobain,
died. Unfortunately, as long as there are people who still 'like' her
music, we will still have to hear her useless drivel.
May God have mercy on us now!
----------
Hey-ho, whaddya know? Slinky e'Zine went through a "falling out" period
this past month. Now, with no more Slinky e'Zine, the editors of the late
'zine have gone on to seperate projects. Cerkit has gone on to start a
new e'zine, by the name of "Plastic." The other editor, Belial, is
currently working with me on Jonas e'Zine. (We can all see who the wiser
of the two editors was. <g>)
Now, let's hear a few words from Belial himself.
-----
As Edicius said, I am Belial. From the time that I first began to get
involved with the computer, which was around September of '95, Jonas and I
have had a very close relationship. The first two articles that I ever
wrote were given to Jonas -- and they even got in! Since that time, I've
gone on to write two of my own 'zines, Klunk and Slinky, and I've written
for 'zines such as Doomed to Obscurity, Yolk, and Deviate. However, all
through this time, Jonas was never far from my heart. It was the first
'zine that I ever read and it remains to this day, my favorite. I have
always wanted to write for Jonas, and I'm more than happy to finally have
the opportunity to do so now on a regular basis.
-----
Thanks Belial!
But wait, there's more! Some kind words of regard from the other Slinky
editor, Cerkit!
-----
Join me, I mean I'm a good guy. Read on, don't discriminate. Oh well, for
those of you that stayed, good luck, try to keep up. now, I've seen things
start forever. hell I've seen alot of them end. and in that time what I've
found important are new beginings. Jonas seems its at a new begining with
Belial involved now.
Seemingly though it's going to take some work, of course. Unless I'm
mistaken it took Belial and I plenty of work to do our 'zine. Continuing,
I'd like to personally say I believe in Belial's abilities. Keeping with
the topic it's beginings like this that make things good. So, Belial and
Edi, Marc and Tom, good luck, from the bottom of my heart.
-----
That's it. In the end, as always, is the Jonas contact information.
Email us anything you want. Questions, comments, or useless spam. We
like 'dem sex ad spams!
Also, if you run a band, and are interested in having your recent cd or
demo or whatnot reviewed, email me. I'll be doing more full length
articles and interviews on and with bands in the future. I love indie
record labels! You guys are the best!
Enjoy yourselves.
-- Edicius (Tom Sullivan), with help from Belial (Marc Newman).
-------------------------------------------------------------------------
(2) - "How I Got This Way" - by The Masked Marauder
I'm not altogether sure what "this way" is, or who I am, yet, but I think
that over the past few years, I have gone through some weird stuff that
made me this way. It's kind of a long explanation so bear with me.
I began high school in Cincinnati, Ohio. The place I was brought up, and
the place I called home. From the first day, I loved it. There was more
responsibility, more freedom, and more fun; and I was experiencing it all.
I finally got 100 percent in with the popular crowd, I didn't do any-
thing bad, something I changed later, and I was making great grades.
before the first quarter was half-way through, I had lots of friends, and
a cheerleader girlfriend.
Then my parents decided to prove how nice they were and in two weeks moved
me to Birmingham, Alabama, where I started school at a small and
conservative catholic school. I hated it. I hated my uniforms, the
people, the teachers, the school, the town, everything. It couldn't get
any worse. I drudged my way through my freshman year and spent most of my
summer in isolation, my only entertainment was mowing my yard.
By some act of god, whom I had given up on at this point, my father got
another job, this one in Dallas, Texas. So we immediately shipped off,
because school started August eleventh. I started school at Shepton High
School, which fed Plano Senior High School. I was extremely nervous and
defensive about the whole thing, and while sitting in the counselor's
office awaiting my "buddy" that would guide me through the school, I kept
reciting the litany from _Dune_. "I must not fear. Fear is the
mindkiller. Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration. I
will permit it to pass over me and through me and when it has past I will
look back on it. Only I will remain."
The first few weeks were pretty much a blur, the people were extremely
nice, but I wasn't accustomed to it. As I began to get used to it, I
decided to play a sport, lacrosse. I had planned to play lacrosse in Ohio
but financial stuff got in the way. So I bought a stick four months
before the season started and began to get familiar with it. The first
day of practice changed my life.
I met Jim Hamilton.
Jim was a "party guy" who played politics and was one of the most popular
people in school. Popularity meant something back then, now it is just a
bunch of bullshit. Anyways, Jim Hamilton was nice to me. Casual
conversation was pretty much the extent of our interaction, until one
practice when he sprained his ankle and had no ride home. Attempting to
establish the groundwork for a friendship, I volunteered, and he accepted.
During the ride home we casually talked about just regular stuff, but I
guess it was a little more than that, because after that, we were more
than just teammates. At school we said hello to each other in the halls
and kept talking. Soon he invited me to go out with him and his friends
and it took off from there.
------
Now, looking back at three years of friendship, it has been a long and
strange trip. Jim and I went through everything together. Love, sex,
drugs, high school, and this year as co-captains of the lacrosse team. We
meant everything to each other and we were always together. I went to my
counselor the second day of school and had two classes changed, lunch and
weightlifting, so that we could be together.
We never had a fight, or even a disagreement. We had many discussions
about matters that extended beyond the things we had in common. We became
brothers, and we couldn't be separated by anything.
Except for destiny.
In two weeks, Jim ships off for the Merchant Marine Academy, a school
where he will learn to navigate and drive navy ships. He will spend seven
months out of the year at sea, and he will be there without me.
I can't help feeling sad that this era of our lives is over. Nothing
punctuated that more than after the graduation ceremony, when we tossed
our hats in the air and the graduating class of 1,259 began celebrating.
The video cameras even caught Jim and I's moment when we walked up to each
other at the front of Moody Coliseum at Southern Methodist University and
hugged.
That one moment was the culmination of it all. But in a way it was
special, because it wasn't our relationship that was over, it was our high
school years. That moment will live on in infamy in both my mind and on
the "Plano Senior High School class of '96 graduation" video, as the last
image on the screen with a big "goodbye" written across it.
But it isn't over. We said that "friends like this don't lose touch" a
thousand times over the course of our friendship, and it still holds true
today. We have made arrangements to stay in touch at all times, he has
his laptop that he will keep with him at sea and his internet account, and
of course I have my computer and account. Email will be our mode of
communication for the next few years and after that, who knows.
But for now, I wish him goodbye. He is the best friend I have in this
world and has had more to do with my growth and development than any other
human being on this planet, and I thank him for that. We had a good run.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
(3) - "Ivan" - by Belial
Ivan sat in his room, lost and out of touch with the rest of the kids his
age. He didn't care, though. He didn't need any friends, he didn't care
about going out, he didn't care about anything. He had the Internet and
that was all he needed.
What was there that the Internet couldn't provide for him?
He had found plenty of friends on the Internet. He had even found a girl
who had a lot in common with him.
Why should he be Ivan, the social reject, when he could be Destroyer and
have lots and lots of friends, girls, and, more importantly, any game that
he ever wanted. He was popular on the Internet. Girls wouldn't even go
near him at school, but on the Internet, he met new girls everyday. For
the first time in his life he was popular, for the first time in his life,
he was happy.
So why couldn't his parents understand this?
Constantly, they would mock him. They would yell at him, they would even,
at times, threaten him. "You don't get out enough!", "When was the last
time you've seen the light of day?", "Hermit!", "Why don't you come out of
your cave and be like the rest of the kids your age?", "Don't you have any
friends?", "Get a job and quit wasting your time on the damn computer!",
"You're going to regret sitting in front of the computer all day when you
get older!" It never ended, they always had something to say, but he
silently endured it, because he knew that he had a better life waiting for
him on the computer, where people liked him and where he was happy.
They could never understand what it was he was doing on the computer. All
they thought he was doing was playing games that were wasting his mind or
looking at pornography. No matter what it was, though, it wasn't
important. What was important, though, was that he get a job and go out
and meet some real friends. That's all that ever mattered to them. It
wasn't Ivan that mattered, it was Ivan getting a job that mattered to them
the most.
"You need to get a job so you can have a taste of what the real world is
like and so you can learn to be more responsible."
The real world? What was he living in?
Why couldn't they just leave him alone and let him live his own life as he
wanted to?
No, that would be too much, Ivan thought as he sat looking into the
computer screen, mulling over the same familiar thoughts. They couldn't
let him live his own life, they had to live it for him.
All of the sudden, Ivan heard a knocking at his door, instantly snapping
him back to reality.
"Yes?" he said, getting out of his chair and walking to the door.
"Why is this door locked?" his father asked from the other side, jerking
the handle.
"I don't know." Ivan answered, opening the door, letting his father walk
into the room.
"Jesus Christ," his father began, "it's like a Goddamn cave in here! Open
those blinds and let some light in here. Christ, what are you? Some kind
of hermit? What the Hell are you doing on that computer anyway?"
"I was just talking to one of my friends." Ivan answered, walking over to
the computer, turning off the screen.
"Friends?" his father laughed. "You don't have any friends. Look at you,
you never even leave this room."
"I met them over the computer." Ivan said.
Instantly, his father broke out in a fit of laughing. "Over the Internet?
You?" he laughed, "They must all be dorks like you!"
Saying nothing, Ivan just looked down at the floor. It was always the
same. The man would never get off his back. It always, always, had to be
something.
Seeing his son say nothing, Ivan's father sobered up. "Here's the deal,"
he said in all seriousness. "I'm giving you two weeks to get out of your
room and get a job. If you don't have a job in that time, then the
computer is gone."
"Dad!" Ivan screamed.
"If you don't have a job, then the computer is gone." Ivan's father said
one last time as he walked out of the room, shutting the door behind him.
In a fit of anger, Ivan grabbed an empty glass and threw it against the
door as if he were throwing it at his father himself. "Damn you," he said
over and over again.
It wasn't the fact that he had to get a job that bothered him, it was the
fact that having a job would take away from his time on the Internet. Of
course having money would be great, but what was he going to do with it?
Aside from a few CD's, there wasn't anything that he wanted or needed. It
would just be pointless, Ivan reasoned.
It took Ivan about a week to find a job. Of couse he didn't like it, but
it was either this and nothing, and nothing was unacceptable. He would
not lose his computer. Ivan got a job in a small clothes store at one of
the malls down the street. From the first day, Ivan hated the job. It
didn't pay well (not well enough for his tastes, anyway), and he certainly
didn't get along with the people he worked with. They didn't like him
because he was quiet and didn't talk to them or laugh at their stupid
jokes, and he didn't like them because they were nothing like him and they
made no attempt to even try to get along with him. Not only that, but
his job, from the first instant, got in the way of his use of the computer
and the Internet. He had to go into work right after school and he didn't
get out until late at night. He had no time to himself, and when he did
actually have some time, he spent it sleeping, getting ready to go to work
once again.
"I'm pround of you, boy." his father had said after he got the job.
As the weeks dragged by, Ivan drifted further and further away from the
computer, the Internet, and his friends on it.
Then something strange happened.
One day at work, his manager walked up to him and asked to speak with him
in the back room. Nodding, Ivan followed his boss to the back room and
took a seat where the manager pointed. He didn't think much of it, he
thought that he was even hopeful that he was going to get a raise. He was
doing his job good and he always did what he was told.
"Ivan, do you know why I've brought you back here?" his manager asked,
looking hard at Ivan who said he didn't know.
"Well, I was approached by some of the other employees who claim that you
have been taking merchandise," he began, "I know you're a quiet worker and
that you keep mostly to yourself, so there is nothing that would lead me
to beli-- "
Furious, Ivan cut in, "You're accusing me of theft!"
"I'm not accusing you of anything, I was just relating facts."
"I didn't steal anything!" Ivan protested.
"I would like to take your word for it, Ivan, but more than one person, on
various occasions, have said that they have seen you taking merchandise
from the store. Now, as you know, this isn't a big store, and even losing
the smallest amount of merchandise affects us."
"So what are you saying?" Ivan asked, confused.
"I'm going to let you go, Ivan. Although you have always done what you
were told and you have done a good job and have always been on-time while
you have been with us, I can't afford to lose-- "
"You're firing me!"
"I'm afraid so, Ivan. I'm sorry, but I just can't afford to take any
risks."
Depressed, Ivan took off his apron and handed it to the manager. Then he
left the store and started walking home. When he got home, he expected to
get yelled at by his father, but was suprised, and angry, when his father
only said, "Well, you better get up early and start looking for a new job
tommorrow."
After that, Ivan went upstairs and booted up his computer. The sweet
sound of the fan and the testing of the harddrive soothing his mind. It's
been a long time, and Destroyer was ready to reconquer the Internet.
Only this was a new, changed Internet. Ivan looked for all of his old
friends, but they were nowhere to be found. Nobody knew him, he was just
another forgotten identity.
Alone, Ivan shut off the computer.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
(4) - Hillary Clinton: Why Bother? - by Edicius
According to a new book about the 1996 presidential campaign, called "The
Choice," Hillary Rodham Clinton consulted with a spiritual advisor who led
her through conversations with Eleanor Roosevelt. The book, written by
Bob Woodward, an assistant managing editor at the Washington Post, says
that Mrs. Clinton had several consultations with author Jean Houston and
an associate, Mary Catherine Bateson, in which she was able to talk to
Eleanor Roosevelt.
These allegations are nothing new. Mrs. Clinton herself has admitted that
she had "meetings" with Eleanor Roosevelt while she was writing her book,
"It Takes a Village." In her syndicated column on June 4, she wrote, "I
occasionally have imaginary conversations with Mrs. Roosevelt to try to
figure out what she would do in my shoes. She usually responds by telling
me to buck up or at least to grow skin as thick as a rhinoceros."
Senator Al D'amato, a stern opponant of the Clintons stemming from the
Whitewater investigation, was asked by a group of reporters what he
thought of this allegation. His reply, more or less, was "so what?" The
reporters went on to ask him if he would use any of this against her in
the Whitewater trial. He answered with a no.
President Clinton and his wife have not commented on the new book.
My question, why do we care?
Hillary Clinton is a woman just like anyone else. Countless people talk
to a psychic, get their hand read, or go to tarot readings. Anything
related to the psychic field, as in those events already mentioned, can't
be relied on. So people look down on that. Since people look down on it,
they want Mrs. Clinton branded for her meetings.
So answer this. How many of you make a decision based on intuition or
superstition. These are two things that aren't related to the psychic
field, and they can't be relied on. But how come we don't write them off
as a joke, or frivilous? That's because we all base some amount of our
decisions on them.
Many may want to make Mrs. Clinton look like a horrible woman because of
this event, but they won't be able to. Luckily, this event will most
likely blow over soon enough. In my opinion, I really don't care what
they do. If they keep leading the country as good as they have been, they
can do whatever they want.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
(5) - Life's Greatest Gift - by Edicius
Madness is one of life's greatest gifts.
I mean it, really. Did you ever stop and think? If you walk down the
street of any American town, and look out through the morning mist
glancing at the serene traquility, not everyone shares the same view.
Somewhere in that town, there is someone who may look out across the same
serene tranquility and see the last morning of their life.
As we walk about in our daily lives, we will often take for granted the
peace that we feel. We take for granted the liberty and peace that we
have in our lives. We may know who we are, wherever we go, but do we know
who that person standing next to you is?
The person next to us may be our friend, or it could be a vile enemy. The
thing, however, is that we may never know. We'll pass thousands upon
thousands of people in our lives. A very large majority of that, we will
never know for more then a few seconds. If circumstances allow, we may
say a few words to that person. Under more rare circumstances, we may
actually get to know who that person is. At this point, we will learn to
love or hate that person. Under different circumstances, we wouldn't have
known that person.
Take a look into your memory. Out of the very few people that you knew
for a few mere moments, who are the ones that stick out in your mind? Is
it the one who was really courteus to you? Or is it the one who was mean?
More often than not, the persons that you will remember are normally the
ones who were somewhat less than nice to you. We, as a society, have
either become so adjusted to the assholes, grinches, and snobs, that we
place them on a "value" scale. Or, in actuality, we only meet so many
"mean" people, that we forget about the larger majority of nice people we
know.
So, to my original point. If you want to be known, you have to be mean.
Wait, let me rephrase that. If you want to be _remembered_, you have to
be mean. As I already stated, people don't remember the person who held
the door open for them as they were walking into the store, they remember
the one who shut it in their face. That's because the person who shut it
in their face made them pissed off. Still, they're remembered longer then
the person who held it open.
Girls don't want to date the nice boys. Most girls are stupid, and want
to be treated like shit. So, they'll find attractive those guys who are
shit. Sometimes the nice boys are too much for a girl to handle,
especially a girl who doesn't want a commitment. When the time comes for
the breakup, it's easier to break up with a boy who treated them like
shit. If that boy treated them like a goddess, then they will feel bad
about breaking off the relationship. Instead of having the guilt, they'll
take the easy way out, and go for the piece of shit.
They say we all will get what we deserve in the end. Maybe they're right,
maybe the good and the bad will get what they deserve; or they could be
wrong. Being the optimistic one that I am, I believe I will get what I
deserve in the end.. but the end is just too far away.
.. or is it?
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
(6) - Talking About Our Generation - by Auren Hoffman
For those of us who grew up on MTV, video games, and microwave dinners,
"Generation X" is far from a complimentary term. The phrase "Baby Boomer"
has a nice ring to it, but "Generation X" suggests that my generation,
those people born in the United States between 1963 and 1983, are lost or
undefined. According to many pundits and modern philosophers, although we
might be the generation that can surf the Internet or program a VCR, we
lack the depth or direction to add value to society. Their "theory"
suggests we are lazy, apathetic, and care little about the world and even
more notable, we are lost.
Needless to say, I have hope and pride in the generation that watches the
"Simpsons" but lives the life of "Friends." I heard another "theory" that
Gen X'ers are no different from boomers 20-30 years ago. Some people say
that all 22 year olds are "lost."
Generation X is different from the boomers of yesteryear -- but not
because we are slackers, screw-ups, or schemers. The boomers tended to
be, in the 1960's and early 70's, ideologues that crusaded for their
causes and made love, not war. Then the boomers sold out their ideology
for BMW's, stock portfolios, and cable TV. The liberal boomers soon
became Reagan Democrats or fiscal Republicans.
But Generation X is different. Though many of us have our government
causes, our campaigns, or strong ideology, the Gen X'er is (and will
always be) more libertarian than the Baby Boomer. We tend to distrust
government control of anything we don't want the government meddling in
our bedroom, our computer, or our income. Though socially liberal, like
the young people throughout history, young X'ers are far more fiscally
conservative than past generations.
Though many Boomers may have lost faith in the federal government, X'ers
never had faith. We know that we are paying social security to support
our parents, Medicaid to support our grandparents, and taxes to support
wasteful projects like ethanol energy and corporate tax loopholes. We
never expect to benefit from large government programs.
Many people think of the political spectrum as one-dimensional either
liberal or conservative. In a one-dimensional analysis, X'ers and Boomers
have roughly the same distribution of liberals and conservatives. However,
a real political spectrum is two dimensional (see graphic [sorry to the
ascii text readers, graphic is on the web page!]). On the graphic, each
person's political ideology is represented by a set of (x, y) coordinates.
The x-axis represents the traditional determination of liberal or
conservative while the y-axis represents a person's tendencies toward
libertarian or authoritarian policies. Here is where an X'er differs from
a Boomer. While Boomers tend to have an even distribution over the
y-axis, X'ers are skewed more toward the Libertarian end. Current
university students are more likely to agree with Milton Friedman than
with Franklin Roosevelt.
Since Generation X is not yet a voting powerhouse, neither major political
party has worked to address our concerns. Both Republicans and Democrats,
with the exception of the Jack Kemp wing of the GOP, tend to support more
authoritarian government policies. Issues like immigration control and
the minimum wage have little appeal to knowledgeable Gen X'ers even though
they are the cornerstone of any Boomer campaign. But as Generation X
makes up a larger part of the electorate, Republican and Democrat
lawmakers will have to move "to the top" and address concerns like social
security, affirmative action, and remake other authoritarian government
programs.
The generation of high-top Velcro sneakers, button-fly jeans, and
Y-necklaces is also the generation of smaller government, accountable
legislators, and rapid response. Though the left and the right of the
political spectrum is clearly defined, both parties must begin to push to
the top to survive.
----------
About the Author
Auren Hoffman is an editor for the Internet Herald and a senior majoring
in Industrial Engineering and Operations Research at UC Berkeley.
Auren is also a partner in Kyber Systems and built Guestimate, the highly
touted guestbook package.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
(7) - "Mornings Suck" - by Eightball
He reluctantly opened his eyes to a loud, irritating sound. His fist
slammed down on plastic, and the unwanted noise abated. He looked at the
object of his vexation and groaned, "oh shit, it's 8am. I'm late for
school." He dressed quickly, and flew down the stairs and out the door in
record time.
Unlocking and opening the door to his car in one fluent motion, he jumped
in the driver's seat. After starting the car, he spent a few moments
selecting a tape. with the entrance of _Pigs on the Wing_, he sped up to
the traffic light at the top of the hill. Inevitably, it was red. He
hated this light. It always took so long to change when he was pressed
for time. He lit up a cigarette to keep occupied. He really hated
mornings.
After a seeming eternity, the light turned green. He made a left, and
picked up speed on the main road. Gazing in the rearview mirror, he saw
flashing blue and red lights. He slammed on the breaks and pulled over.
The police car followed suit. "Damn. I'm late for school and now I'm
gonna get a fucking ticket!" The officer who stepped out of his squad car
was the last cop he wanted to see. It was the same one who stopped him a
month ago.
"Alright, out of the car!" the policeman bellowed. He wasn't exactly in a
position to argue, so he did as he was asked. The officer recognized him,
and after he was given a sound talking-to, the cop smacked him around a
little to "teach him a lesson."
Back in the car, a $120 ticket in hand, he was feeling sore. Painfully
sore. "Okay," he thought to himself, "its only 8 more miles to school. I
want to get there intact." However, no sooner than he had completed that
very thought, he got sideswiped by a Septa bus. "At least I still have
the right side," he said to himself, while attempting to concentrate on
driving without a door.
He decided to stop at a convenience store, since his cigarettes had been
carried off by the wind. He bought some Cheetos and a Snapple, but was
carded for the cigarettes. He shot the clerk a nasty glance and left
without further comment.
Arriving at school at approximately 8:45am, he suffered a nasty shock --
the doors were locked! "Why the hell did they lock the doors?" he asked
no one in particular. Then he remembered. School was out for the summer.
"Well, now I know I had a good time last night," he mused as he hopped
back into his car and sped away. He laughed uproariously and lit up a
huge joint.
"Mornings suck."
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(8) My Future - [name withheld]
I was asked by the author of this essay to publish it anonymously.
----------
It happened a little more than a year ago. My parents had gone away for a
three day weekend, leaving me in care of my brother. The first night was
a Thursday night, and I ended up passing out at 9:30 before I had had too
much to drink -- I just felt really tired. The next night "the fun began"
for me. I could have friends over, and we could basically get as much
beer as we wanted, and go out as late as we wanted, a rarity for
ninth-graders.
My brother got my friends and I a case of Bud, I believe. We started
drinking at about 7pm, and I think we brought the rest of the case over to
another friend's house, who was having a party. I ended up walking home
at about 10pm with another friend of mine, who went home a little while
after.
About that time there were about 20 of my brother's friends over, and I
went out on my front porch with my brother to have a beer. We were both
moderately drunk -- for me, to the point where I've completely opened up
and lost all my insecurities, and my brother to the point where he'll talk
relatively freely, yet still able to "keep his guard" and watch what he's
saying.
We began to talk about school, talk about how he was when he was in high
school. We talked about alcohol, about marijuana, etc.. I told him that
I pretty much hated my high school, and 99% of the kids in my grade,
because they were so obsessed with drinking, and how cool it was, and how
cool they were in general (not to mention how un-cool everybody besides
themselves are, and wondering if those un-cool people know how un-cool
they are). These kids were my friends, and I was tired of it. Going out
on Friday and Saturday nights, getting fucked up, talking to lame girls.
I was growing tired of it, and I hadn't even been doing it very long.
He began to tell me his High-School experience was very similar. He had a
solid group of friends, but they were by no means the "coolest" kids. I
was a little higher on the popularity scale then he had ever been, but
that was irrelevant. We talked on, for about a half hour. He told me to
fuck high-school, wait for college, when you will be redeemed. If you
work hard enough to get into a decent college in high school, you will
WIN, which is what his main message is. These kids in high school, a lot
of them are smart, but even if they're not, they're going out and getting
fucked up, getting high in school, etc.. And what will they have to show
for themselves in five years? The people that fuck the social scene in
high-school end up winning in the long run. You're not missing very much
(although it seems important at the time), and you've got the rest of your
life to look forward to. He was having a great time in college, academic
wise (where he was maintaining about an A- average, much better than he
did in High School), and he was smoking a lot of pot, drinking a lot of
beer, getting a lot of pussy, and doing it with COOL people. This sounded
too good to be true.
Hell, he was even getting good grades.
Next, to make matters even more "complicated," his friend that goes to
Princeton came outside and talked to me also. He had the same message that
my brother had, but his was just as effective. He had worked hard in high
school and was going to Princeton; and now he was "rocking." The decision
seemed simple. Fuck the pathetic high school social scene, and set my
sights on the future. My life changed forever.
My grades in the fourth marking period of ninth-grade went up
dramatically, and since then I have been pulling about a 3.50 GPA; not as
good as I could do, but certainly much better than my 2.80 GPA of last
year (would've been worse if I hadn't done well fourth marking period).
And besides the occasional party I'll go to, or friend's house I'll go to
drink, I have basically "fucked" the high school social scene.
It is for the best. I don't know if every town is like mine, but mine is
dominated by rich, daddy's girls, the *DEFINITION* of the term JAP (Jewish
American Princess). They are all worried about who's talking shit about
who, who just hooked up with who, and who they could hook up with to gain
the most points on the popularity scale. The guys are cooler; but they're
also very cliquish and "you're not cool enough to come and hang out with
us" kind of people. Fuck them.
If you're reading this, I don't know what kind of a message you will take
from it. All I know is, if this event had not happened, I don't know
where I'd be right now. I *DO* know I would not be as happy as I will be
a few years down the line. That's all.
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(9) - Reviews
CD/LP
Neglected Sheep/Geno Died/Livestock Music
Imagine the Crash Test Dummies' lead singer in a blues-rock band. Well,
that's what you have with Neglected Sheep. Hailing from Charlotte, North
Carolina, this band gives us a very impressive debut CD on Livestock
Music. Self-produced, this 10 track, 47 minute CD never once losses it's
energy.
Combining a mixture of Alternative Rock and Pop with a blues edge, this
band is destined for national spotlight. They don't bring a new musical
genre with them, but they bring the intensity and purposeful lyrics that
many up and coming bands lack.
Their latest single, "Annie Brewster", is the crowning point on this
album. With a steady bluesy beat, and great lead vocals, this song is
definitely one of the best on this CD. Adding an organ to the guitar,
bass, and drums, gives it a very interesting sound.
"Why", a seven-plus minute trip through a range of emotions, is another
high spot from this album. Even though it is the longest song, it keeps
the listener moving. Starting out with a slow, melodic rythym, then
moving into a more upbeat tempo with, in my opinion, early-Cracker guitar
riffs here and there.
Overall, this CD is a very impressive debut. With an upcoming tour, they
are destined for national recognition.
Grade: A+
Contact: Abott Promotions at (804)272-7522.
----------
e'Zine
Rice - Issue 2
The RICE Militia is a top secret organization, so there is no email
address even though it is an e'zine.
Send a SASE for more information to:
6666 Pickwick Dr.
Bensalem, PA 19020
Rice & the Rice Militia, the newest creation from Black Francis and Dead
Cheese, ex-Doomed to Obscurity members. Releasing their first issue in
early June, and their second issue on June 26, they are really releasing
fast. Both issues are about the same in quality.
This issue, as per the theme of the 'zine, was humor filled. Black
Francis had a good detective story called, "Frank Esposito, World's Worst
Detective, Does it Again!" Dead Cheese had a great poem called "Little
Johnny," and Styx had a very interesting graphic of his sister. It's too
much for words, really.
Although this 'zine may have small issues, they are of high quality.
Let's hope Black Francis & Dead Cheese stick with this one.
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(10) - News Snippets
I'm not sure exactly what newspaper this appeared in, nor when. I'd
presume it is from a Floridian paper. I received this from someone on
IRC.
_Teen Charged With Hacking FAU Computer_
By CHUCK McGINNES
BOCA RATON- A recently graduated high school senior has been charged with
breaking into the computer system at Florida Atlantic State University's
College of Science and Engineering, destroying a professor's electronic
mail and transferring files to the internet.
Thomas Robert Stromberg, 18, who just graduted from Olympic Heights High
School, was arrested Thursday at his home west of Boca Raton. He was
charged with two felonies- offenses against intellectual property and
offenses against computer users.
Investigators from the Florida Department of Law Enforcement and FAU
seized a computer and related equipment and material from Stromberg's home
at 9596 Lancaster Place.
FDLE agents also seized computers from other homes in the Boca Raton area.
Additional arrests are expected, FAU Detective Carl "Chuck" Aurin said.
The investigation began in February after Elise Angiollilo, FAU's director
of tele-communications, discovered someone had gained access to the
computers in the science and engineering department.
The hackers apparently used the account of a former FAU student to get
into the unversity's computer system. Once they had access, they twice
tried to crash the computer system and wiped out the electronic mail
system of Mahesh Neelakanta, the department's computer system coordinator.
Information and copyrighted software from the computer files were
transferred to the Internet, where the data could be copied by anyone
using the Internet. FAU officials would not say what was in the files.
"The university has very significant information in the computer. The
equipment is used by the state for a specific purpose: education and
research," said Tom Horton, a computer science and engineering professor.
Neelakanta found and FAU computer account that was being used to request
information from an outside computer system. The outside system asked for
personal information and the individual using the account entered
Stromberg's name, according to an arrest report.
Stromberg told the police he used a program to crack password files that
allowed him into several user accounts where he stored pirated software.
This is not the first time hackers have broken into the computer system of
a government agency in Palm Beach County,
In 1992, a 15-year-old Jupiter boy allegedely tinkered his way into a
South Florida Water Management District computer system. Sheryl Woodm a
district attorney, said she could not recall if criminal charges were
filed against the boy, but she remembered seeing a letter of apology from
the youth.
Investigators said most hackers break into computer systems for the
bragging rights. They usually write bulletin boards and share the
information they obtain with other hackers.
Stromberg, who was a member of his school's computer club, went by the
name Dr. Jekyll. He is being held at the county jail on $1,000 bail.
----------
From US News & World Report, 6/24/96:
Eye on the '90s, page 20
_Cyber Island_
This fall, Doug Patterson plans to launch the Rastafarian Internet Boot
Camp, a series of weeklong retreats in secluded Port Antonio, Jamaica.
"People don't want to sit on the beach and get drunk for a week," says
Patterson, a Net trainer for 10 years. "They want to be productive on
their vacations." For $3,500 per week, you can download some sun as you
bask in classes on Web programming or Java scripting. One pitfall:
getting sand out of the keyboards.
----------
From the Asbury Park Press, 6/24/96
Beer-craving cat burglar gets stuck in vent
The Associated Press
SAN ANTONIO -- Felix Rivera's late-night craving for a cold brew bought
him a ticket to the cooler.
Rivera, 33, greased his body with used cooking oil, then tried to slide
through a 2-foot-wide rooftop air vent into Pik Nik, a convenience store
where he's a regular customer, police said.
He tripped the burglar alarm early Friday when his upper body became
wedged in the vent with his legs dangling inside.
It took eight firefighters an hour to free Rivera.
"He walked up to me and said, 'Sorry, man. All I wanted was a beer.',"
store manager Joe Castellano said. "Because of the alarm, he was pretty
deaf after he left."
Rivera was charged with burglary and held on $10,000 bond.
Damage to the store was estimated at $1,000.
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Jonas would like to thank:
Abott Productions, Livestock Records, Jon Vena and WHTG-FM, Auren Hoffman,
Eightball, The Masked Marauder, Seta, Kojak, Mindcrime, Cerkit, Mogel,
Black Francis, Crank, Oodles, Eerie, and a bunch of other people ..
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Jonas e'Zine -- issue 19
Jonas e'Zine is produced somewhat monthly under Jonas Productions.
Tom Sullivan, Editor-in-Chief and Publisher
Marc Newman, Associate Editor
our website: http://www.cybercomm.net/~edi/jonas.html
our ftpsite: ftp://ftp.etext.org/pub/Zines/Jonas/
our email addresses: edi@cybercomm.net (Tom Sullivan/Edicius) &
b3lial@cybercomm.net (Marc Newman/Belial)
we'll have a po box soon, we swear!
"Jonas.. it is more then a 'zine, it is a lifestyle."
--------------------------------------------------------------------------
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